Desperate For Daddy

Posted by: Author: Age: 18 Posted on: 8 comments
4 likes 7085 views Category: Female-Male Tags: father daughter, Hall of Fame

From an early age I realized that I had a rather demanding sexual appetite, I found myself to be as desperately dependent upon physical pleasure as I am upon other needs, like food and sleep. This being the case, I have always relished experimentation, as I prefer to view sexual activities as freeing, healthy, and fun. I don't dwell much on boundaries, as long as everything is safe, consensual, and the situations are understood by both (or all) people involved.


As I've gotten older, however, my already loose boundaries for sexual desire have been pushed further as my libido grows daily. The best part is, I am not easy, and while I am a tease, I don't like to lead people on who I don't intend on carrying out anything with. Sometimes, though, a period of teasing can sweeten the pleasure for everyone. Anticipation makes me quiver, and more eager to please myself, and others. The story I'm going to share with you today is one of my most extreme sexual exploits, and also one which has remained among my most gratifying. In this story, I will tell you how I shared a fantastic and pleasurable time of bonding with my father.

 

I saw my first cock by complete accident when I was much younger than I am currently, at a time when I, in fact, was too young to know fully what it was. What's more, the cock was my father's. I, being careless as little girls are sometimes known to be, had stumbled upon the sight after having had walked into the bathroom to retrieve a doll. Though I was not sure why, I was both ashamed and fascinated as I stood in the doorway, jaw-agape, staring with wide, dark eyes at my father's fully erect, and freshly showered member. Of course after we shared that moment of bewilderment, my daddy covered himself before I had even had time to fully absorb what I had seen. I was quickly distracted however, by how funny I thought he looked with the strange, bulging thing holding his towel forward, like a tent. With one hand, he held down his cock through the towel, and with the other, ushered me out as calmly as he could manage. Later that evening, I was still fixated on that moment. Seeing him that way had awoken something inside of me, something I wouldn't understand for quite some time. For years to come following the incident I craved nothing more than to understand what I had seen, and to understand the way it made me feel. Both, however, took time, and came in slow steps. As I had more experiences, almost all incidental, my curiosity grew; I was thirsty for more. After countless sessions of playing doctor with my older brother (a story for another time) I began to realize something: boys liked me. They liked me in many different ways, some platonic, and some, something more. The boys in my class often flirted and teased me, and one evening I was so upset by it that I came home crying. Always having been a daddy's girl, he was the person to whom I went for comfort. That night as I sat on his lap for a bedtime story, I asked him about the boys in my class. I remember feeling embarrassed and annoyed as he laughed at my question, stroking my then very long, curly hair and kissing my forehead, before explaining that little boys my age sometimes trade little girls when they don't know how else to get their attention. Of course, I didn't believe him. At any rate, I was far too busy pondering, as I often did, how I could manage a way of seeing him in the way I had, years ago. Unfortunately, my wishes would go unfulfilled until earlier this year.



Over the years I had developed quickly, and rather substantially. Like my mother, I am blessed with wide hips, plump thighs, a shapely ass, and full breasts. Although I don't consider my C cup chest to be impressively large, they are well rounded, perky, and topped with delicate, rosy nipples. Despite these prominent assets, however, the rest of my frame is rather slender, something I was extremely self conscious about, until I realized that some find proportions of that ilk to be attractive. And, as I got older, I realized I was not the only one who had taken notice. Before this point I had done my best to tease boys, mostly because they seemed to like it, and I liked it too, but I hadn't fully perfected the art. So, I practised on the man who I loved, trusted, and admittedly, lusted after. When I was 16, my mother and father separated, and from that point on, he and I lived alone together, and I took full advantage of the situation. My father is a tall, thick man with dark hair all over. The better I got at teasing, the more often I was able to catch glimpses of his cock, bulbous in his tightened pants. I went to great lengths to try to make him want me. It was a challenge I had been pursuing for years, and it was also a sexual boundary that I was convinced would bring us both intense pleasure. For example, I would often spend time in my room naked, with the door ajar, hoping he would catch me. Other times, I would bend over in front of him, or sit on his lap. My efforts, however, were nearly fruitless and no matter how often or how vigorously I would rub my clit, trying to banish the temptations, nothing could satisfy the hunger I had.



