I never meant for it to happen, but once her milk started flowing, everything changed between us. I'm her father, and she's my grown daughter, twenty-two now, living back home after her breakup. The day she told me she was still lactating from the pregnancy she lost, I felt something twist deep inside me. She was embarrassed at first, leaking through her shirts, but I offered to help. That first time she lifted her top and let me latch on, the warm, sweet taste of her breast milk hit my tongue and I knew I was lost.
She moaned softly as I suckled, her fingers threading through my hair. "Daddy, that feels so good," she whispered. I pulled harder, drinking her down, one hand cupping her full breast while the other slid between her thighs. She was already wet. We didn't talk about crossing the line; her body just opened for me. I pushed two fingers inside her while I nursed, and she came with a shudder, milk spilling over my chin.
After that night we stopped pretending. Every evening she'd come to my room, peel off her clothes, and straddle my lap so I could drink from both breasts. Her milk was thick and creamy, tasting faintly of honey. I'd suck one nipple deep while pinching the other, letting the warm streams run down my chest. She'd grind against my cock through my pants, soaking the fabric with her juices. "Suck harder, Daddy," she'd beg. "Empty me."
One afternoon I had her on the kitchen table, legs spread wide. I buried my face between her thighs first, licking her swollen clit until she was dripping, then moved up to her leaking tits. I drank greedily while I unzipped and slid my thick cock into her tight cunt. She cried out, arching so more milk sprayed into my mouth. We fucked slow and deep, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, milk splashing across both of us. I came inside her with a groan, pumping her full while I kept suckling.
We got bolder after that. In the shower she knelt and let me fuck her mouth while milk leaked from her nipples onto the tile. Later she rode me on the couch, guiding my head to her chest so I could nurse as she bounced on my dick. The wet sounds of her pussy taking me mixed with the soft gulps of me swallowing her milk. She came twice before I filled her again.
Some nights she'd wake me up already straddling my face, pressing a dripping nipple to my lips. "Drink, Daddy," she'd say, rocking her hips so her slick folds rubbed my chin. I'd drink until my stomach felt full, then flip her onto her back and slide inside her again. Her cunt was always hot and greedy for me, clenching every time I pulled milk from her breasts.
We never used protection. The risk only made it hotter. She'd whisper filthy things while I nursed: how she wanted me to breed her again, how she wanted my cum mixed with her milk. I'd thrust harder, sucking until her nipples were red and tender, then kiss her so she could taste herself on my tongue.
The last time, she came into my room wearing nothing but a thin nightgown soaked at the chest. She climbed onto the bed and pulled the fabric down, offering both heavy breasts. I took my time, licking and sucking until milk flowed freely, then pushed her onto her stomach and entered her from behind. I reached around to squeeze her tits while I fucked her, milk soaking the sheets beneath us. She came screaming my name, her pussy milking my cock until I emptied deep inside her once more.
We lay tangled afterward, her milk still leaking in slow drops onto my skin. She kissed my forehead and whispered, "I love you, Daddy." I held her close, knowing we'd never stop.
