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Father's Day

By: Danny Dunn



This is pure fiction, I don't believe that real people are toys to be used just for pleasure yet there is a dark side in the human mind that normal people repress and keep under control.

The following is a tale based on real people in an unreal twisted fantasy. I wrote this story about my wife and father. My wife told me that she had dreams of having sex with her father and brother and I always enjoyed hearing those stories for a few reasons. It made me feel more normal because I always thought I was weird because when I was a teenager living at home, I had frequent sex dreams of my mother and sister.

My most recent hot dream was that my wife was the aggressor in having sex with her brother on our bed. I never experienced real incest, nor would I want to in real life. This fantasy is based on my wife's dreams, my imagination and the true fact that my father has asked if I had naked photos of my wife to share with him. If my wife really wanted to have this type of experience I would be happy to let her.

* * * The fictional story of my wife with her father starts here * * *

My father and I are a lot alike we both were sending each other the best jpg files we could find of attractive disrobed ladies we could find on the Internet. Now and then there were even some fetish and bondage pictures exchanged but nothing too extreme. After many exchanges he started jokingly asking if I had any pictures of his daughter to e-mail to him. I told him I didn't but I would see what I could do.

My wife did not like having her photo taken in the nude but she does enjoy light bondage and being blindfolded. So I figured I could snap a few shots now and then when she could not see what I was doing. I used a digital camera and would have the music up a bit loud so she would never hear the clicks of the camera. She became wild with lust while tied up with loud music because it would keep her from both seeing and hearing and this excited her rape fantasy. As long as I knew her (and probably long before I met her) she has had this strong rape fantasy, even gang rape. She knew that she did not really want to be raped but just the safe fantasy or Idea just made her very horny.

Well as time went on I sent lots of great shots of my wife bound and blindfolded in every possible way to her father along with my best finds of other gals on the internet. He loved them and even began asking for special requests. One day he came out and asked if it were all right with me if one day while she was bound and gagged that he could come over and look at her in person without her even knowing he was there. This Idea turned me on big time, not that I want to share my wife with any other man but her father seemed like no threat and the near incest angle made it sound like a very great idea. We set a night he was to park on a side street and find our front door unlocked at 9 PM. By 8:40 I had my wife in the bedroom with the music loud, beginning to tie her face up spread eagle on our four corner posted bed. I had her head down at the bottom of the bed with her head tipped halfway off the bed where it would be easy to slip my cock into her mouth. I tied a wide secure blind fold over her eyes and still had ten minutes until 9:00 so I sucked on each nipple before I started to eat out her pussy. This always put her over the edge where she would go mad with wanting to be fucked hard and long, just the frame of mind I wanted her in.

At 9:00 I went down and found her dad waiting on the couch. We tip toed into the room and it worked she had no Idea that when I came back into the room I was not alone. I began right off kissing her nipples again and she began begging me to fuck her. I told her she had to wait, I stepped back and motioned to my father that he could touch her. I could tell he wanted to touch her and he knew she would think it was me so he rubbed her tits a while and became bold enough to play with her pussy. This made me so horny to see her hips rise up with desire humping up at her fathers fingers as he probed them back into her hot wet snatch. He looked at her with hungry eyes and then looked me with a grin. I motioned to him it was my turn again.

He stepped back and I stepped up to the foot of the bed where her head was tipping backwards partway off of the mattress. I rubbed the head of my cock on her lips and she obediently took it in her mouth and began sucking me off with her lips sliding up and down my shaft. After a short time I was ready to share and I stepped back, my cock left her mouth with a loud slurping sound. Old Dad knew he going to be asked to try his daughter's oral skills and he already had his pants and shorts off when I turned around to tell him to try her out. I could tell by the look on my wife's face that she suspected something was out of the ordinary but she eagerly gulped down her daddy's prick and he looked like he was going to pass out from pleasure overload and her grabbed the bed posts on each side to steady himself.

I think it was because she had a slight suspicion that the cock in her mouth was not that of her familiar husband's that she really went wild sucking it like a starving woman. Her head lifted and dropped moving her whole back and shoulders as she enthusiastically swallowed her father's meat over and over. He knew he would not last long like this and did not want to miss anything else he might get so he backed away leaving his daughter straining and gasping to take a cock in her mouth. She complained loud how badly she wanted to suck a cock, and then whined that what she really needed was to be fucked real hard and deep.

I was not going to keep her waiting so I climbed up on her and slid my cock into her soaking wet pussy. It was so wet that there was very little resistance; her cunt really just sucked me inside. Her juices were puddling on the sheets I never seen her so wet, I am sure it was due to the feel of an unfamiliar prick in her mouth a few moments ago. The walls of her cunt swelled around my cock, her muscles clamped down on me as I could feel her well trained, sex loving, cunt try to milk my load from my manhood. I had to pull out now or it would be game over for my fun. I pulled out and she cried out in frustration "god-dam it don't stop now!"

As I removed myself from the bed I waved to her father to take my place, Him being a chubbier, heavier man, was an obvious change just in the squeal of the mattress and the amount the bed sank when he climbed on. She had a startled look on her blindfolded face and she gasped, "you really do have someone else here!" Her dad froze for a moment and slowly lowered his heftier self down onto her; she could feel he clearly was a very deferent man who was still wearing his tee shirt over his bear like chest. As his penis pushed it's way into her now tightening pussy she squealed with delight "who ever you are just fuck me you bastard! Make me cum! I need to be fucked hard right now or so help me I will die!"

Hearing his daughter demand that he fuck her hard was more than he needed to hear, it flipped a switch on him and he began pounding her cunt so hard that they were both sliding down the bed with each driving thrust of his cock. The ropes on his daughter's arms and legs grew tighter the farther they moved. Her whole head on shoulders were well off the bed and her back was inching over as well.

The ropes on her wrists and ankles were really digging in and the pain only made her hornier, the tight ropes were holding both her and her father from sliding over the edge of the bed. She was both crying out in pleasure and begging to be fucked harder and deeper, even though that would be impossible because he was slamming his whole body down with great might causing them both to bounce on each crashing trust. She already knew that another man was screwing her so I moved in and put my cock to her lips. This worked out to be a great thing for me because she was insanely horny and sucked my cock harder than I imagined humanly possible.

In no time I was cumming into her mouth, it seemed to flow on forever, I just came and came and came some more. Soon my poor limp cock was too sore to keep in her mouth and I retreated to the corner of the room where I found my trusty digital camera. I took several pictures of my wife being fucked by her father. My wife was obviously enjoying the flogging she was getting, her arms strained on the ropes at her wrists as she was being ridden nearly off the bed. Her loud moans of pleasure became higher pitched and more rapid as she thrust back up at him, then finally screamed out as she climaxed.

Her dad dismounted her snatch and placed the head of his dick to his daughter's lips. She happily opened up and sucked him inside as his whole body spasmed in wave after wave of orgasm pumped from his balls out his cock and right down the throat of my wife, his daughter. He pet her hair and rubbed the side of her cheek with the back of his hand, showing tender thankfulness of the fulfillment she gave him. As his now flaccid penis slid from her mouth she smiled up and him and said "thank you who ever you are" and as she spoke a string of cum still linger from the corner of her lips to the head of his cock. I am so glad I had the digital camera ready; I managed to get some great shots of the incestuous fucking and blowjob.

Since that day I have shared the photos with Dad, and we plan to do this again real soon. My wife has been more lustful then ever she wants sex nearly every moment of the day anymore. She does ask about who it was and I am keeping it a secret for now. She is a bit disappointed during bondage sessions because she hopes each time there will be one or more surprise visitors. I may have to make her happy and arrange several guys to screw her one day soon.

I am trying to figure out when I should let her know it was her own father she made love to that special day. Should I just show the photos? I would love to do the same thing and take off her blindfold as she is about to climax with her father's cock sunk deep inside of her pussy. When she is horny she will do anything or anybody to enjoy an orgasm.

Father's Day



Let me start with a word of warning: this story probably is not what you think it is. It's sappy, there's no sex, and if you read the title and are expecting some bodice-ripping tale of incestuous lust between a woman and her father, well, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I wrote this piece on Father's Day because there were some things on my heart that I just wanted to get down in writing strictly for my own sake. When I shared it with my husband, Brian, he was moved emotionally to a degree that he insisted I post it on here. After changing names and a minor detail or two in the interest of anonymity, this is the result. I hope you enjoy it.

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June 16, 2013. Father's Day. On this day as phone lines light up across the nation and ugly neckties that would otherwise never be bought find new homes, I sit here on my living room sofa in a deep melancholy, for this is the first Father's Day in my thirty-four years of life that I am not with my father. Neither can I pick up the phone to call him and hear the rich and loving dulcet tones of his voice. This year, you see, is the first Father's Day since my father passed away.

I wish the Internet were a safe enough place that I could tell you his name, but it would be meaningless to you. It wasn't a famous name. My father was never a movie or television star, never saved anyone's life by pulling them from certain death, and as far as I know, the only time his name ever appeared in the newspaper was when his obituary was published. But to me and my brother, it will always be a special name, for what he did was to make two children, teach them by countless examples how to live and how to love, and lovingly mold them into the adults we are today. And that, dear reader, carries a far higher greatness than anything else ever could in the hearts of those who loved him and were loved by him.

Not everyone has good memories of their father. Some remember, if at all, a loveless, mean, perhaps even violent man. Others remember an uncaring male figure who could have cared less about their successes or failures. Others have no memories at all, having never known the man, his having disappeared long before they were born or before they were old enough to remember him. If any of those descriptions apply to you, I am truly sorry, and I know something of your pain, for it somewhat describes Brian's relationship to his own father. Born to a somewhat well-to-do family, Brian's parents strenuously objected to – "were scandalized by", is how Brian describes it – his decision to become a firefighter. Worse, they did the unthinkable: six years into his firefighting career, when he suffered the gruesome injuries that ended that career, and his buddies called his parents to come "before it's too late", they came alright. They came to stand over the bed of their grievously wounded only son, cluck their tongues, and tell him, in effect, "we told you so."

As I sit here with my computer in my lap and look out the patio doors at Brian and our best friend, Matt, playing like children in the backyard, I think of Father's Day weekend last year. Given Brian's strained relationship with his own father, in many ways Brian and Dad "adopted" one another many years before, so naturally Brian joined me as we flew the thousand or so miles to the town where I was born and raised. It was when we walked into the little apartment that Mom and Dad shared in their golden years that we got our hearts broken: Dad, who had valiantly and aggressively fought cancer for several years had, in the last few months, taken a dramatic turn for the worse. Always a vigorous and healthy-looking man of over six feet tall, Dad now looked like he weighed less than a hundred pounds, was unable to walk or even stand, and worst of all, was now blind.

"Dad," I wept as I carefully pressed his frail hand between mine, "why didn't you or Mom tell us?"

"Tell you what?" he laughed in the rich and loving voice that the cancer would soon silence. "It's okay, punkin'," he said confidently. "It'll all be okay." It was, word for word, what he used to tell me when I was a child, especially during the loud thunderstorms that once terrified me so. Oddly, in spite of all of my RN experience and training that told me that things were most certainly not going to be all right or "okay", I felt deeply comforted by his words.

We spent the entire weekend reminiscing and looking through photo albums. Blind as he now was, Dad remarkably refused to let it be a hindrance to him, demonstrating an almost uncanny recall of nearly each and every photo with only a few words of description. Brian learned things that, even after nearly ten years of marriage, were heretofore secrets about me, usually because they were embarrassing. I learned things that weekend as well, as Dad shared formerly untold stories about his experiences in the Korean War, and Dad insisted that Brian regale him with stories of his firefighter days. Brian's own father may not have been proud of his brave and heroic son, but Dad certainly was. His pride showed on his drawn and withered face as Brian enthralled him with tales of unspeakable courage, of both him and his buddies, and most remarkably of all, in every case Brian eschewed and rejected any label of "hero" as he told tales with such poetic descriptiveness that I could nearly feel the heat and smell the smoke.

All too soon it was Sunday afternoon. I practically begged Mom and Dad to let me stay for a few weeks to help her care for Dad, but they wouldn't hear of it. "Your patients need you, punkin'," Dad finally said in the calm but firm voice that, growing up, always meant it was the end of discussion. "Your patients need you and Brian needs you. I'll be alright."

As we said our goodbyes and prepared to leave for the airport, there was a certain finality in the air as we all seemed to sense that this was the last goodbye we were ever going to have. I said goodbye to Dad, told him I loved him, and held his hand as I told him I'd see him at Thanksgiving, knowing in my heart that I wouldn't. I closed my eyes and invited him to "read" my face with his hands one last time, hoping that I could hold back the tears a minute or two longer. I didn't want Dad to "see" me cry, knowing that all it would do is cause him to worry about me.

After he touched all over my face and was satisfied with the mental picture he had of me, he laid his hands in his lap once again. I hugged him gently but tenderly. When he hugged me back was when I finally lost it, my tears flowing freely. It was the way he hugged me, almost in desperation, afraid to let go, like a drowning swimmer clinging to a would-be rescuer. We kissed each other on the cheek, just as we'd done a thousand times before. But this time was different, as our lips lingered on each other's faces, both of us knowing it was the last time. Finally, reluctantly, we parted, and I don't know which one of us moved slower to complete that one last act of fatherly affection.

Then it was time for Brian to say goodbye. I stepped out of earshot, knowing that there may well be things the two men had to say to one another that were for their ears alone. Brian would tell me later anything he felt I needed to hear, and if there was something he felt the need to keep confidential, I was okay with that, too.

Brian sat down beside Dad and took his hand. "I'm damn proud of you, boy," Dad said, squeezing Brian's hand with a surprising strength for a man of nearly 83. "You're a good man. Take care of my daughter. You're the only man who ever loved her as much as I do. You and your friend, Matt. Make sure you tell him that."

"I will," Brian promised, unwilling to say more, not trusting himself to speak. Besides, he said, it was hard to get even those two words past the lump in his throat.

I don't know if Dad said anything more. Somehow I believe he did. Dad loved Brian like a second son, spoke often of Brian's scars and how he got them like they were Olympic gold medals, and bragged on the sort of man Brian was almost as much as he bragged about his own two kids. I don't believe Dad let him go with just a few sentences. But Dad was a private man, and a proud one, who didn't display his emotions on his sleeve for the world to see. Whatever was expressed between them, I believe Brian protected Dad's privacy by not sharing. I accept that fully, because I know that's how Dad would want it to be.

