She knew it was silly.
And, if she was really honest, she wasn't as scared of them now as she had been when she was younger. Then she would really cry as she made her way along the corridor to her parents' room, howling even louder if the lightning flashed as she did so, illuminating the house with those eerie, spooky shadows. Just long enough for the monsters to see her, and for Emily to know they were there...
And she would run even faster, bursting open her parents' door. Her dad probably already awake, listening out for her, smiling reassuringly. Then her mom would wake up, bleary eyed and irritable.
Then the usual conversation, how lightning was nothing to be scared of, she was a big girl now, and yes, the thunder was loud but it was just a NOISE, and it couldn't hurt her. And yet, for all the lectures, she would know that in a few minutes she would be tucked up beside Mommy in bed and Dad would kiss her and then wander off to her room to sleep there. She'd often wished it could have been the other way around, just once, and Mom would be the one to go and Dad could stay, but no, it was always Dad.
She admitted that one good thing about that was that she got to sleep on his side of the bed, her head on his pillow, the bed still warm from him, and that lovely, male, reassuring smell. And, for the next few nights, her own bed would smell of him too. She treasured that, and was always wistful when it eventually faded.
But that was all a long time ago, and Emily was much bigger now. An adult, though she didn't always feel like one. But certainly too old to be scared of noisy weather.
But... this was a big old storm. One of the loudest, most intense she could remember. And it was close, hardly any gap between the flash of lightning and the intense, brutal clap of the following thunder.
The lightning flashed once more, and there was the horrible noise again. She gasped.
No, she was too old. She could snuggle back down, maybe pull the blankets over her head -- that would be ok -- and go back to sleep.
Except...
Her mother was away. Her dad was down the corridor, probably lying awake, knowing how much she hated storms. It would almost be kinder to go and see him, let him know she was OK, and then he could sleep. And it would make her feel better to see him, just for a minute.
So -- yes. Better for both of them.
Decision made, she slipped out of bed. Dressing gown, she wondered? It was chilly. But no, she'd zoom down, tell him she was fine, zoom back. She'd be back in her warm bed in two minutes tops.
The rain thudded heavily on the roof as she opened her door and made her way along the corridor. How many storms had there been when she'd done this, she wondered? Ten? Twenty? Hard to keep track. A lot, anyway.
The door to her parents' room was ajar and she pushed it open.
"Hi Emily." Her Dad's voice, a little sleepy, but amused and affectionate. "I thought you might be along."
"Hi Dad. I just came to tell you I'm fine. In case you were worried."
She saw him move slightly in the darkness, just a shape. It was strange to see her mother's side so empty.
"Thanks darling. I'm glad. You go back to bed now. I'll see you in the morning."
"Night Daddy. Love you."
"Love you too."
She turned to go, but then a question came to her. She hadn't realised it was there, but it must have been, lurking just below the surface these last few days.
"Dad?"
"Yes hon?"
"Is Mom... she is coming back, isn't she?"
There was a silence.
"Yes Emily, she's coming back."
"Is she really at Aunt Susie's?"
Another pause. She knew sometimes they lied to her, she understood parents had to do that sometimes, but she really hoped he wouldn't now.
"No, she's not there. She's... I think she's in a hotel. Or maybe staying with Diana."
"You don't KNOW?"
"Sssh! It's fine. We'll sort it out. Husbands and wives... they have these little bumps in the road. You'll find out one day. Now... go back to bed."
"She's going to come back?"
"Yes. Of course she is."
Dad's voice was reassuring, soothing, confident. But it wasn't working. She still felt unsettled. Something was wrong.
I don't want her to come back, she suddenly realised. God, what a bitch I am. I don't want my mother back.
And it was true. The house was a nicer, calmer place without her. Her Dad seemed more relaxed. Even Jester, their cat, seemed even sleepier and lazier than usual. Somehow when Mom was around, everything was that little bit more tense. She had the ability to find fault with anything, or generate drama out of nothing. But she knew her father loved her, and he must miss her.
"OK... well, good night."
"Good night Emily."
"Dad?"
"Yes?" A slightly exasperated tone now, but she never worried about that. Dad hardly ever got cross, and when he did it was like a short, sharp explosion, lasting just a few minutes and then gone, the offender forgiven and everybody friends again. Whereas her mother... her mother could simmer for weeks over things, cold and bitchy until you could hardly bear to be in the same room with her. She wasn't sure her mother ever really forgave anything. It was all filed away, ready to be trotted out and used against you at some point in the future.
