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Subject: Title story: "A Gift for My Dad" Author: Incestor 51399322
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Date: Sat, 13 Aug 2005 02:15:30 +0000
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A Gift for My Dad
by DaddysSlutGirl ©
I woke slowly, peering blurily through my tangle of golden curls. Last night's
champagne started to make its presence felt in the form of a killer headache.
Moving slightly, I remembered what had happened and whose body was underneath
me. After a successful graduation ceremony and an evening of fine dining and
dancing, I had made love to my father. It had been a sensual, sexy and beautiful
experience. My father's hard body was supporting me now and his thick cock
rested inside my pussy. I was no longer a virgin. I had given that gift to my
father. He was reluctant to take it from me, horrified at the thought, but
finally came to appreciate the love I felt for him.
I felt him stir beneath my tender breasts and I turned my head to look
into his eyes.
"Morning Dad," gazing into those sparkling emeralds. A mumbled response made its
way through his sensitive lips.
The moment he recalled what had happened last night, I saw his eyes fly even
wider apart and he started to apologize.
"Shhhh. Please Daddy. Don't spoil it. I love you even more now than I ever
have before."
With a sigh, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the satin
covered pillow. His hands slid around my waist and glided down over my firm
cheeks. They massaged and fondled me, and I felt his cock stiffen inside of me.
Suddenly, his hands stopped.
"Oh, Beth. I can't do this with you. Please, get up and let me have a shower. We
need to discuss this. Oh, my head!!!"
Groaning, he rolled me over onto the other side of the bed, extracting his
dick from my tight hole with some reluctance but bound by his morals - incest
was wrong.
He staggered into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. I heard
the shower running strong and fast.
I rose from the bed and felt pain between my legs. My pussy was ultra sensitive
and felt sore and battered. But I needed more. I was addicted now, and I craved
my father.
Waiting a little longer, knowing that Dad loved a really hot shower in the
mornings, I opened the bathroom door a sliver and slipped into the steamy,
moist room.
Through the swirling clouds, I could make out his toned form leaning against the
tiled shower wall. The water gushed over his muscled chest and trickled down his
sculpted legs. He looked tired and despondent, his shoulders sagging, his head
hanging to the side.
And I knew just how to cheer him up! I crept noiselessly up to the frosted glass
door of the shower and let myself in. I pressed my body against his, curving my
body around his back and butt. My ...
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