After they spoke to each other, Dad reached for Brian and they hugged. Then Dad did something he had never done in countless visits: he kissed Brian on the cheek, just the way he had kissed me minutes earlier. With his mouth pressed in close to Brian's ear, he said, "I love you, son." Brian said he loved him, too, and then, sadly, it was time to leave.

Brian rose and walked over to where I was standing, and nodded silently. With our other goodbyes already said and nothing left to say, we walked out without saying another word to anyone.

During the thirty minute drive to the airport, through check-in, security, the flight home, and the drive to our house, I don't imagine we said more than ten words to each other. The proverbial "fly on the wall" might have assumed we were angry with each other and giving each other the silent treatment. But I knew that wasn't the case. I knew it was because Brian didn't trust himself to speak, lest the emotional goodbye cause him to break down. I understood perfectly, because I felt the exact same way. Sometimes the best words you can say are no words at all, but just simply hold one another's hand.

Dad "graduated" almost four months later, on October 16, at 3:13 in the afternoon. I don't know if there's an afterlife or not; having seen a lot of deaths as an RN and held the hand of probably dozens of men and women as they died, I've seen things that can make a strong case either way. But if there is one, I believe it's higher and better than this one, which is why I say Dad graduated: he moved up.

This may sound silly, and maybe it is, but I believe on that afternoon, Dad's spirit came by to say a final goodbye to me on its way to wherever it is spirits go when they die. I was at work that day, in a patient's room, when I suddenly and briefly caught a sharp whiff of English Leather cologne, like someone wearing it had just walked past. It's not all that common nowadays; I'm not even sure they make English Leather anymore. It was only a second or two, and apparently it was for me alone, but in that brief moment I know what I smelled. It was unusual enough that I noted the time. You guessed it: 3:13.

I smiled and asked the patient if he wore English Leather. He said that he didn't, and after a couple of sniffs said that he didn't smell anything.

"Never mind. Must have been my imagination."

As a little girl, I was terrified of thunderstorms. Even a distant one, as soon as I heard the first peal of thunder, my stress level went through the roof and I literally shook in terror. But Dad always knew exactly what to do as soon as a thunderstorm made its approach known. He would immediately drop whatever it was he was doing and come to the living room, taking a seat in an old, broken down recliner that my brother and I knew simply as "Dad's chair." Then I'd come over and either climb up onto his lap or he'd pick me up and pull me into the chair. If it was the middle of the night, if the thunder was loud enough to wake me, I knew Dad was on his way to carry me to bed with him and Mom. A few times, Mom was less dressed than at other times, and in my youthful ignorance and innocence, I had no idea what my fears had interrupted.

Once I was in the chair with Dad, he'd tell me jokes or read me a story to make me laugh, or we'd watch TV together, or maybe we'd just sit there. Whatever it was we did, all I knew was I wasn't scared anymore, no matter how bad the storm got. I knew Dad wasn't going anywhere until long after the last thunderclap rolled, not until I felt safe enough to leave his cocoon of protection. The smell of his cologne was like a blanket I was wrapped up in, totally safe, no matter what.

I came home to a ringing telephone at nearly 8:00 that Wednesday evening. It was Mom, calling with the sad news of my father's passing. I didn't cry, at least not right away. I did later, of course, but not right then. I was sad for my Mom, my brother, and me, but I was happy for Dad: after months trapped in a body that no longer worked properly, with pain a constant companion, Dad's fiercely independent spirit now dependent on others for even the smallest needs, I had a sense that Dad had been set free and that I should feel happy for him, not sad. I was glad to have been given such certainty back in June that it was the last visit we'd have together that it allowed Brian and me to say our goodbyes, and I was happy that Dad was free. This wasn't a time for tears. Not yet. That was when I suddenly remembered the bizarre event of earlier in the day.

"Mom, forgive me for asking this, but what time did Dad die?"

Her tone indicated she thought it was a strange question. "3:13 this afternoon. Why?"

"Oh, no reason." I was glad we were talking on a regular, old fashioned telephone instead of a video chat through Skype or something: I doubt Mom would have understood the smile on my face just then. I promised Mom that Brian and I would be on the first flight I could get the next morning, and then we said our goodbyes and hung up.

I stood there in my living room, with my hand still on the phone, still dressed in my hospital scrubs, and closed my eyes. Brian wasn't home, which was just as well, because that was when the tears started. I still felt happy for Dad, but I wasn't crying for him. I was crying for Mom, my brother, and yes, myself: I felt sorry for myself and for all of us that we were now forced to trudge on ahead without the benefit of a sweet, kind, extraordinarily capable leader. We would miss his humor, his wisdom, his intelligence, his strength of spirit and character, and so much more. Yes, we would carry on, all of us, but we had some incredibly big shoes that none of us would ever be able to completely fill.

I remembered what happened in the patient room earlier that day. The timing, the beloved smell of a cologne he hadn't worn in years and yet one I would always associate with Dad, it was all too much to digest, let alone understand. "It's okay, punkin'," I remembered, with perfect clarity. I felt and still feel today that was the message Dad came to leave me with that afternoon, on his way to whatever lies on the other side: "It's okay, punkin'. It'll all be okay."

With my eyes closed, tears flowing down my cheeks, and still an incongruent smile on my face, I said aloud, "Thanks, Dad, for stopping by the hospital today and saying goodbye. I love you." I don't know if he heard me. Probably not, but I expressed one last time my love for him. All I know is, I felt a lot better.

I miss you, Dad. I miss you every day, but today most of all. I remember you every day, but right now I'd give anything to be able to pick up the phone and talk to you once more. But just maybe, in some way I don't and can't understand, you're physically closer to me now than we've been in a long time. As I write you this letter and think of you, I can't help but feel you're sitting here beside me, with your arm around me as you used to when I was a child and I was scared, or sick, or hurting, or sad.

There are so many things I never thanked you for when you were alive. I never meant to be ungrateful and always tried to thank you for all you gave me, but it's easy to say "thank you" for a gift like a new toy or prom dress or money when I was in college and couldn't make ends meet. Thanking someone for intangibles is harder. There are so many other things, though, that you gave me, some things that I never knew you gave me until you were gone, but they are just as real as any physical gift you ever gave me, a thousand times more durable, and priceless in value.

Thank you, Dad, telling me "no" and once made, standing firm on your decision, no matter how much I whined or how many tantrums I threw. It couldn't have been easy; you were nearly fifty when I was born. Knowing my lack of patience at thirty-four, I can only imagine how much I tried yours with my seemingly incessant whining. But you had the strength to stand firm, and because of this gift, I learned that the world doesn't revolve around me and the sun doesn't rise and set on my wants, wishes, or desires. You made me a far better person today by helping me to realize that I can't always have my way.

Thank you for having the courage to spank me when I deserved it. You taught me discipline, and as much as I hated the feel of that toy wooden paddle across my little behind, there is not a single scar or mark there today. When I think of childhood friends and classmates who fell by the wayside on the way to their dreams, sidetracked by crime, drugs, alcohol abuse, and unplanned pregnancies, leading to loveless marriages, AIDS, herpes, diseases of every sort, prison, and worse, I'm well aware that it could have been me, were it not for the discipline you instilled at the end of a little wooden paddle.

Along with that, thank you for spanking me when you said you would, instead of following up one meaningless threat of "do that again and I'll spank you!" with an equally toothless threat. You taught me confidence and certainty and trust, because I knew the limits were exactly where you said they were, and I knew the penalties were exactly what you said they'd be.

Thank you for not believing me when as a child and as a teenager I told you I hated you or said I "wish you were dead" because you wouldn't let me have my way. I never meant it, not once, and angry or not, I never should have said it. Now that you really are gone and my heart is still broken eight months later, it shames me to think that I ever said such vile words. Even though you knew I didn't mean it, if there was any way to go back and erase every time I did it, believe me, I would.

Thank you for making me drink a glass of water or juice when I wanted a soda, and making me eat an apple or some grapes instead of a cookie. You instilled in me good eating habits, even though I whined. Today, my weight, cholesterol levels, and blood pressure are the envy of women much younger than me. Remember when I used to compare your meal choices to the family who lived across the street, the ones that let their kids eat anything they wanted, whenever they wanted? When I was in for Father's Day last year, one of the people who came by to say hello was Nicole, one of my childhood friends from the neighborhood. She's a nurse now, too. Patient confidentiality rules mean she technically shouldn't have told me this, but three or four years ago, fate put one of those kids, then an adult, on her unit. He weighed over 300 pounds and was in for his fourth heart attack. Nicole would have loved to introduce herself as the girl from down the street who he used to play with, once upon a time, and ask him if he remembered her. She couldn't, though, because he never woke up. 

Thanks for not letting that be me.

Along those same lines, thanks for making me turn off the TV and go out and ride my bike or walk some place that was half a mile away instead of whining until you or Mom drove me. I exercise every day now, and I feel great. It's true that I could get hit by a bus Mattorrow while jogging and "be the healthiest person in the cemetery" as the naysayers love to say. Even if that happened, God forbid, in the last moment before the bus ran me over I doubt I'd have any regrets.

Thank you for teaching me that scary things are rarely as bad as we think they're going to be, and many of the things we worry about never come to pass in the first place. It's taken me more than thirty years to learn the truth of that, and I still fall into that trap far too often. I'm getting better at it. (I'm sorry, Dad, but this is one I definitely couldn't thank you for while you were alive - I would have been too afraid you'd check with Brian and find out the truth about how much I still struggle with it.)




Father's Day



Thank you for teaching me that there are very few situations in life that can't be improved with a dash of humor. In nearly every photograph of you I have and in most memories of you in my mind, you're either smiling or laughing. Even after you got cancer, as it progressed and you were in great pain, you still managed to find a way to joke and laugh. You inspired patients, nurses, and doctors alike with your courage. I know, because some of the medical staff who cared for you toward the end came to your funeral. Every one of them told me how you made them laugh and how you inspired both staff and patients. Perhaps the best testimony to the effect you had on them is that they attended at all; we rarely go to patients' funerals. I could probably count on my fingers the number I've been to over the years. It's only the patients that have made a real impact on us that we attend.

At your wake, the night before the funeral, everyone was somber, like people usually are at an event like that. But as your friends and family came together and shared little anecdotes about you or funny things you had said or done, before long there was more laughter than I believe I've ever heard at a wake. A few sourpusses clearly didn't approve of such frivolity, judging by the looks on their faces, but I decided they didn't know you very well. If they had, they would have known you would have wanted it just like that.

I've tried to apply your lessons to my own patients. You don't know how often I have a patient who is so nervous about an upcoming test or surgery that they look like they're going to pop like a balloon. I'll often try to find some subtle way, as you so often did with others, to get them to laugh or at least smile, while not giving up an ounce of professionalism. It doesn't always work, but I succeed more often than I fail. When I succeed and the patient smiles or laughs, his or her entire outlook almost always improves.

Thank you for loving Mom, always treating her with respect, and even for loving her more than you loved your children. My brother and I never doubted for a minute, then or now, that you loved us, but we also knew it was Mom first, us second. You always supported Mom's position over ours in an argument, even when we were convinced she was wrong. Looking back now, Mom was right far more often than she was wrong, and it's probably a good thing that she got her way instead of ours. It always gave her great confidence, though, knowing that you had her back, no matter what. Even on those rare occasions when she was wrong, you never undermined her authority by correcting or disagreeing with her in front of us. It also made asking for permission to do this or that much easier for us kids: if Mom said no, there was no use appealing our plea to you, because we knew your answer would only reinforce hers.

I never heard you address or refer to Mom by a derogatory name or by anything other than her given name, a pet name, or a term of the greatest respect, regardless of whether she was present or not, nor have I ever met a friend or acquaintance of yours who ever heard you do so, either. You always introduced her as "My wife", almost always with a flattering adjective in between, such as, "My beautiful wife", or, "My beloved wife", or, "The love of my life". I don't know if you realize how valued and proud it made Mom feel to know that you never referred to her as "the old ball and chain", "nag", or anything else. 

I know, though, how she felt because Brian is just like you were in that regard: even when we disagree or are angry with one another, in more than ten years together I have never once heard him call me a bad name or refer to me unfavorably to friends. It makes me feel like a million bucks and more valued than gold, silver, or diamonds to know that I am as precious to Brian as the day we fell in love. Mom felt the same value from you, and because you demonstrated it so beautifully, it taught both my brother and me that, no longer how married, it never becomes acceptable to treat one's spouse with disrespect.

Thank you for teaching me to believe in myself by believing in me. I sometimes got discouraged, like all kids do. "I can't do this!", or, "I can't learn this!", or "I'm not good enough!" were phrases I used, but you knew what I could do more than I did myself, and you encouraged me to reach my full potential. You never asked me to do what you knew I truly couldn't do. You knew what I could do, you believed in me, and in doing so, you taught me to believe in myself. 

As an adult, I have gone out on some thin limbs before in this situation or that, some that have scared the hell out of me. Not all have been successes, but many of them have been. It was the self-confidence that you instilled in me that enabled me to take those steps. I thank you that you gave me the self-confidence that it was okay to fail, but then get right back on the horse that threw me. I am in places today, both professionally and personally, very good places, that I wouldn't be if not for the will to try.

Thank you for being so approachable that I felt there was no problem so big I couldn't bring it to you. Even if I had committed some awful crime, I feel I could have come to you. You would have been disappointed in me and told me so, and you would have made me do the right thing even if you had to drive me to the police station and stand there while I confessed. But even at that, you would have stood right there beside me, no doubt holding my hand, while I confessed, and I knew there was nothing I could do that was so bad that you'd stop loving me or no longer accept me as your daughter.

Thank you for being such a model of a husband and a father that you didn't have to worry about me dating the wrong guy. I compared them to you, and when they didn't measure up, I ditched them myself. Remember Bill, the guy I dated in high school? He was handsome, funny, popular, and a football player. I was convinced he was The One. But one day we had an argument and he hit me. I told you I got hit in the face with a ball during gym class; I lied to you because I didn't want you to go to jail and Bill to go to the morgue. I knew you had never hit Mom, not one single time, ever, and that's all I needed to know to know he didn't measure up.

Thank you for respecting my beliefs, or lack thereof. Growing up, our family was in church every Sunday, and what's more, you were the same man during the week you were on Sunday morning. But when I grew up, I lacked your faith. I was at church for your funeral; before that, I can't tell you the last time. Watching me turn my back on your beliefs must have broken your heart. I well remember the day you talked to me to try to gently persuade me otherwise. Once. When I still declined, you respected that and didn't pester me. Thank you. I'm truly sorry if I broke your heart. Perhaps one day I'll feel differently; right now, it's too hard for me to take things simply on faith alone. Thank you for accepting that.