"Could I... can I sleep here tonight? It's a big storm."
As if to prove her point the lightning obligingly flashed again. She braced herself for the thunderclap, but still jumped when it arrived.
"You're a bit old for that, Emily."
"Just tonight. It might be the last time. Please, Daddy?"
"Fine. Get in. But don't hog the blankets."
See? He was teasing her. She was forgiven already.
"I won't."
She was glad to slip into her mother's side of the bed. It was strangely unfamiliar, being there, rather than where he was. Different smells, too. More feminine, yet somehow slightly harsh.
The sheets were cold, and she shivered. She wished her father could reach over and cuddle her, just for a minute, but she knew he wouldn't. He was much more careful now with his physical affection these days, ever since her body had changed and ripened. She understood that too, but she missed the bear hugs and the cuddles on his lap and even the piggy back rides from when she'd been really small.
"You warm enough?"
"Mmhmm." She wasn't, but she didn't want him padding off to get her a hot water bottle or an extra blanket. It was nice to feel him so close.
"Sleep well darling."
"You too Daddy. Love you."
"Love you too."
She listened to the rain pour down outside. She could just make out her father's breathing over the sound of it. It was a soothing noise, and she smiled to herself to hear it.
Lucky mom, she thought. To have him there, night after night, smelling so nice, so calming and relaxing and...
...and available to fuck you...
God! Where did that come from? She brought her knees up to her chest and hugged herself, annoyed with that rogue thought. Of course, her parents must fuck. All grown-ups fucked. She, herself, Emily, had indeed... fucked. To be precise, she had fucked with Ricky (meh) and Albie (really pretty good). And had given oral sex to Steve (surprisingly fun, if a little messy and frustratingly one-sided).
... stop fucking thinking about fucking...
Dad's breathing was slow and steady. Was he asleep?
Or was he also thinking about fucking?
... of course he's not fucking thinking about fucking...
She felt the familiar tingle between her legs, and scowled in the darkness. If she'd stayed in her room she could have taken care of that. Now she'd just have to lie awake, feeling horny and frustrated, listening to that damn storm. She could have rummaged in her bedside drawer, behind the bottles of perfume and tubs of make-up, got out her little Rabbit that Lindsey had bought for her, and had a really, good fun session. Just her luck to be here now.
... well, you could sneak back to your room and do it...
No, Dad would wake up. And he'd ask where she was going, and she couldn't exactly say she was going to go back to her room to have a marathon masturbation session, could she? Though actually, she thought he'd probably be cool with that too. OK sweetie, he'd say. Have a nice time. Let me know if you need any new batteries in that Rabbit of yours hidden in your drawer...
Fuck! This was getting worse. Perhaps if she was super-quiet, she could get back to her room without waking him up. The rain was still pretty loud. That would cover some of her noise. But this was an old house with lots of creaks and squeaks, and Dad was always a light sleeper. Probably wouldn't work.
... besides, you're only getting wet because you're in bed with him...
That was not true! She scolded herself severely. Of course it wasn't true! God, her mind could be a real monkey at times. It was like that old mind experiment they used to tell you about -- for the next five minutes, don't think about a pink elephant. And for the next five minutes, that's all you can think about it. Even if you made them blue tigers in your head -- pop! -- they'd be straight back to being pink elephants.
...ok then, for the next five minutes, don't think about being fucked by your Dad...
OK, she was going to HAVE to go back to her room. She was clearly some kind of sick deviant. Even if she had to come up with the lamest explanation, or fall back on that old female favourite, the "tummy ache", she had to get out of there.
...don't think about what his come might taste like...
Right. Going now. Fuck you, evil voice in my head. I could have had a nice, relaxing snooze with my caring, loving, handsome dad, and you've gone and spoilt everything.
... why did you call him handsome? I'll tell you why. Because you want him to fuck you...
No, it's because he IS handsome. All my friends say so. Especially that bitch Lindsey. The way she flirted with him last weekend at the barbeque was just sickening! Poor Dad. Though... he did seem to be enjoying it, in his quiet, amused way. And Lindsey with her fucking low-cut tops and her short skirts and the way she kept finding excuses to touch him, practically saying with her body language that she wanted him to please bend her over, lift up that slutty skirt of hers, and fuck her hard, right there, right now.
... Jealous much? He did seem to like looking at Lindsey's tits, didn't he?...
