A Conversation With Another 'Daddyfucker'

“Can we talk?” Three simple words, yet when uttered between girls, coupled with that girl/girl telepathy of which I’ve spoken before, they convey far more than the sum of their parts. 

And so, we found ourselves in my den, the door locked, and two of Dani’s to-die-for hot chocolates on the table before us. 

“When I was 18…I…..did something.” Well, that narrows it down! From bank robbery to terrorism! “I had sex with someone I shouldn’t have.” Oohh tell me more. “In fact….I initiated sex with someone I shouldn’t have.” 

Already, she seemed lighter in herself. Up to this point I hadn’t said a word. For someone to tell you something, they need space, and sometimes, silence is the best gift you can give them. The time for comment would come later. 

Martha took a deep, deep breath and for a moment her lips, though moving slightly, remained clamped together. This was something big…something right on the tip of her tongue, yet even now, she was wondering whether or not she should speak. “I….I had sex with….my dad.” 

It felt like a bomb going off. Suddenly the tension of years was broken, and this act No-longer had power over her. Someone else now knew. She said it again…easier this time, more freely, and she said it as much to hear herself say it as for me to. “I had sex with my dad….in fact, I initiated it.” 

She took a sip of hot chocolate and her eyes widened in surprise…it really is very good. “From when I was 14, I noticed a change. Dad wouldn’t hug me anymore, and sometimes he would look at me strangely with what seemed like almost sadness or worry in his eyes. Almost like I was someone else…someone he wasn’t sure of. He wouldn’t be around me if I was wearing a bikini, and he asked me to wear more around the house. Sometimes, I’d only have panties on, or maybe bra and panties, but he asked me to wear a dressing gown or something.”

“Then mum got sick….and you know how that turned out.” Indeed I did Pancreatic cancer. Three short weeks from diagnosis to her mum dying. What a bitch of a disease. Silent and symptomless until the very last weeks. “It devastated us both. I kept thinking of that line from Shakespeare “…from my mother’s womb untimely ripped.” I felt the mum was from life untimely ripped! Dad tried to fill the void, but a girl needs her mum, right? When I turned 18, something seemed to change. I felt different. I simply woke up one morning and felt…different. I’d been masturbating since I was 14 and the mornings was always my favourite time. I’d think about boys and kissing and them touching me and that was always enough to get me off nicely, but that morning…I lay in bed, my hand in my panties, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about dad. He must be going crazy without mum. I imagined him masturbating, thinking about her and things they’d done in the past, but then the moment I imagined them having sex, I just couldn’t stop thinking about what if he had sex with me? I imagined him coming into my room, slipping into bed beside me, hugging me from behind and pulling my panties aside and slipping in me. Anna, I came so hard I wet the bed! Well, not ‘wet’ the bed…I’d squirted for the first time, but it felt like peeing.”

More silence, but now an encouraging smile and a nod. 

The thoughts wouldn’t go….I started walking around the house in my bra and panties again. He didn’t say anything, but every time he looked at me, I thought…imagined, maybe….that I saw him getting hard. The thoughts got more heavy-duty. Although I had absolutely no evidence, I imagined him smelling my panties….in fact, instead of putting my used underwear in my hamper, I’d deliberately leave them on the bathroom floor. He would at least have to pick them up, and the thought of him handling my dirty panties used to drive me crazy” 

Almost as crazy as this was driving me. Why didn’t I think of that? My dad handling my dirty panties would have been amazing. 

“So, one morning…very early….I guess it was around 5:00am, I woke up, soaking wet, feeling so horny. At first, I thought I’d wank myself to sleep, but then I decided that wouldn’t be enough. I got up and walked to there….to his room. The door was wide open, and he was asleep…..asleep, but with an obvious boner. I took my panties off and walked into his room and slipped into bed. He spooned up behind me and put his arm round me. It didn’t take much for me to arrange it so he was cupping my tit. I felt his cock nudging my bum and I was totally flooding. Again, all I had to do was open my legs, each between them and ‘aim’ him. I got him to my entrance and just let matters go whatever way they would. I thought he might wake up and be horrified and just pull away with a splutter of apologies. But he didn’t. I felt him push. Just gently at first, then deeper, and firmer and all the time he was slipping further in. I couldn’t stand it so I reached back and put my arm around his waist and pulled while pushing back. Soon he was fully in me and I knew he was awake. He knew I was awake. We were fucking, and we both knew who was fucking whom. Any remaining illusion was shattered when he said “Oh Martha, I’m going to cum.” Those words did it for me, and I came on his cock. There’s nothing better than cumming and while you’re cumming, feeling your partner suddenly start to cum since you is there? He came in me. I guess since then, we have sex about three times a week. I suppose you think I’m awful, right.”

Sitting there, in my soaked panties, I said “I have one question.” Martha said “I bet it’s ‘WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING?’” I stared at her and then smiled before saying “What the fuck…..makes you think you’re the only person who has fucked their dad?” Cue a moments pause before raucous giggling and interspersed ‘You bitch!” 

Again with that telepathy all women seem to have with one another, I knew she was every bit as wet as I was, and, like me, was desperate to masturbate. 

But sometimes, need or not, that’s the wrong thing to do. Oh, I could easily have rubbed one…possibly more than one…out, and she definitely could. Who knows, maybe we’d have got it on with one another, but something about the situation said no…at least not this time. If she discusses it again, maybe I’ll tell her it turned me on so much I had to wank off after she left, and maybe something will come of that, but not this time. 

When Martha left, my hand was between my legs before I’d even fully closed the front door. I came in what felt like seconds. 

As for Martha, whatever prompted what happened at home, good for her. She isn’t the on,y one I know where something happened between dad and daughter. Maybe not the whole route, but even so….