Thank you for not pretending that sex doesn't exist. I know that you wanted me to protect my reputation – which I did – by not having sex, and especially by not sleeping with anything that moved. But at the same time, you didn't stick your head in the sand and pretend that I, like every other teenager, was not one big walking bag of hormones, and think that I always would say no. Though I didn't know it at the time, I know now that it was you and your wise guidance that were the reason Mom got me on the pill as soon as I was old enough to have menses, and that the "just in case" condom that was in my wallet was there because you wanted it to be there. I was a good girl, like you wanted me to be, though I did stray on occasion. Thanks for being mature enough to understand that.

Thank you for your wisdom, your love, your patience, and understanding in so many areas. I confess that, growing up, I never really understood why Mom married a man more than twelve years older than herself. Then I met Brian, who is nearly nine years older and I see the wisdom that comes with age. Now I understand perfectly. I'm very happy, Dad; Brian and Matt make me happier than any person on this planet has any right to be. Thanks for teaching me the patience to hold out for the best.

It's 9:30 in the evening as I write this. In a mere two and a half hours, another Father's Day will be in the books, and in the morning we'll start making plans for Fourth of July cookouts, fireworks, and complaining it's too hot and too humid as we start another work week. Here I am, sitting on the sofa in my living room, putting the finishing touches on this essay that perhaps someone will someday be bored enough to read. Even if no one ever reads it, I'm glad I wrote it because it feels good to put all of this down in writing. If you're reading this, thanks for taking the time to listen to the disjointed ramblings of someone who is old enough that she really should know better. I hope something I've written herein has given you something to think about, entertained you, or at the very least not bored you too much. I hope I haven't made you too sad, either. It's not a cheery story, I'm afraid.

I'm cheered somewhat by Brian and Matt as I write this. Those of you who have read Brian's story, "Experimental Anal", know something of his delightful sense of humor, and Matt is the same way. The joy and spontaneity of life those two exude make it impossible to remain cheerless for too long in their presence. Either one of them is an infectious delight to be around. Put the two of them together and you have critical mass. I'll never completely understand how those two can do what they've done and see what they've seen and yet can be so full of life and joy, but just maybe you truly have to go toe to toe with the devil as those two have, time and again, to learn the secret of fully appreciating life. Dad discovered the secret on the war-torn battlefields of Korea in the early 1950's. Brian and Matt discovered it somewhere amongst burning buildings, hazardous chemicals, and car accidents, doing and seeing things that I don't even want to think about. Moreover, Brian found his by reaching into the dragon's mouth, almost losing his life in the process. A lesser man would have lost it, or would not have found the strength and courage to fight back to his feet. Then again, lesser men don't make history, or conquer new frontiers in medicine, science, computers, and so much more.

The "frontier" the boys conquered today was spending the day inventing and devising rules for a new sport they tell me combines the finer points of "bicycling, fencing, and jousting". God help us all. One thing they left out of that was beer, because I'm certain the tinkering they did in the garage as I wrote this today involved massive amounts of beer. As I sit here, looking out the patio doors to the backyard beyond, I see they are testing their new sport. Just now they are taking turns riding at each other as fast as they can, while one pokes at the other with a long pole and the other defends himself with a wooden "sword". You would think two guys in their 40's would know better. Guess not. I'm ready, though: I have a well-stocked medical bag/basic life support kit in our home for most things that can arise. When they wheeled their contraption into the backyard, I simply went to the closet, got the bag, and laid it here on the sofa beside me. Just in case.

Wherever Dad is this evening, I know he's looking down on Brian and Matt right now, and in all likelihood, laughing his butt off. He loved the boys, almost as much as I do. I hope he puts in a good word on their behalf; Matt continues to serve the men and women of our city, and I hope Dad will watch over him to keep him safe in ways that none of us will ever know. I know Dad's proud of both of them, just as much as if they were his own sons. Matt saves lives and property from destruction. Who could not be proud of that? And even though Brian's no longer in the life saving business, I know he's proud of him, too. More than anything, though, I know he's proud – just as I am – of how much they both love "his little girl" and of how happy they make her. He may not be so proud or happy with our relationship arrangement as, in some ways, it's like I'm married to the both of them, but somehow I think he understands.

It's not easy to close an essay like this. How do you summarize and distill into a single paragraph eighty-three years of a remarkable life, one filled with joy, wisdom, and above all, love? Perhaps the best way is to not summarize it at all, to simply leave it open-ended like blank pages of a book waiting to be written upon. Perhaps the best way is to simply dive headfirst into whatever wellspring of joy that presents itself. I think it's what Dad would want. I know it's what Dad would do.

Out of the way, boys; it's my turn on the bike...



Father's Day



It had taken weeks for Mom and me to decide on the perfect present for Dad on Father's Day. I knew that it had to be something extra special, because Dad was, well, Dad. Now, early on the Sunday morning, Mom had slipped out of their bed without waking him and was helping me get ready. I stood, naked in front of her as she ran her fingers over my breasts, gently pulling the nipples, so that they stood proud on my delicate 34 C bosom. Then she ran her hands down my smooth belly until she could circle her finger and thumb around my tiny cock and squeeze it gently. The breasts had been a surprise for Dad on my twenty-second birthday, Mom paying for the surgery and the hormones out of her 'mad money'. 

Mom turned me around and made me bend over the edge of my bed and then gently spread the cheeks of my ass with her fingers. She slowly ran her finger down the cleft and then pressed it gently, but firmly, into the dark hole. I could feel her exploring my back passage, making sure that I was relaxed, ready to please Dad. I felt something cool against the tight ring and realised that she was massaging a little lubricating jelly around my asshole. Mom slapped the cheek of my ass and told me I could stand up and then turned me to face her again. 

Carefully, she applied a little mascara to make my lashes longer and thicker, then a trace of blusher and bright red lipstick. She turned me around again and brushed my long dark hair until it shone, before gathering it into a ponytail and fastening it firmly with a bow. Mom knew how much Dad liked to hold my head still by twisting his hand in my ponytail while he shoved the length of his thick cock into my mouth. 

Once my hair and face were fixed how Mom knew Dad liked them, she went to my wardrobe and pulled a carrier bag from the back. She had not told me what she had bought, but these were specially chosen for Dad to enjoy.

First she brought out a white corset, with half cups so that my nipples would be uncovered. She wrapped it around my waist, slipping my pert breasts into the lacy cups, giving my already hard nipples a pinch and then began to pull the laces tight at the back. The metal stays dug into my sides, but I stayed quiet, knowing that this would be a special treat for Dad.

When she had finished lacing the corset and tying it tightly, she had given me an almost hour-glass figure. Reaching into the bag she brought out a pair of tiny silk panties, just large enough to cover my tiny cock. She knelt down in front of me and slid the silk up my legs, stopping at the tops of my thighs. Leaning forward, she opened her lips and slipped my cock into her warm, wet mouth. Slowly she ran her tongue over the head of my cock as she gently sucked the shaft all of the way to the back of her mouth. I closed my eyes and moaned softly as her head bobbed back and forth. I could feel my cock stiffen in her mouth as she sucked and swirled her tongue all over it. I would have been happy for her to suck me all day, until I spurted into her hot mouth but she drew her head back, keeping her lips tight around my shaft, until my cock slipped from between them with a loud, wet, 'plop'.

Mom pulled the panties the rest of the way over my cock, running her fingers along the bulge it made in the fine silk. Then she took a pair of white stockings out of the bag and slowly rolled them up my legs, fastening them to the suspenders that dangled from the corset. She moved back and stood up, looking at me with an artist's eye. Finally she smiled and nodded.

"Your Daddy will be very pleased." Mom whispered, "Now in you go and give him his Father's Day present."

I crept along the corridor to Mom and Dad's room and pushed the door open. Dad was sprawled across the big bed, the top sheet and duvet pushed down to the bottom end of the mattress. I tiptoed across the carpet and slowly lowered myself onto the bed next to him, my head level with his cock and balls and my legs curled so that my legs rested on Mom's pillow. Dad must have been having a very horny dream, because his cock was thick and hard, sticking straight up from his neatly trimmed pubes. I leaned over and took the base of his cock between my finger and thumb, squeezing it very gently and then opened my mouth and began to slowly lick the head of his cock. I ran the tip of my tongue over the swollen knob, lapping at it like a kitten with a saucer of milk, until the whole of the purple head was shiny with my spit. Then I gently blew on the wetness, cooling his cock, before I slipped the head into my mouth. 

Dad woke with a bit of a start, and reached down, putting his hand on the back of my head and pushing my face right up against his tight balls. The hair around the base of his cock rasped against my lips as the head forced its way into the back of my throat. I swallowed desperately, to keep from choking as he forced my head further down onto his hard cock, filling my mouth. He released my head for a moment and pushed me over, onto my side. I kept my mouth clamped around his cock, sucking and swirling my tongue over his meat as he slit his fingers under the silk of my panties and pushed the waistband down over my hard little cock. 

Dad moved his head a little and slipped my cock into his mouth, taking me right inside and sucking me slowly. I could feel his stubbly chin against the smooth skin of my balls and then he opened his mouth wider and slowly sucked my balls into his mouth. I groaned around his cock, trying to let him know that the feel of his hot mouth was making me incredibly horny. I sucked harder on his knob, bobbing my head up and down the length of his manhood as he sucked on my cock. I know that my cock is really pathetic, but when he was sucking on it I felt as though he had made it as big as a horse's.

Dad worked his cock in and out of the back of my throat as he sucked on my cock, while he unfastened the suspenders and worked my panties down over my ass. I could feel his tongue lashing at my balls as he spread the cheeks of my ass and slowly forced his thumb into my asshole. I groaned and swallowed the head of his cock to the back of my throat and swallowed again and again, so that he could feel my throat ripple against his knob. I could feel him working his thumb in and out of my ass, keeping the same rhythm as his sucking. I could take no more of this torment and before I could do anything to warn him, my cock spurted a thin string of cum into his mouth and down his throat. I felt him swallow, as he gulped my cum down, draining my balls dry, while he rammed his thumb hard into my ass.

Dad opened his mouth and slid my cock out, leaving it to rest on my thigh, limp and oozing the last drops of my cum. He grabbed my ponytail and pulled my head back, so that his cock slid past my lips and out of my mouth with a long, wet, slurping sound. I could see my spit and lipstick smeared all the way from his knob to his balls. Roughly he pushed me onto my back, swivelling me around, so that my head rested on Mom's pillow. He forced his knee between my thighs and rolled on top of me, pinning me down with his knees spreading my thighs wide. I watched as he kneaded my breast with his hard, rough hand, squeezing and pinching my tender nipples until they looked as though they were bruised and swollen. I felt his stubble against my skin as he took my other nipple in his mouth and sucked it between his teeth, biting until I yelped in pain and my little cock started to harden again.

Releasing my soft little titty, Dad reached between us and guided the swollen head of his thick, hard cock between the cheeks of my ass. A jerk of his hips forced the knob into my tight little ass and I arched my back in a mixture of pain and pleasure, forcing my ass further onto his hard cock. He took hold of my legs, behind my knees, and lifted them over his shoulders, draping my calves down his back. I felt terribly vulnerable, my ass tilted upwards so that he could drive the length of his thick cock deep inside me. I whimpered as he pushed, forcing his cock deeper and deeper into my ass, stretching my tight passage and filling me with his swollen cock. I could feel his balls pressed against the curve of my ass and my knees pressed against the underside of my titties as Dad reached up to pinch and twist my nipples until they changed from their usual dusky brown colour into an almost purple, swollen, bruise.

Dad looked into my eyes, seeing how his cock had smeared my lipstick all over my mouth and how the tears of pain had made my mascara run down my cheeks. I knew that the sight of my face messed up like this made him even more turned on than the thought of fucking my tender ass and, as if to prove it, his cock stiffened and swelled even more. Dad groaned out loud and rammed his cock into my ass as hard as he could, bringing fresh tears to my eyes. It felt as though he were splitting me open with his rigid cock and I sobbed in despair as I felt it thicken inside me and begin to jerk.

My ass was burning painfully and this added sensation almost made me pass out. Even worse was to come, almost literally, because his balls tightened and his cock began to pump, spitting thick globs of his cum into my bruised and battered asshole. Every splash of cum felt like a kick deep inside my ass and I grunted in agony with every spurt. Dad held me down as he pumped what felt like gallons of hot cum into my bruised and battered asshole. Then I felt his cock move again and he began to ease it out of my asshole, pulling further and further back until only the rim of his knob was inside me. I could feel cum spurting into me all of the time and something wet and sticky was oozing down the cleft of my ass. I screamed as his knob popped out of my ass and he took hold of the base of his cock. He was still spurting cum and he squeezed the base to hold it back as he straddled my waist and aimed the angry looking head between my tits, releasing his hold so that thick globs of cum splattered onto my skin, feeling like scalding lead on my aching nipples. He tilted the tip of his cock upwards a little and spurted the last drops of his cum into my mouth and across my face, a few drops landed in my hair, matting it together.

At last, he eased himself off me and laid by my side, smearing his cum across my nipples and rubbing it into the soft, golden skin of my tits.

I looked into his eyes, for a moment, and gave him my important message.

"Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I love you."



Father's Day



My wife is 39, I'm 38, and we've been married for almost fifteen years. The years have been good to my wife. She works hard at her job as a cement truck driver and the physical side of it; the heat and the sweat and being on the move all day, really pays off. She's the same weight as the day we got married, only somehow her boobs seem to be bigger; I distinctly remember her as a 34C and these days she's a 36D. 

I know her measurements because I like to buy lingerie for her and bless her heart, she likes to wear it for me. Not all the time, but as a reward for when I've been good. I always try to be good because I like the rewards; I do all my chores around the house on time, I snare good business deals and bring home the dough. I'm a lucky guy and I love my wife a lot, and I like the goodies she throws in when she wears the sexy lingerie I buy for her. 

I'm not talking whips and chains here or anything, and I'm not talking all the feathers and lace and deedle-balls they drape the models with at Victoria's. My wife sports the sexiest panties, the most miniscule of thongs, and she has a collection of lacy see-thru negligees. Certainly not the rudest stuff you see the porn chicks strutting around in but definitely sexier than what Church Lady across the street climbs into for HER hubby (I don't even want to IMAGINE . . .) My wife has the sleek body to go with the outfits, besides. 

