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1^st Time With Dad

(inc)

 

MontBlanc

 

 

 

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Thanks to my friend Christina who helped me work on this story.

 

 

My mom left my dad when I was about 14, leaving him to do the parenting as I moved from adolescence into adulthood. He did the best he could, but I still got into trouble some. I was a virgin at 15, but I had messed around some with a few boys. The worst time, but what led to the best time, was when daddy caught me sucking my boyfriend on the sofa. I had planned to let Alan come in my mouth. I had licked him before, but always finished with a handjob. We’d never had sex before, just played around a lot. He’d fingered me once. I didn’t come, but it was nice. Now I wanted to try something new. I wanted him to come in my mouth. Dad wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour at the earliest.

 

When he saw what I was doing, he completely freaked, started yelling, I was afraid he’d beat the shit out of Alan, but Alan quickly got up and ran out, pulling his pants up as he went. I started crying almost immediately I was scared to say the least.

 

“Goddamnit, Christie, what were you thinking?”

 

I couldn’t say anything. He was so mad, I couldn’t begin to speak to him. I still hadn’t even buttoned up my blouse. My bra was off, and my breasts were just barely covered as I pulled my shirt closed.

 

“I didn’t.. I wasn’t.. I wasn’t DOING ANYTHING!”

 

We were both yelling now, and I’m sure the neighbors could have heard if they’d been paying any attention.

 

“Not doing anything? What are you talking about. I saw you. You had his… . Damn it, Christie, you were sucking his dick! That’s what you call not doing anything?”

 

My tears had stopped, and I was cold sitting there, skirt half way up my thighs, panties still pulled to the side a little from where Alan had started playing with my pussy. I had never heard my dad say words like this before. I didn’t know what to say.

 

For a few minutes, all I heard was noise, just him yelling, ranting at me, waving his arms and warning me about the dangers of sex, how I was too young, how he should have gotten me a babysitter and on and on and on. I just sat there. I don’t know what made me brave enough to talk back to him, but I did.

 

“Daddy. I like it. I like playing around with Alan. I even liked sucking him. You like sex too Daddy. I know you do, because I saw you with Mom before she left. I watched her suck your dick, did you know that? Watched her swallow it too, once. You guys used to fuck all the time. You think I didn’t know that?”

 

Now it was his turn to sit silently, and that’s what he did. As soon as the words came out of my mouth he sat in the chair across from the sofa and stared. It took him a few minutes before he spoke.

 

“I didn’t know you saw that. We should have been more careful. But honey, we were married. Married people have sex. And, for married people, your mother and I probably had sex more than most. It was the one time we could stand being around each other, but that’s no reason for you to carry on like this. Don’t you know how this can mess up your life?”

 

“Alan may mean well. He may even be perfectly happy doing whatever you guys are doing right now. You’re not having sex yet?”

 

“No, daddy, but if I did, I’d use protection.”

 

Daddy looked at me like I wasn’t getting it. “That’s not the point. You’re a very pretty girl and it’s going to be hard for Alan to resist. He’s going to want more. You know that right?”

 

I knew that Alan would probably fuck me tomorrow if I’d let him, but I figured I could hold out for a little while, at least until he figured out how to give me an orgasm, or go down on me the way I was doing for him.

 

I looked him in the eyes and with the pent up courage I was somehow drawing on, asked him, “When did you have sex the first time?”

 

I might as well have slapped him. And without hearing an answer, I knew. Knew he probably wasn’t much older than me. Maybe the girl was my age. But he did answer me, after a few minutes.

“I was 16. But we didn’t have AIDS then, and I was responsible.”

 

“Daddy! I’m responsible. You didn’t catch me fucking him. You caught me sucking his dick. Big deal! I was giving him a blowjob. Most girls I know gave blowjobs when they were 13.”

 

“Christie, you can’t keep talking like that, it’s, it’s not appropriate.”

 

“What’s the matter Daddy, I shouldn’t say blowjob, or fuck? You did, Mommy did, I heard you both, whispering dirty words to each other. You think I didn’t hear you?”

 

“Christie, stop it!”

 

“Why, dad?”

 

“Why, you want to know why? Because you’re making me uncomfortable. How many women have you seen me with in the year and a half since your mom left, huh?”

 

The answer was of course none. I’d seen him playing with himself some though, and I figured that would be enough relief. It didn’t really turn me on, watching him stroke himself, because he was usually quick and quiet, maybe in the bathroom, or in the bedroom, with the covers up.

 

“None.”

 

“Ok then Christie. You are an attractive woman, and listening to you say things like that, despite the fact that you’re my daughter, is arousing. I want you to stop, because you’re turning me on. Are you happy now?”

 

It was an evening when dumb glazed looks were rampant. The ball was in my court. I. Was. Turning. Daddy. On. Oh. My. God. I was. I could tell now. I could see how his pants were sort of sticking out as he sat there in the chair. My dad, looking at his daughter, listening to her talk dirty, was getting a boner. I laughed, hard, fell over to my right on the sofa and kept laughing. It was hysterical.

 

“I fail to see the humor in this, young lady,” my dad said sternly. But then, within ten seconds, he was joining me, laughing too, literally rolling on the floor. I don’t know what was funny. I think in my mind it was the association of the word boner with my dad. In his mind it was probably the tension of the situation coupled with my ridiculous outburst.

