She came home from college for the weekend, twenty-two and still calling him Daddy like it was nothing. He was forty-eight, broad, rough from years of work, and the way he looked at her now was different. No more pretending.
The house was empty. Mom was gone for the night. She walked into the kitchen in a tiny tank top and shorts that barely covered her ass, nipples pushing hard against the fabric. He was at the table, beer in hand, eyes dropping straight to her tits.
"You've been teasing me for months," he said, voice low and direct. "Walking around like that. You know what it does."
She didn't play coy. "Then do something about it, Daddy."
He stood up fast, grabbed her by the hips, and spun her around. Bent her over the kitchen table. Yanked those shorts down to her knees. Her pussy was already wet, glistening. He slapped her ass hard, the sound cracking through the room.
"Fuck, look at this cunt," he growled. He shoved two thick fingers inside her without warning, pumping rough and deep. "Tight little hole. Been wanting to stretch this since you turned eighteen."
She moaned, pushing back on his fingers. "Do it. Fuck your daughter."
He unzipped, pulled out his cock—thick, veined, already leaking. He rubbed the head up and down her slit, smearing her juices, then slammed in balls-deep in one thrust. She cried out, gripping the table edge. He didn't ease up. He fucked her hard, hips slapping against her ass, the table scraping the floor.
"Take Daddy's dick," he grunted, pounding into her. "This is what you wanted. Age gap slut. My own girl bent over and dripping."
She pushed back, meeting every thrust. "Harder. Fill me up. I want your cum inside me."
He reached around, rubbed her clit fast and dirty while he railed her. Her legs shook. She came first, pussy clenching tight around him, juices running down her thighs. He kept going, using her through it, then pulled out and flipped her onto her back on the table.
Legs spread wide, he drove back in. Watched his cock disappear into her over and over.
"Look at you. Taking every inch. Such a filthy little incest whore."
He leaned down, sucked one nipple hard, then the other, biting just enough to make her gasp. His pace turned brutal, short, deep strokes. She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his back.
"Cum in me, Daddy. Breed your daughter."
That pushed him over. He buried himself to the hilt and unloaded, thick pulses of cum flooding her pussy. He stayed inside, grinding through it, making sure it stayed deep.
They didn't stop there. He carried her to the couch, sat down, and had her ride him reverse, watching her ass bounce while she worked his cock again. Later, on her knees in the hallway, she sucked him clean, tasting their mixed cum, gagging when he fucked her throat.
By morning they were in his bed, her on all fours again, his cum leaking out of her while he took her one more time. Slow and nasty this time, but still raw, still direct. No romance. Just two adults who crossed the line and weren't going back.
She left that afternoon sore, marked, and already planning the next visit. He watched her go with a smirk, knowing the secret was theirs now.