Our sex life is good -- I'd be a fool to complain. Like in any marriage, we've gone through our dry spells, but for the most part Wifey worships my cock on a regular basis. She's even been willing to watch porn with me from time to time -- not on a regular basis but every now and then to help set the mood.

One of the things Wifey learned from watching porn is shaving for me 'down there'. I'm really appreciative of this. Wifey keeps her pussy trimmed down into a narrow strip, shaved completely bald from the clit on down. What little pubic hair she has is closely cropped, no more than a 1/4 inch, a nice little patch of silky fur. 

Way back when I first introduced my wife to porn, I had to be careful to pick out the right videotapes that weren't too way out there. I mean, the rudest stuff with endless vignettes of women taking it up the ass or having their faces totally splattered would be a bit over the top to say the least. 

For our special 'movie nights' Wifey would climb into something slinky and we'd cozy up on the sofa to watch a 'couples' type video, stuff that's almost soft-core in nature. Wifey found she appreciated ogling beautiful nude women in all their natural glory just as much anybody.

This has never been a usual thing, maybe three or four times a year. In between the sex is good, far from vanilla-flavored. It's just that we don't overdo it with pushing it to the edge. It makes those Special Nights all the more special. 

The further we've gotten into our marriage, however, it seems the kinkier and more perverted the porn needs to be. Nowadays the wife watches porn to pick up pointers and check out the latest perverted techniques, as much as a mood setter. A beautiful nude just isn't enough for her anymore, she needs to see some action. The women need to be either diddling it outright or taking a pounding, sucking cock and getting cummed on, you know the deal. 

As for my part, what's been turning me on lately is the 'mature' genre; women wearing their hair up in pigtails, to be specific. When a good looking older woman does her hair up in pigtails like a cheerleader, this really sends me. 

I'm talking women in their forties or fifties, naked, doing all sorts of horny activities - legs spread wide, fingerfucking themselves or dildo-ing themselves or on their knees gobbling on the knob, WHATEVER - with their hair done like pre-pubescent teenyboppers. 

Maybe it's the complete contrast there, the total dichotomy of it all. There's a certain naughty taboo, it's a statement if you will, when a mature woman wears her hair in a style that's so totally on the other end of the spectrum. There's a certain message, like, "I'm a totally sexual being and I'm in heat right now." 

I mean, don't get me wrong here; I'm really appreciative of all the hot and slutty things my wife does for me. I just love it when she worships my cock and says all kinds of slutty things in between slurping on the pole. She's willing to bring me to completion orally, and we've gotten to the point where she even lets me cum on her face, I kid you not. But somehow this is not enough. 

Pigtails, I want the pigtails. A hot looking older woman with her hair up in pigtails, that really does it for me. It seems a harmless enough kink, so what's the big deal, right? 

I have openly shared this fantasy with the wife; she just thinks I'm a typically crazy perverted male coming down with a case of the middle-aged hornies. I'm beginning to believe she might be on to something there. Unfortunately she refuses outright to cater to my pigtail kink -- "Not no, but FUCK no!" 

I guess she feels that it's demeaning somehow. As opposed to our usual perverted themes where she's the sexual Goddess, she seems to feel that by putting her hair up in pigtails she'd be entering the realm of humiliation. She is unwilling to demote herself to some lesser form of sex object -- now hold that thought for a moment.

Well I guess wisdom comes with age. I recently picked up one of those self-help relationship books -- something I'd have never done in a million years in my younger days, and right away I picked up on a technique for getting her in the mood. A woman needs kind words, not just actions -- I mean, blinding flash of the obvious here, right? -- and so if I sweet talk her I'll get her feeling all clammy inside, and then good things come . . . 

It came to be that we were sitting around on the deck, enjoying the cool of the evening, listening to the birds roost in the trees and the sound of the little artificial waterfall I put in on the other side of the pool. I held my wife's hand and said nice things, lovely things about how much I love her, how much she's the meaning of my life, how I'd be nothing without her, you know the deal. And the kicker is I meant everything I said. 

Well Wifey got all goose-bumply and she was smiling wide and loving it. She finally got up and we held each other and hugged and kissed a little bit, until she looked up at me with a cheeky look in her eye and said, "Oh, I know why you're being so nice to me -- you want something special for Father's Day, don't you?"

Something about me, I never know what to say when somebody asks me what I want - for Christmas, for my birthday, for whatever -- so when Wifey asked me right out of the blue what I wanted for Father's Day I was my usual nonplussed self. "Uh . . . oh . . . I dunno . . ."

"You want me to do kinky, nasty sex to you like the porn girls do, don't you?" she said with a leer.

"Well, uh, now that you mention it, that WOULD be kind of nice."

"You want me to dress up in stockings and heels and be your whore, fuck you like a hooker, don't you?"

"Heh, heh, you know me too well, Hon." I brushed a strand of hair out of her face as I said this and tucked it behind her ear, and as I did this wide-eyed look came across her face.

"OH! You want me to wear my hair up in PIGTAILS, don't you?"

I swear, I wasn't even THINKING of the pigtail thing, I was just lovingly lifting a strand of my wife's hair with my fingertips, but the second she brought it up I could think of nothing else. "W-e-l-l . . . only if you're, you know, OKAY with it . . ." 

"OK let me see if I have this straight: you want me to give you a blowjob with my hair done up in pigtails?" At this point I couldn't believe my ears but the best was yet to come. "What if I dress up for you like a really horny, dirty little schoolgirl in little white over-the-knee stockings and a pair of those strappy patent leather shoes, with a pleated plaid miniskirt - no panties, of course - so you can fuck me while I'm still wearing it?"

"Well I don't want you to do anything you're UNCOMFORTABLE with, Honey . . ."

There was a bit of a pause while Wifey did a bit of soul searching -- we were still in each other's arms at this point. I was getting totally hard at the thought of her FINALLY going for the pigtails, mind you, and she could feel my boner pressing right against her. 

"Okay," she said with a little tentative nod of her head. "I'll do it for you, Honey. You've been such a good Husby (that's what she calls me) I'll do my hair up in pigtails for you, and all that other horny stuff."

I guess I better not tell her that all I was really counting on was a set of ratchet-drive socket spanners in the larger sizes, standard and metric. I can either do without, or go out and buy those for myself any time. Pigtails, though . . . now that IS something special . . .



Father's Day



Golden lipstick leaves a lustrous fleck along the otherwise blue vein as Mariah's lips coat another inch of my rock-hard meat. Her neck bulges around the amount of manhood that her throat already conceals. Her radiant hair dangles off the giant fourteen foot-wide bed in which two children have been conceived and curls around my toes. As she savors the head, I compare her baby blue berets and her long blonde hair. She wraps her long skinny arms around my ass and pulls me deeper into her throat. As her mouth covers the thirteen bronze inches that lead to a thatch of coarse black pubic hairs, I knead her creamy 22-year old breasts. The flash of orange that is Mariah's skirt inverting itself covers my field of view as she performs a maneuver of physical magnificence. Using only her arms and my body for leverage, she completes a mid-air handstand, her nipples press into the dimples delineating my abs from my lovin' muscles, her stomach flattens on my heaving chest, her long legs encircle my head. I reach to pull aside a yellow thong when I see I won't need to. Two yellow threads spread wide mere millimeters before my Mariah's clitoris to accommodate a fat vagina. Mariah's overstuffed quim pushes two pink pussy lips out as a present to me. Over a lollipop smack I hear Mariah call back "Happy Father's Day, Daddy" and think about how the shape of Mariah's vagina is the only aesthetic effect I've ever really had on her.





Father's Day



Her nipples jut out from perfectly manicured hands capped in sky blue finger-nails. Her skin offers no transition from the flawless cream of the bottom curve of her breast to the narrow top hour glass that hid her rib cage. Where her hips widen, my girth appears miniscule. Her clitoris arcs across two pearls as it gets hung up on a third. Her lips are opened wide, engulfing over 12 inches of thickness. Her insides fight for each inch, and an intense firefight assaults my groin. The precious lubrication we're filling Angela's contested territory with is often suddenly evacuated, either by a twitch of her vaginal muscles or one of my thrusts. Our battle comes to a fever pitch resulting in the final master thrust, wedging open her cervix through the gaping hole her babies had left when they were born, that I had been working to widen with every passionate love-making session these past eight months, now held a cockhead the size of an eggplant. Angela and I roared out in victory as I filled her with stream after stream of spotting jizm. Our mouths were open wide and our teeth were bared. The sweat from my nose dripped into Angela's mouth. Spit from Angela's feral roar blasted my face. For close to a minute I swelled in Angela, emptying my heavy bag and widening the passage through which my little spotted leopard, my adopted Farhan would be swimming out in under a week.

Flaccid and dangling, I extracted myself to wet noises. There was my wet dick slapping my thigh. There were the insides of Angela, coming together again. " Come here, I want to taste me on you" she said There were wet smacks as she sucks the last streams of cum from my pisshole and gush from my head. There was the sound of licking as we both turned to see Mariah, just barely nine years old, asking "What are you guys doing?"





Father's Day



"No, I think it was more of an epiphany, or maybe just repressed emotions mixing with horomones." Farhan's brown eyes locked with hers for several seconds. Angela felt more naked in those long seconds than she had been with Bobby in eight-and-a-half years. 

"I think you are simply an angry girl who wants to hurt her husband."

Angela lunged at him, eager to establish dominance over Bobby's chosen successor. She made headway when she tore of a worn waffle shirt, revealing a thickly corded back and well formed chest and abs, criss-crossed with scars and scabs from fish hooks and barbs of spears. While Farhan's famous white linen pants remain unscathed, Angela couldn't help but notice the blackness that stirred in their depths. He made a play of it, running upstairs and checking out the house as he was chased. "Ah, I see you have a big yard, this is good. I'll expect you to have at least four more children and you only have three bedrooms. We'll need the room to expand." Then he began to search the guest room. "This would be a good room for twins, Angela," he yelled, "I think I will fill you with twins after you have your baby." There was silence. Angela had ceased her pursuit. He searched Mariah's room, the patio, and the bathroom upstairs before heading downstairs. To prolong her waiting, he searched the kitchen, the dining room, the family room, and the green room before finally conceding to enter the master bedroom. 

"So you gonna fuck me or not?"

Farhan's cum oozed out of Angela and onto her orange and black trim bed sheets. 

Farhan's legs remained interlocked with hers, and every now and then, he dipped his erection into her pussy. He rubbed the boy and girl cum mixture up and down his shaft in six slow strokes before dipping into Angela's well again. Despite his withdrawals, a sizeable discoloration had been growing in the bed Bobby and Angela would no longer share.

"so…"

"So."

"I was serious. I don't want that man raising my children anymore."

"Well that's good, because this is just a taste to get you hooked. I won't foster an affair with a married woman." Farhan looked directly into Angela's silver eyes as he spoke. She looked wounded. "Don't worry, it just means we have to start hatching a plan now." 

That night, Angela called a Samoan lawyer Farhan had met at mosque and asked him to call Bobby's cell phone in three days. The apparently harmless lawyer would remind Bobby that he hadn't set up a last will and trust. Two days later, Farhan and Angela had filed away everything in her house that belonged to Bobby and put it in boxes. The last of it, a bat autographed by Hank Aaron, was placed on the table. 

It wasn't Farhan's idea, per se, to recreate the first sexual position he and Angela fucked in on the kitchen table using Bobby's favorite baseball heirloom as a sexual aid. It was integral to the plan that they crush his spirits and this was the first of several assaults they planned to mount on that front. Bobby called saying his plane had landed. "That's great, Bob. See you soon. Buy bread."

Angela put the phone back on the carrier. "He'll be home in forty minutes, we'd better get started. I want you to shoot on his pants." Farhan hadn't worn more than a towel in the past three days. Mariah had been home in the evenings, and they'd explained, as well as you could to an eight year old, that Bobby was on his way out and Farhan would be moving in. She seemed keen on the idea; like they were trading models and maybe they'd be able to swap Farhan for David Beckham or Elvis in the future. Now, with Mariah in school, he roamed the house naked. Part of the reason Angela had boxed up all of Bobby's things was because, at least on some level, Farhan couldn't resist playing the part of the alpha dog, wiping his dick, or simply laying its heavy limpness on one or another of his possessions.

Farhan gave a single shake of his fat cock and Angela dutifully began fellating him to arousal. The act was difficult at first, as Angela wasn't an expert cocksucker. Fitting an entire fist in her mouth was logistically difficult, but she had seen the dye job do it, so she was determined. She started by using simply her lips, covering the head in saliva until it was shiny. Her tongue slipped into his pisshole time and again. What Angela had found unthinkable and Bobby thought unspeakable was embraced in the burgeoning relationship Farhan and Angela had forged on three dates. Once he was aroused, she couldn't open her jaw enough to accomodate his blood-filled penis. Farhan grabbed Angela beneath the ears and said "The angriest he can get is to attack, in which case, we have a bat. Who are we to anticipate the will of Allah?" Angela immediately relaxed, her jaw slacked and Farhan took the initiative. Pulling her head forward, he slipped into her mouth then down into her throat. Farhan was pleased to find that this came naturally for the relaxed Angela. She deepthroated him using a bobbing motion created by her entire body. His palms were like sandpaper and they ground her hyper-sensitive nipples as his fingers squished into her huge breasts. He picked one heavy E cup tit and brushed his fingers along the underside and her hairs stood up on end. She pushed up again and felt the ridge of his cockhead delve deep into her throat, until she was breathing in his jasmine scent. She thought how she couldn't wait to get this kid out her so Farhan could knock her up with the next one. She fisted her clitoris while she strangled herself on his thickness, in anticipation of having to fit it in her vagina that was in such dire need of stretching. 

After orgasm and oxygen-deprivation caused Angela to see spots, she stood up quickly, gasping for breath. Saliva dripped from her mouth and pooled on the table as she leaned on it, discovering she'd shot up faster than she should have. Her back rose up and down, keeping time against the rhythmic rise and fall of her round ass. Farhan rubbed her back as her breathing returned to normal. "You ready for the main event?" 

One arm squeezed her incredible tits together as she reached down and spread her lips apart. He shoved one ball, and then the other, into her tight hole. Angela grabbed the bat and put her clit right on top of the thick part. "Hank Aaron" is hidden in her pubic hair. She laid both hands across the handle, which jutted suggestively from the crack in her cleavage. Farhan slipped his third fist (first fist) into Angela's virgin sphincter and sank deep into her. 

