0 comments/ 29008 views/ 7 favorites Drones By: rikkitampa2014 After I finished cuming in my daughter's mouth, and she'd swallowed it, she went about sweetly kissing my wilting penis, and my spent balls. "Thank you, daddy," she said, rolling her naked body upward and nesting her head on my left shoulder. Just like her mother used to do, in happier times. "Remember: no guilt." "No..." Curiously, for the first time, I felt none. I felt an emptiness, of course, both physically and spiritually, but not guilt. Not this time. In fact, my concern was that the bliss of the moment would be interrupted, as was often the case, by another airraid siren. Or by a neighbor's screams from the street below following drone attack. I stroked my daughter's thick brown hair. The other day we'd discovered, again following sex, the first lone strand of grey among the rich golden-brown. Depressing. Brittany was only 26. From her hair I let my hand drift down to the roll of her left hip. The young, firm, bountiful flesh was beautiful to behold. And to touch. With an antsy squirm Britt declared: "I love sucking cock." "TMI..." "No. See...? That's the thing I'm always saying. It's a generational thing. See, to you guys it's a big deal. You and mom. But to my generation it's no bigger deal than kissing." "Some kiss." "No. I mean it, it's not." "Anytime there's an exchange of bodily fluids it's a bigger deal than kissing." "Saliva's a bodily fluid." "You know what I mean." "You're being hypocritical, dad. Is that a siren?" head lifting. We listened. Nothing. Good. Her head plopped back down. "Remember my friend from junior high Justin?" A pause. "Not really." "Anyway, I blew him when I was like 14." "Britt, really, I don't want to hear--" "All my girlfriends were blowing guys in highschool, junior high, college...It was just no big deal. A lot of the guys were blowing guys too," she added. A blissful, sighing silence followed, thankfully. Madness everywhere. The world was turned upsidedown. I brought my hand back up and stroked her hair again. Maybe she'd fall asleep... Another wiggle. One of her ear piercings cut into my chest. "God I'm wet!" "I'm sorry..." "It's not your fault." But it was. I'd cum in her loving mouth rather than her vagina. Not that I would've lasted long enough there to have brought her to orgasm. Had I ever seen my daughter orgasm? Maybe that time in the hot shower, when the apartment was so cold, and she was bent over grasping her ankles? It was hard to tell. We'd talked about it once, early on, Britt and me... "Is that why mom left you?" "You'd have to ask her." (This is humiliating!) "No, I just remember you guys having this fight once, this was like after college when I was living at home again, before the war started, and you guys were having this knockdown-dragout fight and mom screamed something about if your performance in bed didn't improve she was going to have to go outside your marriage? She named some guy. Maybe it was Trey I don't remember." Trey was an old friend of mine I'd caught groping my wife Karla in the kitchen one night. The inevitable followed and they had an affair. A humiliating, open, flaunt-it-in-your-face cuckolding kind of affair. This was years before Karla fell for the Air Force colonel. He soon got transferred to a base on the west coast and Karla went with him, leaving her daughter and me behind. Abruptly. Whether either of them survived the subsequent base bombing I have no idea. At any rate, Britt hasn't heard from her mother since. Not that she wants to... "Remember?" I sighed. "Your mother and I had lots of fights." "But about the sex thing?" "All I can tell you, Britt, is that weird things happen to you as you get older." "But you're not so old." "Old enough." "There are drugs..." "I hate those things. They give me migraines. They work, but..." "Anyway," Britt said that day with a head shake, "I don't care how quick you cum or how hard you get, not that you don't get hard...For me it's all about the intimacy. It's a unique situation." (Incest is unique all right I thought to myself, guiltily.) "You're my dad, I love you and I love having sex with you. It's a special relationship. I don't care what anyone thinks." (I shuddered. Why would anyone think anything? Who knows aside from Britt and me, and possibly her mother, if she's still alive. Has my daughter been telling people she's sleeping with her dad?) Anyway, that was then. Months ago. Now Britt jerked up, our interlude of bliss over. I looked down at the small cut on my chest, which my daughter was pointing across. "Would you open that drawer and hand me my dildo? The black one." I twisted to my right underneath her, uncomfortably, and opened the shallow bedside drawer. At the front was a dayglo-green, translucent jelly dildo. The ebony one, behind it, was much bigger. I managed to