I never planned for it to happen. My daughter, Lena, had just turned twenty-two and was home from college for the summer. She moved back into her old room with that same confident sway in her hips she'd picked up living on her own. I told myself it was just relief at having her close again. But every time she brushed past me in the kitchen wearing those tiny shorts, my cock twitched and I hated myself for it.
The first night it crossed the line, we were alone.
Her mother was on a business trip. Lena had poured us both whiskey after dinner, claiming she was old enough to drink with her dad now. We sat on the couch, the TV flickering, and she curled her legs under her, leaning into me like she used to when she was little. Only now her tits pressed against my arm, full and firm under a thin tank top.
"Dad, you've been staring at me all week," she said, voice low and direct. "Don't pretend you haven't."
I tried to laugh it off, but she put her hand on my thigh, fingers sliding higher until she cupped the growing bulge in my jeans. "Fuck, you're hard already," she whispered. "I knew it."
I should have stopped her. Instead I let her unzip me. Her hand wrapped around my thick cock, stroking slow and firm. "You've got such a big dick, Daddy," she said, eyes locked on mine. "I want to taste it."
She slid down between my knees, pulled my pants open, and took me into her mouth without hesitation. Hot, wet, and greedy. Her tongue swirled around the head while she sucked hard, cheeks hollowing. I groaned and gripped her hair, pushing deeper until I hit the back of her throat. She gagged once, pulled off with spit dripping down her chin, then went right back down, taking me all the way.
"Fuck, Lena," I growled. "You're my daughter."
"And you're my daddy," she answered, voice muffled around my shaft. "Now shut up and let me suck your cock."
She worked me fast and sloppy, saliva running down my balls. I came hard, shooting thick ropes into her mouth. She swallowed every drop, licking me clean before climbing into my lap.
That was the start. Over the next weeks we fucked everywhere. In the shower, her legs wrapped around my waist while hot water pounded us. I slammed into her tight pussy, her tits bouncing against my chest, both of us grunting like animals. "Harder, Daddy, wreck me," she begged, and I did, pounding until she came screaming, pussy clenching and squirting around my cock.
In her bed at night I spread her open and ate her for what felt like hours. Her shaved cunt tasted sweet and I licked her clit until she begged, then tongue-fucked her hole while she ground against my face. When I finally slid inside her she was soaked, taking every inch with a filthy moan. We fucked missionary so I could watch her face, then doggy so I could slap her ass and watch it jiggle while I drove deep.
One afternoon she rode me on the living room floor, reverse cowgirl, bouncing on my dick while I reached around to rub her clit. "Tell me I'm a dirty daughter slut," she demanded.
"You're my dirty daughter slut," I said, voice rough. "Taking Daddy's cock like you were born for it."
She came so hard she collapsed forward, but I kept thrusting up into her, chasing my own orgasm. When I filled her again she stayed on me, letting my cum leak out around my still-hard shaft.
We never talked about stopping. Every day she found new ways to tease me—bending over in front of the fridge, "accidentally" flashing her tits when she walked out of the bathroom, whispering filthy things at breakfast. I fucked her bent over the kitchen counter more times than I can count, one hand over her mouth to muffle the moans while I hammered her from behind.
By the end of the summer she was sleeping in my bed every night. We'd fuck slow and deep in the dark, bodies slick with sweat, or fast and rough when the need hit. She loved when I came inside her, loved feeling my load drip down her thighs afterward. "I want you to own this pussy, Daddy," she'd say, and I did.
It was wrong. It was filthy. And neither of us wanted it to end.