Angela opened her eyes wide. The motion of his hugeness along every corner of her ass set her nerves on fire. The new man who was her equal, with a business he had made rather than a gift he had profited off of. The gifts he used so aptly, withdrawing from her ass and descending inside her pussy, filling her with sensation. Surely, Farhan would raise her children with love, if he could be this considerate of a lover. Her nipples slipped on the kitchen table, lubricated by her own spit. Farhan gave her three short, deep strokes. The membrane that separated the deep parts of her rectum from her ballbag was suddenly pinched between a pair of pearls and one of Farhan's nuts. Her subsequent orgasms were so intense that Angela spent five minutes senseless.

There was a change in posture, which Farhan welcomed. While Angela was laid on the table and experiencing rolling orgasms emanating from her asshole and her pussy, her skin began to tingle. From head to toe, she felt like cats, tongues and claws, were assaulting her all over her body. Her ears filled with a high-pitched din. She adjusted her posture by resting on the palms at the end of her fully extended hands. They experienced difficulties in their genitalian arrangement when Farhan simply couldn't keep his balls inside Angela. At first, he wiped her lubrication away from his sac and used it to slicken his shaft. After two more attempts at shoving his nuts into Angela's pussy, once while using four of his fingers to assist in the process, he came to a realization. Angela was now widened out and lubed up enough for the main event. 

"We'd better change position, Angela. I don't want to hurt you."

" Oh just stick it in. Bobby will be home soon and I want to see his face."

Farhan's face became stony and his tone solemn. "As you wish." Now it was rod time. Farhan slowly pulled out of Angela's butthole. The 4-inch hole he left would have been quick to shut him out, but he held it open with his left hand. Farhan fumbled around with his right hand and found a glass that Angela had drunk a beer out of. He remembered the tightness of her sphincter, and didn't dare sink the glass the hole way in, but instead left two inches between the round muscle and the rim of the glass. Angela's house let out a piercing "Hooooo!" as Farhan forced Angela to make room for him as well as the glass. He entered swiftly, but was elated to find that his pubic bone had crushed her ass cheeks into her hips before his cockhead touched her cervix. He began humping into her wide hips heedlessly, holding onto her heaving breasts with fully extended arms. "Yes, yes! You take it all! Thank you, you wonderful woman, for coming into my life." Farhan had both his knees on the table as he bored out Angela's leaking pussy. 

"Oh, Oh. Keep going, Farhan. Don't stop!"

"In you I find an equal, one who is a match for me on all fronts."

Farhan slowed his thrusts as Angela tightened up. He felt an orgasm coming on, and as it gripped him, he withdrew and ejaculated into the pint glass. 

"I really meant keep fucking me!"

Aside from the cup of creamy sperm it had thrown up into the glass in Angela's ass, Farhan's erection was unphased. He honored Angela's request, content that if he couldn't punish her during sex, he could punish her by withholding sex. He took special care to rub his pearls along Angela's g-spot, hoping to create as huge a mess as possible for Bobby's return. The table was already slick with Angela's fluids. Farhan's sperm was sloshing out of the glass and onto her back and the floor with each fucking motion. Farhan knew what was most important was adorning Bobby's bride with as many gifts as possible before he returned, to make his spell complete. The pearls were just one. He had brought her in on a wave of orgasms that would leave her on the deserted beach of the man that was Bobby

Farhan was buried deep when he came in. His feet were actually up on the table now to improve his penetration. He grunted with each thrust. Foot-long ropes of cum covered Angela's back. She had her legs and arms spread out, and considering her already much bigger frame, if she hadn't been moaning loudly, it would have looked like she was fucking a chimp.

Bobby stood there, watching them rut like animals, until Angela addressed him directly. "Hey Bobby. Unh, I'm pregnant again. Oh…We've only been…unh… doing this for three days…uh… since I found out, really. I don't want you to raise another one of… OH! my kids… so you're out. Farhan's in. He's so in." Bobby rushed Farhan then and as he jumped on the table Farhan jumped off. He pulled the glass out of Angela's sphincter and the sudden feeling of emptiness caused a gushing orgasm that drenched Bobby's back.

"You never made me come like that, did you?" Angela asked.

Bobby turned around, glaring at her for an instant. There was a whistling in the air, and his eyes fixed on a blur of motion. His autographed bat was coming straight for his nose.

Bobby coughed as he regained consciousness. He couldn't breath clearly for all the blood in his mouth and his nose was swelled shut. There was a consistent ringing in his ears. The red dress shirt he'd been wearing was covered in blood and something that smelled vaguely like almond milk. He opened his eyes and his wife was blowing the dark man she had introduced to him as Farhan. Her eyes were closed. Farhan was looking right at him. As they made eye contact, he stroked Angela's hair once and pulled his dick from her throat. The fat, lecherous thing actually lurched once as it began shooting cum. 

Bobby was appalled to find it aimed at him. He was slumped three feet away and he still came under fire from seven streams of jizm. They were warm and he could feel their heat on his face, in his hair, even on his chest, through his shirt. As an afterthought, it upset him to think that Angela felt left out of the cumbath. Bobby watched Angela satiate herself on the white piece of snot that dangled off Farhan's helmet. She seemed glad to resume blowing him. 

As Farhan began to thicken once more, Bobby learned why. Pulling a Navel orange-sized cockhead from his wife's mouth, Farhan stroked his cock slowly in front of Bobby and asked, "Would you like to get in on this? It's pretty lubed up now. I'm sure it'll slide right in." Bobby's face betrayed a fear he hadn't felt in years. Before he could form a rejection beyond "N-n-n-n," 

Angela presented the other half of the offer. In her hand she held the pint glass that Farhan and she had filled with their frothy love juices while Bobby had been unconscious. "If you're scared, all you have to do is drink the nectar of your inadequacy." 

That night, after Bobby drank the evidence of his wife's disdain, he spent the rest of the afternoon puking. Following a particularly spiteful bout, he received a call from a lawyer who "understood that his last will and trust was woefully out of date." He made an appointment to see him the next day and made sure to leave every thing he owned to his son Abe Ritchey in the event he died. The second Bobby left the office, the Samoan lawyer called Farhan to notify him about the arrangement. 





Father's Day



She lost her flair for providing a bigger better present year after year. All she wanted was for your happiness. In the midst of her attempts, you lost some of your flair for her.

All you wanted was to be satisfied again, just the way she used to provide for you. Somehow, she lost that knack and you wondered if she had forgotten what turned you on. Whatever the reason for your involuntary diminished appetite, this was going to be a weekend for you to remember.

The phone calls seemed out of place and unlikely. She was dialing out at random hours with no traceable numbers. The tone of her voice changed. It became sweeter although not fake. She was more sincere. You were becoming interested in her doings. She did not let on to you that anything was different. Your suspicions would have been appropriate if your birthday were near. She always made an effort to honor you on that day.

Being the inquisitive person you are, your mind was not going to settle until this mini mystery was solved. You checked the closets for bags of clues when she returned home from shopping. You retrieved mail from the box before she asked you to, and before she even got home. There were no rsvp cards. Emails were generic or they were solicitations. There were no additional miles on the car for her scheming travels that may have been needed in her planning. Each night, you lay awake hoping she'd talk in her sleep.

Days had gone by and her pleasant voice had not waned. The phone calls had stopped. She did her best to please you in any way she could think of. Her best though was simply not what it used to be and was hardly good enough. 

Tolerance to the sensations you once found satisfying was now at a higher level. The details you now require to keep you aroused are different. The quiet years and standard activities have allowed you to become quiet about asking for the things you truly desire. 

You are certain you dream about many things along those lines because you regularly wake to a beautiful branch of morning wood. Sometimes even before morning arrives, you are woken to the feel of your hand wrapped carefully around your cock. The jiggling of the bed is because you were jerking off in your sleep. Those are the nights you woke her as well. You never realized she was there next to you getting off on the sight of you. While you did it, she asked what you saw, but talking in your sleep was nothing you responded to. 

You were not aware of the lesser-celebrated holidays throughout the year. It always took for someone to remind you that certain ones were coming up. Otherwise, every day was celebrated just the same.

The window was opened during the night, cooling your crisp white sheets. The morning birds and the distant clanking buoys on the bay were singing in harmony. It was music to your ears an brought you back to those youthful hellion days living closer to the shore. Fresh flowers and garden scents filled the breeze that danced across your bare chest. The sheets were tucked beneath your elbows, tightened across your stomach. The quilt had been tossed off during the night and the single layer of sheet was pleasantly draped across your masculinity.

This morning you rose with a feeling different than recent days. Coffee in bed was a special treat, but it was keeping you from your own normal routine. Breakfast in bed accompanied the coffee. It went down so well, comforting you in a way that you would not soon forget. 

Your standard routine could wait. While you swallowed your last bites, she began conversation. It was not like you to prefer talking while you ate, but the meal was good, almost finished, and she made the effort for you. In actuality, you allowed the talking because her first words were inquiries as to a recent fantasy of yours. The fork clanked to the plate as she removed the tray. You began.

"I was envisioning you with another woman." 

The empty juice glass toppled over and she dropped the fork off the tray. When her arms stopped quivering, she placed the tray on the floor and then settled her weak knees. Sitting in the small chair next to the bed, she looked at you and waited for details. If she could speak, she would have asked you to tell her more, but without her asking, you were not giving up the information.

"Wonderful breakfast" you thanked her. With that, you settled back down a bit into the crisp white sheets as one hand reached for hers. You held her hand for a while. Her arm or her wrist or her hand was able to feel your cock as it hardened with your description of the fantasy. 

You made sure she could feel you while you shared those secret visions. Your shared excitement was expression enough that she'd know you were serious about the fantasy. One detail you did not share was a physical description of who that other woman would be. There could be no comparing one woman to the other. One qualifying factor is she had to be willing and venturesome.

Finally, she spoke again as her normal pace of breathing resumed. The smile on her face was tough to figure. You could only apply your own thoughts to it -- one thought was that she was thrilled and loved the idea. Closer to reality was that she truly wanted to please you. 

You took care of all the domestic tasks around the house all morning and planned a boa t ride later in the afternoon. You were hot and sweaty and took your time cleaning off in the shower. Cool water soothed you this morning, while the bubbly creamy lather coated your body. As the sprays of water rinsed all the bubbles off, you filled your palm again with the soap and rubbed your hand over your cock and balls. 

You stood back against the wall with a handful, patiently waiting for it to reach full potential. While you were becoming stiff, you hummed your usual shower song but today it became more of a moan. It brought you to a different place than you normally would be. It made you stop to wonder what was so different about the day. 

The feel of your hand was amazing. Your imagination turned your own hand into the other woman's hand reaching through t he shower curtain to assist you. You were feeling your own cock the way you imagined it would feel to her. The song you moaned continued to transform into the moans of sexual ecstasy. You rubbed yourself up and down as you wanted her to. 

When you stroked it faster, it turned you on more, brought you closer and made you slow it down so the magic would last. Your other hand slid casually along your chest through the lather and trussed your balls. A gentle pulsating massage accompanied the sensual strokes. 

Again, the mind shifted your hand to experience what the hand of a woman may feel. You focused on how she'd feel in the shower, massaging your body and slipping her hands all over with the lathery soap and bubbles. This was your test of whether she'd touch you right. You wanted to know if being touched in this way would be as sensually appealing to you. Every answer was yes.

You knew for certain that when this fantasy came true, you wanted to be in the shower. You envisioned the nude women before you. Just as your shower neared the end, the curtain opened to reveal a beautiful scene. Two women stood before you on the mat. You closed your eyes to 'see' them better. 

The steam filled the room as you shifted to a hot water shower. The moist air carried with it the scent of two beautiful women. You could smell their sexual appetites as their hunger for you grew. Cracking your eyes open just a slit, you saw the outlines of their nude bodies through the haze. The mirror reflected a picture of their curvy backsides. Each one had a hand on her ass, rubbing it in small circles. 

Watching the tender touch of a woman on another woman was a sight unlike any other. They had a way of stimulating each other without the hard contact that a man may give. When they saw you peeking beyond the curtain at them, they turned their bodies sideways to face you, but did not entirely end that kiss. Standing side by side and cheek to cheek, their tongues still stretched to French-kiss one another. The feel of someone else's tongue on her lip was ticklish, causing giggles and a fast re-connect to dampen the tickle. 

You turned down the water and stood watching as they turned to each other reengaging in the embrace you imagined. Their sweaty bodies slid against one another. You scanned their bodies as their breasts became one. The small space between their bellies allowed for the view of the different hair colors as they brushed against each other. 

Your breath deepened as you tried to recapture composure. Your hand was outstretched trying to reach the women before you. The sweat between their bodies trickled along their abs and down to their soft pussies. One finger was almost touching the droplets. But that finger was not yours. 

The women were taking care of themselves. They began humming their own tunes. At just the right moment, the pitch of the song changed and one woman was sitting on the edge of the tub with her arms wrapped around the other's waist. She pulled her one step closer and buried her face in the soft silk hiding those hot lips. You watched her expression as the other's tongue began some magic. Her hands went up over her head and she held her elbows, tightening and stretching the extra energies from her body. 

Those firmed breasts pushed through the steamy air offering you access to her hardened nipples. After the stretch, she squeezed her own breasts, pinched and massaged her nipples before lowering her hands along her belly to meet the face in her pussy. Running fingers through her hair, she continued lower to feel the other's breasts. 

They took turns sucking and licking while the song humming continued. You began to hum along as your erection returned bigger and harder than before. 

One long firm final stroke before the water turned off completely, you successfully yet reluctantly held off on that second orgasm of the day. 

As you slid the shower curtain aside to join the ladies, the room was empty. The only scent was your soap and shampoo, not that of the women. Your mood sank as you realized this was just a fantasy of the moment. She'd never go for it you thought as you grabbed a towel off the rack.

When you left the room and went back to your bedroom, you were greeted by those same women lying in your bed.

Happy Father's Day....

May your dreams all come true!



Father's Day



"Happy Father's Day!" Lucille said as she barged into her daddy's room with a homemade breakfast of eggs and bacon. Her daddy, John, awoke suddenly and smiled at his girl. 

"Why, thank you princess! What a nice gift, but of course the best gift is you," he said as he took the food and began eating. 

Lucille was a young girl of 20 years. She lived at home with her father and attended university close by. John didn't want her to move away for college, so he paid for her tuition at the nearby university.