She scowled again. Yes, he did. Lindsey did have nice tits, that was true. I mean, some might say they were a bit too big, but it wasn't as if she made any effort to make them look smaller or more discreet. Her own tits were surely a much nicer size, around a C cup, just enough to be a handful, not so much as to be a nuisance. Certainly Ricky, Albie and Steve had all seemed pretty damned pleased with getting to see them and play with them and suck on them... mmm, Albie had been good with his mouth.
... I bet Dad is even better with his mouth. And not just on your tits...
Fuck yeah. She squirmed on the bed. That was hot. The idea of her dad's mouth between her legs, his tongue on her, teasing at her clit, perhaps slipping a finger inside her...
God, what was WRONG with her? Get the hell out of there NOW.
"Emily? You OK sweetie?"
"Dad... sorry, I didn't realise you were awake."
"You seem a bit restless. Don't worry about the storm, it'll pass soon. But listen to that rain... it's seriously wet out there."
... it's pretty damn wet in here, Daddy. Come taste my little pussy and see...
"I was thinking... I should probably go back to my room."
"Oh... OK. Sure, if you want too."
"Unless you want me to stay?" Trying to keep her voice low and matter of fact.
"I want you to sleep, honey." He sounded a little wistful. "But... it's kind of nice having you here. Like when we used to go camping."
That was sweet. See? Forget all this sick, pervy stuff. He just wants you to be his little girl for a while longer. It would be mean and selfish to deprive him of that.
"Yes... it is nice, I'll stay then."
"If you want to go back to your room, that's fine. I'll bring you some coffee when I wake up."
"No... I want to stay."
She wriggled around and tried to get herself comfortable, lying with her back to him. She sensed him looking at her in the dark.
"Are you all right Em? You're... in a kind of funny mood."
"I'm fine... I'm just, I don't know."
"Do you want to talk about it? You can tell me anything, you know."
... well Daddy, what's put me in this horny mood is thinking about you fucking me. Though, what I'd really like first is to play with your cock, wrapping my little hands around it, and make you super-hard, and then suck you. Then, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like you to lick my pussy until I can't stand it. I think you'll find I'm pretty wet already, but that would really get my motors running. And then you can slide your lovely dick into me and really fuck me hard until I come and come and come...
"No... I'm OK. Thanks."
"You're not worried about Mom, are you? She'll be back soon, I promise."
... I'm only worried I might not fuck as well as she does. But god, I'm gonna try. You have no idea what a sexy little bitch I can be when I get going, Daddy...
He reached over and put a hand on her head, stroking her hair gently just as he'd done when she was little. That was nice.
"Try and sleep, sweetheart."
No fucking way I'm going to sleep, she thought regretfully. But I'll have to pretend, for his sake. Close my eyes, breathe heavily, keep still. If I can do that for five minutes, he'll fall asleep and I can sneak off.
**
When she woke up a few hours later he was rolled up against her. He must have fallen asleep stroking her hair, as his arm was draped rather awkwardly across her shoulder. His hand was just above her breast. She could feel his breath, those nice, slow, relaxing sounds, just behind her ear.
It was still raining heavily, though the storm seemed to have passed.
Well, she thought. This kind of fucks up my escape plan.
...yeah right. Like you really wanted to escape...
It was something of a dilemma. Much as she loved her dad, and being this close to him, this was not the most comfortable of positions. His arm was surprisingly heavy, and it was digging down into her. She would have to try and move that, at least. But she would try and do it without waking him. Maybe when she did, he would roll away in his sleep, back to his side of the bed. And Emily, the world's worst deviant daughter, could sneak away to her room and fuck herself silly with her small pink vibrator.
Sounded like a plan.
She reached over carefully and took hold of his hand and raised his arm. She started to move it slowly downwards and away from her. He made a deep grumbling noise in his throat and she froze. He shifted slightly and pulled his hand away, still unconscious, and dropped it down back onto her.
... hey that worked out well, Emily Baby. He's groping your tits. Welcome to Slutsville, Deviant County. Population: You.
He wasn't EXACTLY groping her, but... it was beyond dispute that his hand now rested on her breast, the one closest to the bed as she lay on her side. As she lay there, transfixed, he muttered again and moved in a little closer, bringing more of his body into contact with her.
What to do now?
...his hand feels nice there. Admit it...
Yes... yes it did. But it was not helpful. She could feel her nipple hardening under his touch. And her groin, taking its cue from this, tingled again in that familiar, wonderful way.
