I was twenty-two when it finally happened, and I stopped pretending I didn't want my dad's cock buried inside me.
We'd always been close after Mom left, but the tension had been building for years. That summer, with the house empty and the heat thick, I started wearing next to nothing around him. Tiny tank tops that barely covered my tits, shorts so short my ass cheeks hung out. Dad noticed. I caught him staring, his eyes dropping to my hard nipples, his jaw tightening like he was fighting it.
One night after dinner, I didn't bother with clothes at all. I walked into the living room naked, my shaved pussy already wet. Dad was on the couch in just his boxers, beer in hand. He froze when he saw me.
"Jesus, what the fuck are you doing?" he said, but his voice was low and rough, not angry.
I stood in front of him, legs apart so he could see everything. "I'm tired of pretending, Dad. I want you to fuck me. I've wanted it for years."
He stared at my cunt, then at my face. His cock was already pushing hard against his boxers. "You're my daughter. This is wrong."
"Wrong feels good," I said. I dropped to my knees between his legs and yanked his boxers down. His cock sprang free, thick and veined, the head already leaking. I wrapped my hand around it and licked the tip, tasting him. "Fuck, Daddy, you're so hard for me."
He groaned and grabbed my hair. "Suck it then, you dirty girl. Suck your dad's cock."
I took him deep, lips stretching around his shaft, tongue working the underside. I gagged when he hit the back of my throat but kept going, drool running down my chin onto my tits. He thrust up into my mouth, fucking my face while he called me his little slut. I fingered my own pussy, two fingers sliding in easy because I was soaked.
After a few minutes he pulled me off. "Get on the couch. Ass up."
I climbed up, face down, ass high, spreading my legs so he could see my dripping hole. He slapped my ass hard, then lined up and shoved his cock straight into me in one thrust. I cried out, the stretch burning in the best way. He didn't go slow. He fucked me like he hated me, hips slamming against my ass, balls slapping my clit with every stroke.
"Take it," he growled. "Take Daddy's cock in that tight cunt. You've been teasing me for years, you little whore."
"Yes, Daddy, fuck me harder," I moaned into the cushions. He reached around and rubbed my clit while he pounded me, and I came fast, pussy clenching around him, juices running down my thighs. He didn't stop. He flipped me onto my back, hooked my legs over his shoulders, and drove in deeper. I watched his cock disappear into me, shiny with my come.
He lasted longer than I expected, grunting and sweating, telling me how good my pussy felt, how he'd been jerking off thinking about this. When he finally came, he pulled out and shot thick ropes across my stomach and tits, some landing on my lips. I licked it up while he watched.
We didn't stop there. That night turned into weeks. He'd bend me over the kitchen table in the morning, fuck my ass in the shower, make me ride him on the living room floor while I called him Daddy and begged for his load. Sometimes he'd eat my pussy for an hour, tongue deep inside me, then flip me over and rail me until I couldn't walk straight. We both knew it was fucked up, but that only made it hotter. Every time he filled me up, I came harder than the last.
Eventually the summer ended and we had to pretend again around other people. But behind closed doors, nothing changed. I was still his dirty little girl, and he was still the dad who fucked me senseless whenever he wanted. And I wouldn't have it any other way.