grab hold of it. "And the lube? I'm gonna do myself." I handed the dildo and K-Y tube to Britt, who rolled onto her back and, soon enough, went to work. "I had a roommate in college...remember Carrie?" "Not really." There had been so many... "She did herself like every night in the dorm. Used to keep me up at night. Claimed masturbation was the best kind of sex. On the other hand, she wasn't all that attractive--nice set of boobs, though--so she didn't get many dates. I had cunnilingus with her a few times, that was it. You know my opinion on that sort of stuff..." Right. It isn't sex, it's just kissing... I decided not to watch my daughter pleasure herself. It made me feel guilty. Invasive. And yes, I did realize she was doing it right next to me, blatantly. I was tired, weary. I decided to lie on my back next to her, close my eyes and listen to the hum of the big vibrator in her vagina, and feel the faint vibration it transmitted through her flesh into the mattress we shared. And listen to the little pips of satisfaction her lips began to emit. I got a wonderful groove on, just lying there, an innocent bystander so to speak. I think I'd almost drifted off to sleep when the bed jolted under her body and she let out a piercing scream. A single one. "Oh!" she said conclusively, as if sudden comprehension about something had just come to her. "Oh wow. Fuck..." Britt was breathing hard. I watched her beautiful lolling breasts rise and fall. The dildo reappeared. She was holding it tiltingly, glossily above her patch of golden-brown pubic hair. Her Hitler stache as we liked to joke. I had a sudden, overwhelming compulsion. I rolled forward, put my left hand around Britt's and swallowed several inches of the ebony phallus. And tasted the comingle of her juices with the sweetness of the lube as I inhaled the artificial funk of the jellied plastic. Which tickled my throat now after a thrust. Britt's head had lifted off her pillow. Perhaps in disbelief? "You like to suck cock, daddy? Go for it! I love it! Know what mom said to me one day, sort of near the end? That she suspected you were gay. Half-gay I think was her term. Whatever that means. Have you sucked a real guy's cock before?" The question struck me as odd. Real guy? I came up for air. "I've...done lots of things...in my life." "It's OK with me if you have. Like I say...far as I'm concerned it's no different than kissing. Although I guess kissing another guy is pretty gay too..." I dove down on the dildo again. Wasn't about to confess to my daughter that I'd sucked dozens of "real guys'" cocks in my time. Often under the same roof I shared with her and her mother, when neither was around. "Mom also said she came home once from a business trip and caught you wearing a pair of her panties. Or maybe they were mine, I forget. You were in bed asleep or something. Is that true?" I continued to suck, wishing it were real. The dildo. The cock. And connected to a pair of ripe, spermy balls. Britt wasn't the only one who liked to swallow a man's sweet oyster. But this was a mere piece of plastic and enough was enough. I rose up into the sitting position, red-faced for more reasons than one. "Jesus. I'm sorry. Don't know what got into me." "Don't be, daddy. It's all cool. I like all this crazy stuff." Crazy? Is that what she thought of me? Britt, dildo still in hand, hers alone now, rolled onto her left side, revealing her magnificent, fleshy-wide, slightly pocked, white ass. She pointed downwards at it with the black dildo. "Would you do me in the ass, daddy? I love it up the ass." She rolled onto her belly. The vibrator had transferred hands. It was now in mine. "Use some more lube, though," she instructed. "I love anal sex more than I like vaginal. I dated this guy in college for a while--I don't think you ever met him. Mom did, but...anyway he was on the football team, not a starter or anything but...Ow." "Sorry." "No. It's just that it's cold." "I'll be gentle." "Anyway his big thing--we didn't date exactly. He already had a girlfriend, this really hot chick. Cheerleader. Not a cheerleader but one of those sluts they put on the sidelines in sexy outfits. It was just sex I guess, between us. Anyway, his big thing was fucking you up the ass so there was no chance of getting you pregnant, 'cause he didn't like wearing condoms? Y'know? Oh, that's wonderful, daddy..." I was sliding it in and out of her beautiful wide ass now, vibrator humming.Wishing it were my own flesh-and-blood cock. "Oh daddy...So anyway...What was I saying? Oh!" Britt worked her hands beneath her thick body and began fingering herself as I manned the vibrator. I turned the speed up. "Give it to me, daddy." I turned my hand around so that I was holding the dildo pinky-first, instead of thumb and forefinger. I rammed it home. I again wished it were my cock. Or