Lucille sat next to her father on the bed and put her head on his shoulder, like she had done since she was very young. But this time was different as she couldn't help but notice her father's morning wood through his boxer shorts. Embarrassed, she stood up from the bed and blushed.

"Princess, you don't have to leave. Sit here and eat with me. It's delicious!" John said.

Lucille cleared her throat and sat next to him on the bed. She tried to ignore the tightening of her pussy in response to his morning erection.

"Daddy, I'll miss you when you leave on your business trip," Lucille said, trying to ignore her troubling thoughts about her own father's cock.

"I'll only be gone two days, Lucy" John said, finishing up his meal, "But I'll miss you too."

He gave her a kiss on the forehead and Lucy took the breakfast tray to bring it downstairs to the kitchen. John started to get out bed but stopped, and Lucille averted her eyes in embarrassment again to avoid him catching her watching his cock. 

She wondered if he even noticed? Why would he parade his cock around like that? And most importantly, why was she tingling? It's sick to get wet off of your own father. Lucille turned red in shame and quickly left her father's room.

John watched her leave the room. He was also embarrassed as he realized he was about to get out of bed with a boner. He frequently got an erection when his daughter came into his room and laid her head on his shoulder in bed. He also frequently jacked off after she left, knowing that it was wrong to get hard off his own daughter, but couldn't help it.

He got up and closed the door to his room, went into the bathroom connected to his room and jacked off, thinking of his daughter's soft white skin, her brown curly hair, her small perky tits and her round, smooth ass.

Fuck. What a sick bastard. He thought to himself after cumming from thinking about all he could do to his sweet young little girl. He got into the shower, thinking that it had been so long since he had a woman after his wife and Lucille's mother died 10 years ago. It was good he was going away on business. Maybe he would return without all these sick fantasies of fucking his daughter. ---------- Meanwhile Lucille was in the kitchen cleaning up the dishes, trying not to think of her father's erection and how it made her body react.

As soon as she heard the shower, she thought of him naked, jacking off his morning erection. She could feel a wet spot forming in her panties, and her clit was itching. 

It's not like she didn't have fantasies of her father before. Sometimes when he touched her waist, kissed her or hugged her, she felt his strength and his love and her pussy reacted without her wanting it to. She would go to her room and masturbate thinking of him, always feeling ashamed afterward.

And that's exactly what she needed to do now. She quickly finished the dishes and ran up to her room, eager to cum before her daddy left the shower so he wouldn't hear her. Sometimes she couldn't help but moan out.

She laid down on her back and began rubbing her tits and pinching her nipples. She wore a purple tank top with purple pajama bottoms, with no bra and crisp white panties.

Her nipples hardened and she continued rubbing her tits with one hand, while the other hand attended to her pussy, burning for attention. Her pussy had become swollen with desire and soaking wet. The continuous flow of pleasure from her tits rushed to her pussy, keeping it wet.

She pulled her pants down to her ankles and spread her legs wide for herself. 

The first touch of her cold hand to her hot pussy made her jump and gasp. She massaged her outer pussy lips with her two fingers, making a peace sign. Then she touched her middle finger to the opening of her pussy to get it nice and wet with her love juice and slid her finger through her pussy lips to her swollen clit. 

She let out a soft moan as she put soft pressure on her woman spot and rubbed slowly, working herself up. Sweat began to bead on her forehead. It was a hot morning.

She began rubbing faster at her clit and putting more pressure, preparing her self to cum. She though of her daddy and his hard cock and how she wanted to feel his hard cock in her hands, her mouth and her pussy. 

She was rubbing harder and faster, pinching her nipples so that they hurt in sweet pleasure. She lost her control and began moaning, but tried to muffle herself with a pillow. She moaned "Daddy, Daddy, Oh! Daddy!" ---------- Lucille didn't notice that the shower had stopped. She hadn't noticed that her door was open just a crack, and she didn't noticed her daddy watching her and listening to her muffled cries of pleasure. 

John's cock grew harder than it ever had before. His daughter wanted him too? He gripped his cock in his hand and it was all he could bear to keep from going into his princess's room and make her cum, as she was about to do while moaning his name. ---------- Lucille was about to come when she thought of how wrong it was to want her own father's sex. The thought of its wrongness and her disappointment at the fact that her daddy would never fuck his own little girl ruined her sex drive. She let out a sigh and rubbed her clit at a slower pace, calming herself down. --------- John saw his daughter stop masturbating. Did she cum? he wondered. It sure didn't seem like it, though she was sure close. He was jacking off his cock, and didn't want her to stop pleasuring her beautiful body. He hadn't seen her vagina since he changed her diapers, and it looked like a beautiful woman's cock-hungry pussy from afar now that she was 20.

John couldn't stand that she looked so sad after moaning his name and didn't even cum. He wanted his daughter to have the best of everything, even her own masturbation.

He put his dick back in his jeans, zipped them up and knocked on her door, and walked in almost immediately afterward, not giving her a chance to get dressed. ---------- Oh fuck. Lucille thought. There was her daddy at her door and she was laying on her bed with her pants at her ankles, rubbing her pussy while her other hand was underneath her shirt playing with her tits.

"Daddy! Oh my god, Leave!" Lucille shrieked, shocked, excited and embarrassed.

"Oh princess, I'm sorry. I heard moaning and I thought you were crying," John lied, turning red, as his erection swelled watching Lucille stumble off of her bed and scramble to pull up her pants.

But John didn't leave.

"Daddy!" Lucille said, expecting him to leave and feeling very confused when he didn't.

"Baby," John said, approaching Lucille with his arms open.

"Yes, Daddy?" Lucille was confused, and a little frightened. Why was he not leaving he room?

John sat on his daughter's bed and motioned for her to sit on his lap. 

Lucille hesitated, and John lost it. He could smell the sweet scent of her fresh young pussy and now that he knew she masturbated to him, he wanted to fuck her.

"Princess, come sit on my lap" John said in a stern tone. When Lucille stood next to him blushing and breathing heavily, he told her, "Be daddy's good girl and come sit on my lap or daddy will have to punish you."

Lucille's pussy, freshly denied of an orgasm, immediately became swollen and wet again and begged for attention. Lucille decided to fuck her daddy, but she wanted a little more fun first.

"No, daddy. This isn't right" Lucille said, pouting her lips.

"I'll tell you what's right and what isn't" John said, pulling his daughter by her arms and her hair down across his lap. He had her young fine ass in his lap, and his dreams had finally come true. 

Lucille smiled to herself and whimpered in pleasure at the pain of her hair being pulled and he daddy being so forceful with her. She liked it when he acted strong and forceful. It was manly and made her pussy tighten with anticipation.

John pulled down his girl's pants and massaged her soft, smooth ass cheeks before smacking one. 

Lucille jumped and squeaked with the spank. John continued to spank her, and she started squirming as her ass cheeks began to burn with pain and pleasure. She let out a moan with each slap on her ass.

"Are you going to be a good girl for your Daddy, princess?" John asked as he watched her ass turn white to pink to red.

"Yes Daddy!" Lucille moaned to him. She wanted the spanks to stop. 

"Yes sir?" John commanded, with two more spanks.

"Yes sir, yes Daddy!" Lucille cried out. Her pussy was so soaked she left a wet spot on Daddy's jeans.

John let his daughter get up and commanded her to strip naked.

"Yes sir" Lucille said, as she quickly removed her top and kicked off her pants. She couldn't believe she was standing naked in front of her daddy as a grown woman, and she was loving it.

John surveyed his daughter's body. She had a small frame and had nice wide hips, a narrow waist and a beautiful dripping pussy.

"Oh, baby, you're so pretty" John said as he stood and embraced her small frame in his large one. 

They kissed, father and daughter. A long sensuous, wet kiss that made Lucille shiver with lust.

"Oh, Daddy" Lucille said, about to beg him to take her now.

John began kissing her soft neck and moved down to her collarbone. He got to his knees and began sucking her small breasts. Lucille gasped and moaned softly, closing her eyes and enjoying his hands running up and down her waist, hips and thighs and his lips enclosed around her nipple, sucking gently.

John began planting kissed down her belly, stopping just above the division of her pussy lips.

"Princess, you are beautiful" John said, unable to ignore his pulsing erection any longer. He wanted to pleasure his little girl, but needed to relieve some pressure from his cock. He stood up and pushed her shoulders down until she kneeled in from of him.

"Baby, you know what to do, right?" John asked as he took off his pants and underwear, revealing his thick, hard cock to his baby girl.

Lucille immediately started rubbing her clit at the sight of her daddy's cock. She wanted it for so long, and it was the perfect size. Not too long and not to short. Nice and thick and hard as steel.

"Oh Daddy, I know what to do. I know how to suck cock, Daddy" Lucille said, choosing dirty words on purpose and kissing the head of her daddy's cock.

She put the head of daddy's cock in her warm wet mouth and swirled her tongue around it.

"Fuck" was all John could say as his princess wrapped her hand around the base of his dick and sucked the rest of it, moving her head back and forth slowly at first and then more quickly.

As John watched her lips around his cock and watched her cheeks suck his hard shaft, he couldn't help but grab her hair and shove his cock deep into her mouth. He wanted to own her, and show her how to fuck although she was great at it already.

Lucille almost choked as her daddy shoved his cock into her throat, but held her gagging down. She furiously rubbed her clit and moaned onto his cock. He was taking control now, using her face as a fuck toy, dominating her. She loved it.

"Take it, baby. Be a good girl and take daddy's cock down your throat," Daddy said as her moved her head back on forth on his cock with her hair. He loved her moans and the small tears forming in her eyes from almost gagging on his cock.

John felt his balls tighten to cum, but didn't want to cum yet, so he released his precious girl, and she gasped for breath as his cock left her mouth.

"Good girl. Do you like sucking Daddy's cock?"

"Yes sir, I love sucking your cock Daddy." Lucille said, still rubbing her clit and approaching orgasm for the second time.

"Stand up and stop touching yourself," John commanded.

Lucille unwillingly stopped rubbing her clit, robbing it of an orgasm yet again, but obeyed her Daddy.

He led her to the bed and she got on top of it on her hands and knees, sticking her ass and pussy out for her Daddy, eager for his cock.

John wasted no time and pounded his cock into his precious daughter. Lucille moaned in ecstasy and quickly came all over his hard cock.

"You like that cock, don't you baby girl?"

"Yes Daddy! I love you cock Daddy!"

"Oh what a nasty girl, fucking her daddy"

"I'm your nasty little girl daddy! Please fuck me like that Daddy!" Lucille screamed as John pulled her head back by her hair and slapped her ass while pummeling his cock into her soaked, tight, hot pussy.

"I'm your nasty little girl daddy! Your little slut princess," Lucille moaned again, as her daddy leaned forward to grab her throat and pulled her hair as his balls tightened to cum into his little girl's sweet pussy.

"Fuck, baby. I'm cumming."

"Oh, Daddy, cum inside me, Daddy. Please Daddy, I want your hot cum!" Lucille reached orgasm herself and came again all over her dominating daddy's cock. 

The contraction of her body and her pussy pushed John over the edge and he shot his hot seed into his little girl's womb.

The two collapsed onto her bed, panting and sighing in ecstasy. John held his daughter in his arms as his cum leaked out of her pussy onto her thighs.

"What a bad girl you are"

"What a naughty daddy!"



Father's Day Campus Visit Ch. 1



I was excited to visit my daughter for the first time since she went away to college. IT was the first time for her to be away from home. First time in so long for me to be back on a college campus. I was looking forward to spending the father's day weekend with my sweet daughter. She is almost 19 very cute, athletic, fit, and very mature. She is a soccer player.

My daughter is very gorgeous. She is about 5.6, 125 lbs., very fit muscular soccer player thighs, gorgeous legs, flat stomach, very nice round cute sexy ass, and she is the only one in the team that has 34D tits. When she would come running to the car when I go pick her up I can see her hard nipples sticking out from her sports bra. As soon as she gets home she would take her jersey off and walk around the house in sports bra and sexy soccer shorts. When she wiggles her ass in those shorts, it stops my heart.

There was one time when she threw her clothes on the floor and dashed into the shower naked not realizing I was standing right there. That was the first time I had seen Jenny fully naked in her all glory gorgeous cute teenage body. I was amazed at how gorgeous she was, how sweet round and perfect her butt was and how sexy she looked and how she had managed to keep her crotch completely shaved and bald. That night I thought about Jenny while lying in bed.

Anyway she picks me up at the airport - looking all gorgeous and sweet and sexy. We drive to her apartment. Her roommate will be busy studying and spending time with her dad. I went into the bathroom to freshen up and put on my dinner suite. As I came out I saw her dash out of her room to avoid me look at her. She was naked again with the same old cute tooshie and gorgeous butt and sexy breasts. As she ran out she yelled "oh not the second time dad - why you always catch me naked" she laughed and went into her roommate's bathroom.

10 minutes later my gorgeous daughter walks out with a killer black gown-type dress with spaghetti straps. Her breasts pushed up and cleavage looking so sexy. Her gorgeous round tight butt sticking out from her dress, which makes her look, like a model. You can't see her nipples through the black dress but they are hard I can tell. She smiles and says "so how come you always manage to catch me naked dad?" she gives me a smile that can melt iron. I smiled back and said, "May be because you want me to." I winked at her and she winked back and said, "I hope I didn't embarrass you daddy" and all I can say was "no just made me hot" we looked at each other smiled and walked out the door to go to dinner. During dinner she sat next to me and kept placing her hand on my thigh. What a naughty daughter I have. I don't know what had gotten into her but I was not about to complain.

After dinner we went for a quick walk on campus and ended up going to a nice dance club. We both love to dance so after a couple of beers we ended up on the dance floor doing dirty dance of grind and moan to almost any song. I was getting hard - I was afraid she would be able to feel my fat thickness as she grinds her pelvic area against my crotch. I didn't help matters, as when she would grind her crotch against mine I would have my hand on her butt and pulling her more into me. We pretended as if we were on a date enjoyed our time until the bar closed at 1am.