 

We both laughed for a minute or two and then we were lying there, me on the sofa, him on the floor, looking at the ceiling. After a minute or two, I sort of whispered.

 

“It’s perfect you know.”

 

Daddy sort of glanced at me. “What?”

“You want me to be more responsible, right, not get into trouble, not get any diseases, that sort of thing, right?” I asked.

 

“Well, that’s part of it, but I also want you to wait until you’re more mature.”

 

“But you had sex when you were my age? And you need sex now, right?” I asked him, still looking up at the ceiling, afraid to make eye contact.

 

Daddy replied, “My sex life doesn’t enter into this. We’re talking about you.”

 

“Daddy, it can be about both of us. I can have a good partner who will be safe and you can have sex with out all the dating. You can fuck me, Daddy.”

 

He sat up with a shot and for the hundredth time stared open mouthed, this time at me lying on the sofa.

 

“What the hell are you talking about, Christie?”

 

“You said it Daddy, I’m attractive, I was turning you on.”

 

I sat up, this time removing my blouse as I sat up. I had goose bumps on my arms. My nipples were tight. We looked at each other for a moment. He was trying to gauge me, trying to determine how serious I was. I was very serious. Suddenly I wanted him. It had occurred to me before, how he was handsome, how good the muscles of his back looked as he fucked my mom. How his ass moved. But then, it was sort of a “good for them” kind of feeling. I was glad they had good sex. Thought it meant they had a good marriage. This was different. I wanted that sex for me.

 

My dad sat there mesmerized. I stood up from the sofa. Unbuttoned my skirt, let it fall to the floor. Slid my panties down. I was standing there naked in front of him. He was rubbing himself through his pants. I began touching myself, moving my hand over my breasts down to my flat stomach, into my pubic hair. I put my hand between my legs. One place on my body was very warm.

 

“Christie, no. We can’t.”

 

But he stood up. He walked up to me, looking me over the whole time. His pants were sticking out, tented by his erection. I could feel it pushing against me as he took my naked body in his arms.

 

“Oh Daddy”

 

His hands were on my ass, on my back, my neck, in my hair, on my sides, then suddenly between my legs. It felt like for one moment he had ten arms, rubbing me everywhere, and then they all became one hand, touching my clit, rubbing between my lips. All my feelings were between my lips between my legs and the lips on my face where he was crushing me with his own lips. We didn’t kiss so much as tried to swallow each other’s faces. Daddy stood a full head taller than me, so he was bent over, his face to mine. I could feel the stubble on his face, taste him, feel his hands, one touching my pussy, the other holding my body close to his.

 

Then suddenly, I could feel him lifting me, pulling my legs around his waste and he carried me to his bedroom. The bed still unmade, the room I’d seen him in many times, naked, fucking my mother. The room where fifteen years ago, he’d made me. His cock made me, and now his cock would be inside me. I was so wet.

 

It was a good thing he had taken a minute with me, because once we got into the bedroom, he had little patience. He almost threw me to the bed. He was naked in five seconds.

 

The whole time, Daddy kept saying, almost to himself, but loud enough for me to hear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

 

“Daddy, it’s ok, there’s nothing to be sorry for. I want this too.”

 

“I’m sorry, honey. This is your first time, I should be patient, but god, Christie, I need this so bad.”

 

Suddenly, daddy had something to be sorry about. Alan’s cock was a good size, probably between 5 and 6 inches, but Daddy’s was thicker and at least two inches longer, and I had never had any one fuck me, so any size would probably have been a bit too much.

 

“Aaaaaaaagh. Uuuunh.” I bit my lip, closed my eyes tight and breathed through my nose as daddy all at once plunged deep inside me. He was doing it. My daddy was fucking me. I was wet, I was open, but it hurt.

 

“Daaaaaaaa. Yoouuuuu..  Ssssstttoooo…”

 

I never finished the phrase. I don’t think he would have heard me. My legs were spread wide, my knees bent, nearly touching my ears. I know now he was bumping my cervix occasionally. He did not look like my father. He looked like a man possessed. All the muscles in his body taut, flexed, writhing.

 

I opened my eyes and looked down to see where his cock, my daddy’s dick, was plunging in and out of me. The pain, tearing at first, was settling down some, and I began to move back at him. I’m sure there were thoughts going through my mind at the time. But I couldn’t tell you any of them other than “fucking Daddy. Daddy’s fucking me. Fuck me Daddy. Fuck daughter. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

 

He was not articulating well either, but his eyes were wide open the whole time. I kept closing mine, taking in the mixture of pain and pleasure as it moved across the scale from one to the other. Then suddenly he stopped. Just like that, complete stop and he groaned.

It was not a groan from his throat. It seemed to come from his lungs, and even from the walls of the room, from the floor beneath us. I could feel his dick swelling inside me and he looked straight at me and said my name.

 

“Christie.”

 

Then what felt like buckets of sperm shot out of him all at once. I couldn’t believe it. It shot so deep inside me I thought it might come out my nose, my ears. He moaned I screamed, moving against him, taking in his cum. My daddy’s cum. Daddy fucked me. Oh god, I fucked my daddy. The cum shot and shot and shot. I couldn’t count how many times. We hadn’t been in the bed for five minutes. He had only been home for twenty maybe thirty minutes. My daddy’s cock inside me, his cum. The cum that made me inside me. I drifted out, the variations on daddy fuck daughter still rolling around in my brain.