better yet my fist. Sinking deep inside my daughter's spacious rectum. Her scream was so abrupt--so violent--I thought I'd injured her. Punctured her colon. Or an organ. She screamed again. Her body convulsed upwards. Suddenly she was up on her knees. The dildo had popped out. Been squeezed out by her body's paroxysm of pleasure. She screamed bloody murder three additional times. I thought: people in the building will think it's a drone attack. A killer drone's in the building! Up on her knees, my daughter was huffing air like she'd just run a marathon. Or run to a bomb shelter following another attack. Just making it. Slamming the fireproof door behind her back. I watched her belly fat jiggle with each frantic breath. I was still concerned I'd hurt her in some way. I lay my hand gently on her left butt-cheek. Watched saliva dripped from her mouth to the pillow. "You OK? Babe?" "Fine...Yes, oh god...Give me a minute. Thanks...daddy..." I looked from her still-heaving body to the dildo, still in my right hand. Its ebony tip was colored brown. With my daughter's shit from all those deep thrusts. Britt looked around, wiping her mouth. "Oh Jesus, daddy, it's dirty. Here, give it to me, I'll like wash it off..." But I was driven by another compulsion. I couldn't take my eyes off the shit-tipped dildo. It was like a tantalizing cherry atop an icecream sundae. I brought it toward my mouth. My lips parted. I swallowed it. The back of my tongue ran over the dildo tip, cleaning it off. I tasted my daughter's fresh shit. It was sweet. Delicious. "Oh, daddy," Britt purred. She was sitting on her wide butt now, legs drawing up, arms around them, watching me. "That's dirty. I had no idea you were so dirty, daddy. Gawd!..." Britt began fingering herself again while I licked, and triple-licked, her dildo clean. I tossed it aside. Wanted more. Never, ever, had I been forceful with my daughter. In bed or out. But now I grabbed her by the hips and rotated her onto her hands and knees. I got behind her and spread her fleshy white cheeks. I pushed my tongue into her roomy asshole. I wanted more. I licked and tongue-fucked her. I wished her shit would ooze into my mouth like Trey's cum had that time when we had a threesome with Karla, and I put a tongue to her funky vagina as soon as he pulled out. Trey had spanked my cuckold ass while I licked my wife, and drank his delicious nectar... I ate my daughter's ass till I couldn't breathe anymore. I came up for air. Felt like I was drowning. Britt rolled over onto her back and welcomed me on top of her. We kissed. I plunged my tongue into her mouth. Wanted her to taste her own fetid-sweet shit. Our tongues clashed playfully in each other's mouths. As we continued to kiss, passionately, my teeth pressing into my lips, Britt stroked my little semi-hard penis. The source of all my problems. The reason my wife had openly cheated on me. The reason she left me for another man... I came, quickly, in a tiny pool on Britt's belly fat. Pathetic. I rolled off my daughter onto my back. Britt rolled onto her right side and put her head on my chest. We were back, more or less, where we had started. I patted her hip, with a sigh, then worked the fingers of my left hand between the ample flesh of her cheeks. Couldn't quite reach her dilated hole, which I wanted to push my fingers into. I had her shit on my breath. I breathed it and could smell it. It would linger for days, I knew. Wonderful... "Oh daddy," Britt sighed, before sleep eventually took over. We'd been lucky. No outside events had disturbed our special "relationship." I slept too. Dreamed an airraid siren was going off but I couldn't move. I was paralyzed. A heavy weight was on top of me. Concrete? Metal? A crashed drone? I struggled. It was useless. All I could think about was breaking free so I could rescue, or try to rescue, my daughter. Though I didn't know where she was. With her mother? With Trey? Was she...alive? I awoke in a panic. Discovered I was free. Nothing on top of me, after all, not even Britt. She was sleeping peacefully on her belly to my left. I thought--briefly, perversely--since she was in a vulnerable position, about spreading her cheeks and rimming her again. She probably wouldn't mind. But I decided to let her sleep, the darling. The sweetheart. Our apartment building could be bombed tomorrow and she'd be dead. Both of us would be. Let her sleep and dream--I hoped--of a better future. I rolled over onto my left side and--gently--lay my hand on her cheeks. In a better world the black-out curtains would be drawn back and the moonlight streaming in. I could feast my eyes upon my daughter's generous pale flesh. Her own gorgeous half moons. What beauty! As it was, I lay there listening to her breathing. There would be time for other things. For now, however, pure fatherly bliss...