As we got home there was a note on the refrigerator from her roommate that read, "my dad was a no show. My little brother fell off the bike. Hope you and your dad are having a good weekend. Jessica came to keep me company" I was too much into my daughter to think about anything else. We walked over to her room so I could go change and crash on the couch when we both heard moaning and giggling sounds from her roommate's bedroom. We both brought our ears close to the door to hear shelly (her roommate) and Jessica moaning and panting and telling each other how good her tongue feels inside her pussy. My jaw dropped. My daughter smiled at me and motioned me to get away from the door. We didn't say a word then but by our eye contacts, body language, and smiles and winks it was obvious that I was excited to hear that her roommate was having sex with another woman. Anyway I change in Jenny's bathroom into boxers and tee shirt and tiptoed back out of her room to the couch but not before stopping at Shelly's door to hear moans and pants and whimpers and "oh shit oh fuck - fuck me make me cum” I smiled motioned my daughter letting her know things are going well in that room and got under the covers on the couch.

A half an hour later I heard Shelly’s door open and two girls walked out towards the main door. After a few whispers and kisses Jessica left. In the dim light of the room I noticed Shelly was wearing satin panties and nothing else no shirt no bra as she wiggled her ass back towards the bedroom. Interestingly enough she knocks on Jenny's bedroom, the door opens and she stands there for 10 minutes naked talking to Jenny. They finally hug and Shelly goes into her own bedroom and shuts the door and Jenny does the same. 

What seems like an hour or more, I heard Jenny's door open and I see her shadow walk out and towards me. She comes over and sits next to me and looks me right in the eye. "I can't sleep daddy - I am just restless” Not knowing what’s wrong I asked her if she was thinking about Jessica and Shelly and she said "no daddy I am thinking about our dancing - I liked it can we dance again right now” I didn't know what to think but all I saw was my babygurl's sweet innocent face asking daddy to dance with her. I got up in my boxers and tee shirt and followed her to her room. She shuts the door and puts on a dance number but very soft. We start to grind dance again but this time she seems more aggressive. She grabs my butt and pulls me towards her; she grinds more hard against me and kisses my cheek and lips several times. Then she turns around and faces her butt to my crotch and starts to grind and wiggle and tease me with her butt cheeks. I can't help but hold onto her waist and guide her grinding motion against my crotch, which is harder than hell right now. She was bent over so far down and her ass was sticking to my crotch so hard that I was obvious she was doing this on purpose. That was confirmed when she brings her hands back holds her ass cheeks wide apart and pushes her crack into my crotch resting my hardness almost between the crack. I hold onto her waist and move in the fucking motion no longer dancing to the beat.

After a few minutes, she turns around slides her panties off and yanks my boxers off and start to grind dance again - only this time her moist pussy lips are grinding against my hard fat daddycock. I am about 8" long and 4" thick its hard fat and I shave my balls and crotch area clean. As Jenny grinds her pussy against my hard fat cock I hold onto her back and guide her motion to help her grind it just enough to rub the head of my cock against her wet slit. She then repeats her motion of grinding her ass against my cock - only this time my cock is resting between the crack of her gorgeous ass as I grab hold of her waist and start to grind with her. This goes on for a few minutes until she turns around kisses my cheeks gets down on her knees and engulfs my FAT hard cock in her mouth all the way cupping my heavy balls and stroking my base. No words were spoken just heavy breathing and panting sounds and sucking and slurping sounds of her licking my pre-cum off the tip of my thick swollen cock head.

As I look down I see my gorgeous daughter looking up in my eyes and smiles as she stuffs her gorgeous sweet mouth with my full fat thick mancock. She moves her head up and down to suck my cock and give me the feeling of sliding my cock in a tight little wet cunt. Only that it was her mouth and that I was holding the back of her head to guide her sucking and fucking motion. As my balls get tightened, her mouth gets wet and hot, my cock gets thicker, and I moan and start to shoot gobs and gobs of sweet cum into her mouth. She drinks it all except a few drops that drool out of the side of her mouth and onto my balls, which she later licks them clean. I lift her up kiss her mouth hug her tight and lay her down onto the bed, spread eagle. I get between her legs and first time see a gorgeous puffy lipped swollen lips bare shaven and pink pussy lips of my babygurl up close. I slide down between her legs and start to slide my tongue over her hot little clitty sucking her pussy lips and sliding my tongue inside her pussy hole. After 10 minutes of eating her gorgeous pussy she crosses her legs around my head and screams as she cums and cums and cums into my mouth. 

As we recover from our craziness, she says " oh god daddy that was the best pussy licking I have ever felt - now I need a hard cock to pound into my empty cunt - will you please fuck my pussy daddy?" All I can do was nod and before I could say anything Jenny's mouth was locked around my cock and she was sucking it to make it hard and fat and thick again. In no time my cock was fully erect and I was ready to slide it into my babygurl's sweet pussy hole. She pushes me back onto the bed. As I lay on my back with my cock sticking out and up, she lowers her gorgeous honey sweet cunt onto my fat cock pole - slowly at first to get used to an incredibly fat thick knob. Once she got used to it she started riding me like a fucking horse that I am, grabbing the thickness of my cock with her cunt lips. I massage and pinch her nipples and massage her gorgeous thighs and waist and butt cheeks as she slams her cunt onto my fat cock and shoves it up her cunt all the way until my balls are slapping and grinding against her ass crack. In no time I hear her moan and whimper as she throws her head back and drenches my cock and balls and my thighs with the sweetest pussy cream ever. As she comes down from her natural high she feels my cock getting harder inside her hot cunt - she grinds her ass cheeks against my balls, flexes her muscles and massages my cock and balls until I can't take it anymore and shoot my load of cum into her horny cunt. My balls still grinding against her ass crack.

As she sat there on top of my cock getting softer inside her horny cunt and as I lay there feeling her cunt juices drip down my thighs we sensed a presence of somebody. It was Shelly standing by the door with her hands in her panties no shirt, nipples hard, a smile on her face as she said "Can’t wait to share the family..."



Father's Day Campus Visit Ch. 2



Chapter 2

I just shot gobs and gobs of thick creamy load deep inside my gorgeous horny daughter’s tight little pussy as she rode on top of me.  As we both calm down we realize we have been caught by Shelly.  We didn’t know what to say or do at first.  I mean how do you explain daddy coming to visit his daughter and ending up pounding his fat cock deep in and out of her tight little pussy.  When I heard “Can’t wait to share the family” it made me relax a bit.  My ears perked up in no time though when I thought about “share the family” I wonder what she meant. I was soon to find out.

Shelly was standing by the door with her hand in her panties moving fast, a very naughty smile on her face, and a very strong sexy smell coming out of her obviously soaked panties. Her nipples were very hard and erect and showing through her see-thru white tee shirt. I instantly started to get hard again.  Partly because I was still feeling my daughters pussy contract around my cock and partly because I was looking at another gorgeous and horny teenage girl rubbing her clitty in front of me.

She walks over and starts to massage my daughter’s nipples and breasts as she starts to kiss her on her mouth and cheeks and neck.  She then moves over to her nipples and starts to suckle on them and knead them and lick them and making them even harder.  “Why don’t you take some rest – its my turn to ride this stud” – my daughter gets off of me.  Shelly gets down on her knees and softly takes my semi hard cock (coated with Maggie’s pussy juices) in her mouth and sucks on it and licks it and sucks my balls in her mouth.  Maggie gets turned on by the site of Shelly sticking her ass out bent and licking and sucking daddy’s cock drenched in her own pussy juices and starts to rub her clitty. “Come here sweetheart sit on daddy’s face and let daddy taste his babygurl’s gorgeous little cunny.”  She squats down on my face and shoves her gorgeous shaved pussy in my face as I am forced to shove my tongue down her cunt.  

I notice Shelly is now stroking and kneading my cock and balls as she has her mouth wrapped around my swelling cock getting fatter, harder and thicker. I look in the mirror on the left side and I see an incredible site of a gorgeous girl squatted down on my face feeding me her pussy cream and equally gorgeous girl with a cute butt sticking out as she sucks on my fat hard cock.  After making my cock hard again and back to its 8” long and 4” thickness, Shelly gets up slides her panties off licks her lips gives me a very naughty smile and asks me “will you fuck me in my pussy now if I bounce up and down your lap?” All I can do was nod.  She gets up, puts her legs on my either side and squats down onto my thick fat swollen cock. As she lowers her tight little cunt onto my thick fat cock I can feel her tight little pussy getting stretched to accommodate daddy’s fat thick huge cock.  She starts to bounce up and down as my balls start to grind against her cunny.

Both girls are facing each other. One sitting on my face feeding me her cunny juices and other fucking my cock by bouncing up and down and grabbing my cock with her pussy lips.  I look in the mirror and notice that both girls are now very close to each other and are kissing each other’s lips and cheeks and touching each other’s breasts. I get even more turned on by watching the two in the mirror. My cock gets harder and harder inside Shelly’s  pussy hole. “I am gonna cum honey its coming …” and soon after I start shooting thick creamy white cum inside Shelly’s tight little pussy – “oh daddy I wanted to taste your cum this time” is what my daughter said.  Shelly gets up off of my lap lays on her back spreads her legs wide and says to my daughter “there is still lots of your dad’s cum right in my pussy, come and get it.  The next site pretty much made my balls explode. My daughter gets off of my face, bending over she licks and sucks my cum coated cock and balls and continues to slide down even more until she reaches Shelly’s pussy spread wide. I saw my daughter slide her tongue inside her pussy and start to lick suck and taste daddy’s cum in Shelly’s pussy hole. I cannot believe how horny my daughter was for a pussy and how gorgeous she looked licking and sucking on a horny young girl’s pussy.  I could not take it anymore watching my daughter’s gorgeous butt sticking out in front of me and wiggling.

I was hard again.  I got up positioned myself behind her, spread her legs wider and shoved my fat cock all the way deep down inside of your gorgeous pussy. She screamed and whimpered but it got muffled as her face was buried in Shelly’s cunt.  I grabbed on to her waist and butt cheeks and started to pound my cock deep in and out of her tight little pussy slapping my balls against her clitty. I fucked her hard and pounded my big fat hard daddy-cock harder and harder inside her pussy forcing her tongue to go deeper in Shelly’s cunt.  I looked down and watched her puckered anus open and close with every hard thrust of my cock. I slid a finger in her anus and she screamed whimpered and bucked making me shoot another load of hot cum down her pussy.  I let some of my cum drip down her pussy and thighs.  I pulled out and crashed on the bed with two gorgeous sexy naughty girls on my either side.



Father's Day Campus Visit Ch. 3



I dozed off right away. Jenny in my arms. Her head resting on my hairy chest. 4 hours later I woke up to find Jenny still in my arms her eyes starring at me and she has a smile on her face to die for. “Shelly took off dad – she had a study group for the rest of the day” I smiled “did you like fucking and getting fucked by shelly sweetie” and all I got was a naughty nod from her biting her lower lips. “But daddy I’d rather have this monster cock to play with every day” as she said that her hands slid under the sheets and she started to cup my shaved balls and stroke my semi hard cock. “Honey we better get some breakfast-I need some energy” all we could do was smile and close our eyes. My hand caressing her soft hair and sliding down to massaging her butt and her hand just resting on my fat cock.

We woke up half an hour later and after breakfast and some grocery shopping came back to her place. Jenny was looking rather sexy with her short blue sweat shorts clinging to her rather round tight and sweet gorgeous ass. Her light blue thongs showing from the top of her shorts when she would bend over or lift her hands up high because her tee shirt was very short – making her incredible large sexy breasts stick out – with nipples hard and showing. I could not resist several times while we were out to kiss her on her lips and grab her butt. “Daddy not in public – you are going to make me wet and then I am going to have to take you right here – hehehee” 

We got home and were so hot for each other that we went right to the bedroom.  We undressed each other and got completely naked. I admired her gorgeous body touched her all over and caressed every inch of her body touching her soft body with my hands fingers toes chest and hardening cock. Her hands were roaming all over my body and every chance she would get she would grab my butt.

I got on the bed on my back and got on top of me – kissed me on the lips and started rubbing her pussy against my fat cock. I looked her in the eyes and said, “honey turn around” we both smiled and she swung around. I was starring at the most gorgeous teenage pussy in the world and starting to feel a rather wet and warm mouth around my cock. I spread her pussy lips wider opened her pussy saw that she was already creaming and slid my tongue inside her tight little pussy hole – wet and sweet I could suck and lick her clitty and fuck her pussy with my tongue or suck on her puffy pussy lips making them puffier and wetter. She was cumming like a waterfall. Drenching my face with her babygurl’s juices. At the same time the feeling of her warm wet mouth around my cock and her soft hands cupping my balls and massaging them or sometimes sucking my balls in her mouth drove me nuts. She knew when I was close to cumming and she would stop and blow warm hair on it from her mouth to stop me from cumming.

I was about to shove my tongue deep inside her pussy one more time and spread her butt cheeks so I can poke a finger up her anus – I heard “what the fuck is going on here” We both jumped and looked towards the door to find my wife- her mother standing there with her mouth half open. “Just what in the fucking world do you two think you are doing?” Mark, you are just …. Jenny you are such a slut for fucking your father ….. “. She got angrier with us cause we had a sharp smile on her faces – then finally after mumbling a few crazy words she realized why we were not scared or afraid of the fact that we got caught fucking. She was standing by the doorway – wearing light blue dress that came down to her knees she had her front two top buttons open flustered look on her face and she had one hand between her legs rubbing her crotch and other hand slowly reaching for her breasts after dropping her handbag.  I don’t know what came over me – all I said was “oh honey just get naked and come taste your daughter’s sweet pussy it tastes just like your sweet gorgeous cunt”  “yeah mom come fuck my pussy mom – let me taste your sweet pussy too – see what dad brags about “ My wife, as if under a spell, sheds her clothing and walks over to us. Jenny gets off of me and pushes me over so she can lay on her back next to me – My wife has a glazed look on her face and licking her lips – she gets down on her hands and knees in front of her daughter between her legs spreads them wide exposes her pussy with her two hands and sticks out a long wet tongue to slide over her daughter’s hard pink clitty – sending jenny into trembles and screams of cum. Jenny tries to find something to hold onto but all she can get her hands on is her dad’s fat hard cock. She grabs onto my fat prick and starts to stroke it and massage it and cup my balls again as her mother clearly starts to eat her cunt sucking her pussy lips licking her clitty shoving her tongue down her wet pussy hole- I said to my wife “honey poke her anus she likes her ass poked while getting fucked – just like you” my wife looks up into jenny’s eyes gives her the naughtiest smile I have ever seen on a girl and spreads her ass cheeks by sliding her hands under her. Her face disappears into jenny’s pussy hole and cunt licking action while she starts to probe jenny’s anus with her sweet long fingers. 