I had nearly lost hope when suddenly an opportunity arose when I turned 18. In the middle of the night, I woke from a nightmare, one which had legitimately frightened me, and without thinking ran straight for his bedroom. As I opened the door I could not help but gasp at what I saw. My father was laid sprawled out in bed with his laptop beside him, open toward his face. He had one hand groping his balls, which were large, prominent, and attractively coated in the same dark hair that was spread across his chest and stomach. His other hand was furiously pumping up and down his cock, which looked massive, harder than any I had ever seen. His expression morphed from mindless pleasure to shock and embarrassment in seconds, but I could not move from the spot, nor could I remove my eyes from his twitching cock, which was pulsing hands free against his stomach. He apologized profusely, pleading with his eyes for me to leave. But much to his obvious bewilderment, I closed the door behind me and stepped inside. "I had a nightmare. I'm sorry." It was all I could manage to say, and despite the crippling nervousness that shook me with every step I continued to approach him.

We both, at this point were in disbelief. He, in fact, seemed too startled to so much as cover himself, and was still gripping his balls. His cock did not shrink and I sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at the screen of his laptop. I made a terrible joke at that point about the actress looking a bit like mom, trying to lighten the mood. "More like you, I thought" he replied, apparently without thinking because as soon as the words fell from his lips between his shuddering breaths, a look of regretful terror froze his features. That was the point of no return. "Are you going to stop?" I asked, not hiding my hungry stares, now. His face was red as he held his cock beneath one hand, doing his best to hide it, just as he had beneath the towel so long ago. He said nothing. "I don't mind" I said at last, mustering all of my bravery into that sentence, I realized full well the intense sensitivity of this situation. "Stop" he said sternly, but unconvincingly. The vague weakness in his voice set my already soaking, pink, clean shaven pussy, on fire. I leaned toward him slightly, reaching out my hand. I touched his stomach and he didn't stop me. "I do it too." I said, trying my best to use the same sultry attitude I used when facing other men, men who weren't my father. He spoke frankly for a second time "I know." By this point my fingers had reached the base of his cock, and he had moved his hand, looking down at his own cock, and at my hand. He bit his lip, and I knew we both had conflicting feelings. I also knew, however, that he had wanted me. I had seen him look at me in a way I recognized from previous boyfriends. Knowing that was the crutch I needed to make the next move, I began to pump him and his entire body trembled. His hand darted to mine and held it, as if he were about to stop me, but he never did.


I couldn't take it any longer, I stood and stripped, watching his eager eyes race over my body, I could see his hips bucking slightly with instinct, as he covered his cock beneath one hand, rubbing it slightly. This time, I climbed on top of him, letting my pussy press against the hand that covered his bulging hard on. His hand rotated to feel my wetness, examining my slit. He seemed, at that point, to abandon his hesitation. Daddy grabbed my ass and groped it, sometimes slipping a finger in my desperate pussy as he suckled on my tits, which swung just above his face in that position. I moaned loudly, years of fantasizing were finally coming into delicious fruition. After a while of his tongue teasing my erect nipples I rolled off of him and reached over, jacking him off as his hand floundered around my lower body for several seconds before blindly landing on my pussy.

I ground against his desperately working hand, as I squeezed and pumped his huge manhood. The sensation made me curl my toes, arch my back, and gasp desperately. I was in disbelief still, but couldn't dare allow myself to stop. I cried out, again and again. Calling him daddy felt so disgustingly arousing, and I knew he thought so too because each time I said it his fingers plunged deeper inside me and his thumb worked my clit more vigorously. I couldn't help myself. I came, my body convulsed but I did not let go of his hard on, which was slick with precum. He swore loudly and pulled away, getting on his knees. I reached for his cock, and no sooner had I began to stroke did thick ropes of cum erupt from the tip, splattering my tits, face, and shoulders. I gasped and the sensation sent shocks of pleasure through my sensitive pussy. I savoured the feeling for quite some time, allowing myself to recover before I stood unsteadily, and went to the bathroom to clean up. When I came back, my father had put on a pair of boxers. For the rest of the night I worried about what we had done, fearful that I had forced it upon him, or that I had ruined our relationship. However. I was all the more attracted to him, and as time passed, I became more bold with my teasing and discovered that nothing had changed, except that now, we are both very open to each other, and often share the pleasures of masturbation together.

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