Daddy come closer bring your cock over here – as I move closer on my knees jenny so sweetly and gently holds my balls in her soft hands and brings my fat cock to her mouth and starts to suck and lick my balls and my cock. My wife looks up for a few second to watch my cock go in and out of jenny’s soft mouth “you like sucking daddys fat cock don’t you you little slut” “ you like having your pussy licked and your butt fucked by your mommy uh sweetie? “  And all jenny could do is nod her head her mouth pack with daddys huge fat cock and her cunt being eaten and sucked on by her gorgeous mother.  I was pinching her nipples that were getting harder and larger. The site of my gorgeous wife sucking and eating my equally gorgeous daughter was an incredible site in the world. I could not hold any longer and had to cum. I thought about it for a second and my eyes were locked on my wife’s gorgeous butt spread eagle as she was bent over doggie style to eat my daughter’s cunt.  After dropping some pre-cum in my daughter’s mouth I jumped up and got behind my wife and positioned myself to take her. I slid my cock in her pussy realizing how dripping wet she is already. I had no problem sliding my whole 8-inch long and 4” thick cock in her tight little pussy hole. As I start to pump her cunt her face was getting shoved deeper and deeper into my daughter’s cunt and her tongue was sliding deeper and deeper inside her pussy. I could not resist looking at such a gorgeous puckered ass hole and shoved a finger up her butt. That did it – my wife shoved her finger up my daughter’s anus and sucked on her clitty so hard. She started to wiggle her butt against my finger and my cock so that her clit was rubbing against my hard shaft and my balls were slapping against her pussy. It was so intense that all three of us came at the same time – you could hear nothing but moans and screams and an occasional “fuck oh shit  - oh fuck yes yes” from any one of us.  We all collapsed in one bed on top of each other almost with smiles on our faces. My wife said “so this is what the father’s day weekends are like – I wonder what we can do for the mother’s day weekend” and both jenny and my wife giggled like little gurls. "I came to surprise you guys cause I was so lonely at home alone - and you guys ended up surprising me - I like that" 

We all dozed off with my daughter’s soft hands on her daddys cock and my wife’s head resting on my hairy chest as I scratched her back with my fingernails gently.



Father's Day



As I stand outside her bedroom door in the dark I can hear her gently roll over in bed. Her light has been off for about 3 hours, almost immediately after taking her nightly shower.

There is a faint glow from under the door, a nightlight she has used since she was three. Old habits die hard, at 19 you would think she would be over that.

Checking my watch, I see that it is just 12:01am, June 17 2012. Father's Day, and my gift is just a few feet away.

Let me explain. My step daughter Sara is now a college freshman, learning the ropes, and finally doing better after a disastrous first semester. My wife and I were very happy when she announced that she was coming home for the weekend, starting with dinner out and a movie Friday. We had a really nice time. The Avengers was playing at the local theatre, we all had a good laugh. Dinner was sushi (nice metaphor for what was to come, but more on that later.), something we enjoy just about every Friday. Saturday Sara didn't seem as pleased or happy as she did the night before. My wife and I both chatted her up, turns out she was just upset with herself for not getting me a Father's Day gift. 

'Don't worry sweetie, it's just great to have some time with you' I told her in all sincerity. It was also nice seeing her tight young body in the skimpy outfits girls wear these days. I guess I am not all that good of a step dad........

'Ricky...' she said, using the pet name she had used for me since about age 3 when I came on the scene. 'How about on Father's Day I just do anything for you that you want? Let's make it your special day, you don't have to lift a finger, just tell me what to do... ok?'

I have to confess that I hesitated. Could I really have her at my beck and call for the day?

I had to ask, my wife grabbing my left hand as I did 'Sure sweetie, what did you have in mind? Anything in particular, or just whatever I want?' 

Before she could answer, my wife (bless her) chimed in. 'You heard her honey, anything you want. She's good for her word, aren't you Sara?' I think she realized what she had just committed to by the look she gave me she said my step daughters name.

Sara just nodded and went back to texting as usual, my wife kissing me gently and giving me a deep, probing look.

Later when we were alone, my wife sat me down and said 'you know what this means don't you?'

Assuming that she meant that there were limits, I told her of course I did, and that I wouldn't take undue advantage of her offer (you can imagine how disappointed I was, but oh well!).

'No' my lovely wife said. 'This means that you get to have her do EXACTLY what you want her to do, and I am committed to helping thanks to me opening my big mouth! Let the monster out honey, this is your chance, I won't stop you. In fact, I will live up to my side and help if you need it. Or if you want it' she said, looking coy.

What could I say? I love my wife, now I loved her even more. Our sex life, hot as hell for the first years of our marriage had cooled considerably in the past 3 years, you see my wife is 10 years older than me, now 56 to my 46...... to my step daughters 19.

So there I was, at the start of 'my' day.

Now, let me describe my step daughter. At 19 she is slender. I mean SLENDER. She might weigh 95 pounds, but I doubt it. He has medium long hair, a pierced nose, tongue, 3 piercings in one ear, 2 in the other both with small gauges. She got her first tattoo at 16, a nice music note on her left hip, just above her panty line. She has a couple more now, one on her back, one on her thigh.

Cute as a button, with lovely firm breasts and an ass to die for. She wears this yellow bikini in the summers, when it's wet the bottoms are completely see through so I know she shaves her pussy, at least around her cunt lips. Her nipples are small and tight, with small areolas, just the way I like them. I only know because I can see them every time she leans over. The net effect of the push up bra she wears is to expose her nips just enough!

As I open the door I can just see her left arm outside the light sheet over her body, a slight rise where her breasts are. She is still wearing a camisole or some such garment, with a black bra underneath. Oh well, might be fun removing them, but I was hoping for slightly easier access.

Sitting on the bed wakes her slightly. As I brush the hair away from her eyes she starts, clearly realizing that someone is there. 

'what....' She says, stopping when I put my finger to her lips.

'It's Father's Day sweetie, I am just here to start collecting my present' I whisper, gently kissing her forehead, smelling her clean skin.

'Ricky, it's still the middle of the night, what do you expect me to do...... go away, I will make breakfast in the morning....... I'm tired!' she says, rolling over face down on the bed.

Straddling her I gently run my fingers through her hair, gently massaging her shoulders, kissing her on each one at a time.

'That's ok Sara' I tell her. 'Right now all I want you to do for me is to just lay there.'

'mmmmm' she moans softly as I massage her neck.

Gently sliding her bra straps off her shoulders gets a reaction. She tries to roll over, both her arms coming up from under the sheet.

'What are you doing?' she demands, twisting her face around, glaring at me but unable to move the rest of her body due to the weight I am putting directly on her lower back.

'Taking you up on your offer' my wife says from the doorway. I had not heard her come out of bed, I thought she was asleep.

'Sara, don't you realize what you promised yesterday? Don't you?'

'I didn't mean this' Sara wails, thrashing a bit trying to roll over.

All the while I am still messaging g her now bare shoulders, pushing her bra strap and camisole ever so slightly farther down with each stroke of my hands.

'Get off of me!!!' She yells, bucking and trying to kick me with her feet through the bedding. 

'Now you just hold on young lady!' My wife tells her. 'Stop acting like spoiled little brat! Let your step father have his fun with you today. Do you want us to keep paying for your college? Your fun? The concerts you go to? Do you?'

God bless her!

Sara struggles a bit more, and then clearly gives up. I can feel her body quiver every few minutes, 'my, my' I think. 'She's actually crying!' What a turn on!

As she is more relaxed now, I take advantage and lean forward and pull the sheet off her body and under me. Not the most coordinated of moves, but it finally works and I am now sitting on her tight little ass. The only thing separating my cock from her buns is the thin material of my PJ shorts, and the cute little boy shorts she is wearing.

The camisole easily slides down to her waist exposing the bra strap, unfortunately a sold band, no visible clasp. I guess it unhooks from the front.

Reaching around with both hands under her breasts I can feel her tense up, but she doesn't do anything to stop me as I get my fingers around the clasp between her tits and jiggle it until it releases.

Off it comes, sliding easily over her arms. 

By now she seems resigned. Her tears have stopped, and she is pressing her face into the pillow trying to make it harder, but not impossible for me to fondle her young tits.

All I can do is sit up and enjoy the view. She is so slender and sexy, her tattoo just showing in the half light, her breasts slightly pressed out on either side.

Getting up off her I am able to make her sit up without too much difficulty, with a few twists I get her to kneel on the bed, facing away from me.

As I fondle her tits over her shoulders from behind, she grabs her ankles with each hand, bowing her head in obvious disgust at what I am doing.

By putting one foot on the bed and keeping the other on the floor I can grip her slender body between my crotch and my arms. Forcing her to sit still while I enjoy her smooth skin, firm nipples, and the smell of her body, fresh from deep slumber.

She endures my fondling her breasts for a few minutes, and then moves her hands to her knees, arching her back a bit, her obvious need to stretch working to my advantage. Heck, her nipples are taut, standing out like little periscopes, maybe somewhere deep down she is enjoying this! Seems like all she needs is a helping hand to bring out her inner slut!

As I continue fondling her breasts she tries crossing her arms over them to stop me. Presssing her hands onto her face, then back to her shoulders.

I gently push her forward onto her hands and give her tight little bottom a quick feel. She tries to turn a bit, I easily push her back.

Since she really isn't fighting me I try stepping back, off the bed. She turns and looks at me with the most forlorn expression I have ever seen. 'How can you do this to me Ricky' she says, lightly catching her breath at the end, perhaps still fighting off tears. 'How can you?'

Her feet look cute under her firm ass cheeks. Then she makes a quick dive for the covers, hiding under them with her back to me.

It doesn't take much to rip the sheet off and pull her up by her ankles, keeping her legs together and pushing her onto her back. She immediately raises herself up on her elbows, but can't pull her legs free from my grasp.

With a concerted effort I am able to pull her black shorts up and off of her. She kicks a little as I pull them over her feet, seems like a natural reaction, not resistance.

Now her cute little cunt is on display between her slender legs. Leaning against her forearms as she is pushes her breasts out, making them firmer than usual. Visually stunning! 

As I touch her pussy for the first time, she turns her head away from me, her eyes close, grief and pain clearly evident.

'No Ricky, no please!'

But I am too into this to stop now. After all, this was her idea, wasn't it?

Gently spreading her legs gives me better access to her little gash. Completely shaved, not even a landing strip. Perfect.

She doesn't seem so sad now, smiling briefly as I tickle her pussy lips with my fingers. She is wet despite her aversion.

When I let go of her legs, she rolls onto her side, giving me the opportunity to caress her face, breasts, legs and ass. When I try to push my fingers into her damp cunt she pushes me away 3 or 4 times, before relaxing a bit and letting me probe her depths. Spreading her legs ever so slightly.

Rolling her on her back make it easy for me to kiss her nipples, then work my way down to taste her pussy. As my tongue makes contact she jumps. Startled I think.

'Ricky, no one has ever kissed my.........' she says.

'Kissed your what sweetie?' I taunt. No reply. 'Do you mean your pussy, cutie pie?' I ask. I can just hear her faint grunt of assent.

She tastes good. I mean I love pussy, nothing better. The taste of my little girl was just over the top. Clean and fragrant, but pungent from a few hours' sleep and the exertion of trying to fight me off.

She seems to forget where she is, or who she is with as I continue to lick her cunt, first like an ice cream, bottom to top, then flicking her clit with my tongue. Her lips are long lovely spires of flesh on either side of her pink cunt, the fact that they are a bit large is such a turn on. How nice that she doesn't have one of those pussies with hidden lips, impossible to grasp.

As I lick her cunt I pull her cunt lips apart, and run my face up and down, pushing first my tongue, then my chin, back to my tongue, then my nose as deeply as I can in her young little pussy.

Moaning softly she tenses up and shudders. In spite of herself she cums. Just that quickly. 

Her look is one of ecstasy, then fear as she realizes that she just came after claiming not to want this. Tears begin to roll down her cheeks again, but this time no wracking sobs, just tears of frustration and embarrassment.

I roll her over on her belly again and spread her ass cheeks, licking my finger and probing first her pussy, then her ass. She squirms a bit when I touch her asshole, but doesn't object overly much.

While I play with her little cunt I gently slide off my shorts, leaving us both fully nude. I roll her over again on her back and lay beside her, my right leg over her left. She tries to jump up when she realizes that my cock is bare, but she is easy to hold down. 

Climbing on top of her I gently begin sliding my cock against her wet cunt lips, up and down, pushing my cock head in a millimeter at a time. I hold her legs firmly so that as she tries to twist away I can easily keep her in position. Finally she calms down.

As I slide in about half way she reacts again. She doesn't say anything, just tries to jerk free, then relaxes and puts her hands over her face.

I adjust a bit to improve my angle of attack and push my cock all the way in. She groans and lets out a little sob, but doesn't do anything to stop me, her hands still over her face.

In and out, in and out. She feels so good. Tight, but no virgin. Her little tits jiggling nicely with every thrust. I can't see her face through her hands, but she is lovely. More lovely than at any time in our life together.

I am able to put my full weight on her and grasp her face in my hands, forcing her to let me give her a long deep kiss. Oddly she responds. In spite of herself I suspect!

Changing positions I roll her on her side and start entering her from behind. She covers her face again, clearly embarrassed, but also turned on as her cunt is simply sopping, moisture enough, no lube required.

I pull her hair to make her raise her face so I can nibble on her neck while I thrust for all I am worth.

'oh god' she says. 'Are you wearing a condom?'

'no' I tell her. Sitting up and pushing her into a classic doggy style. She doesn't reply, I think she is to far gone at this point to even care.

Seeing her ass cheeks, her tight little asshole and now slightly gapping pussy is just too much. I grab her hard and jam my cock into her wet cunt as hard as I can. She lets out a slight cry as I pump her young womb full of my cum. It seems to take forever, but the sensations are amazing. Wave after wave of orgasm. The best ever.

Just as I finish cumming, she climaxes again, gasping 'oh god oh god oh go oh god' her face still pressed into the pillow.

We lie there for a few minutes. All I can do is thank her for a lovely start to my Father's Day! At first she relaxes, and then she realizes that I said 'start'. Tensing up, she says 'what do you mean 'start' Rickie, isn't this enough? What more do you expect? Oh god, I can't believe my own step dad just fucked me in my own bed. Why? Why did you do this?'

I had completely forgotten about my wife who helped me out earlier, but right then I heard her start to say something, stop, then start again.

'Sara, while I can't say I approve, you did promise, and I did agree see that you did. I'd say you have a long day ahead of you.

End of Chapter 1