What she should do, of course, is this: Take his hand firmly away. Roll him back onto his side. If he doesn't wake up, great. See Plan A above -- the Return To Bedroom and Engage With Pink Rabbit scenario. And if he does wake up, just tease him, and tell him he was hogging the bed and snoring, and you are going back to your bed. If he's a little embarrassed, so be it. Much better than him waking up and realising he's squeezing the tits of his teen daughter... while pressing his semi-hard cock into her backside.
She'd only just become aware of this last aspect. She wasn't entirely sure that's what it was, but it seemed likely. The only way to find out would be to push her ass back into him, but that seemed like a bad idea.
Right then. Deep breath.
... oh, come on! Why not enjoy it for a minute more? When are you ever going to get his hands on your boobs again?...
This was true, but she should remember she was a Good Daughter, and not the appalling sicko that her devil whisperer seemed to want her to be.
... the Good Daughter who, when she gets back to her room, and gets out her Pink Rabbit, is going to play with herself thinking about her daddy...
That would be... fine, she told herself. That would be allowed. Everybody has naughty fantasies. And it's not a problem, if that's what they stay. The difference between good people and bad people is that good people don't act on them. There was no way she was going to stay here for one minute longer.
Except...
...except for the fact he was getting harder.
She could feel him pushing against her much more firmly now, a persistent probing at the junction of her legs. No question about it now. That was her father's swelling cock, and only a couple of sheets of thin material, and a few centimetres, separated it from her increasingly wet pussy.
Just. Fucking. Move. Now.
Get. The. Hell. Out. Of. Here.
She moved. But somehow, rather than pushing him away, she eased back a little with her backside, closer to him. She almost gasped at how hard he was. It was like pushing herself against a bar of steel.
... don't be too proud of yourself, sweetie. It's just a guy thing. He's not thinking about you. If he's thinking about anything, he's probably dreaming about coming all over Lindsey's tits...
That was not fair! She thought irritably that if she was going to have a devil voice in her head, it might at least be a bit more supportive. Whose side was it fucking on?
She reached up and touched her father's hand. She meant to lift it off and then roll away, but instead she pressed it down more firmly onto her breast. She could feel her nipple was like a bullet underneath his palm.
She squeezed his hand. "Dad?"
"Mmm." More of a grunt than anything.
"Dad!" Softer, but more urgent.
He grumbled and slowly came awake. He tried to move his hand, but she kept hold of it.
"Emily... what is it? What's the matter?"
"Nothing Dad. You just... rolled over and started cuddling me."
"Oh... I'm sorry." He was becoming a little more aware now. "I'll... go back to my side. Sorry hon."
"No... stay there, Daddy... please."
There. She'd said it. She was officially the sickest, worst daughter in the world. He would snatch his hand away, scuttle over to his side of the bed, switch the light on, look at her in horror...
He didn't move.
"You want me to stay... like this?"
"Yes. Please, Daddy."
They lay like that for a little while. She was still tense, waiting for him to start telling her how wrong it was, how she should get out of his bed, they must never speak of this or do anything like this ever again...
But he didn't.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, Emily?"
"Do you like it too? I mean... cuddling me like this?"
A long silence.
"Yes... I do."
She almost cried with relief.
"I like it too, Dad. I mean... I really like it. You know?".. is that your idea of subtly telling him that he can fuck you if he wants? Christ. That is pathetic...
"Yes... I know, Emily."
There was a silence.
"You think that's wrong, Daddy?"
"I think... I don't know... I think... some girls... maybe a lot of girls... like the idea, deep down, of... being with their dad. It's... a well-known phenomenon. So... you're not alone."
"Yes Dad, I know that. But... the thing is..."
She paused, wondering how to phrase this exactly.
"I'm not like those girls."
"You're not?" Confusion in his voice.
"No. You see... it's not deep down with me. It's... way up."
She felt his breathing change.
"I don't want it to be an idea, Daddy. I want it to be... real."
He was silent. But she thought... no, she definitely felt... his erection push even harder into her.
... My work here is done. No need for Mr Rabbit tonight after all...
"So... what are you saying, Emily?"
Yes. What was she saying? There would be no turning back if she said now what she wanted to say. Nothing would ever be the same. So probably best if she didn't. Probably best if she said she was going back to her room, and they could talk in the morning.
"I'm saying... what I want, more than anything in the world, right now, here, in this bed... is for my Daddy..." She took a deep breath. "... to fuck me."
He gasped at her words. Had he even heard her swear before? The occasional 'shit' or 'goddamit', maybe, but nothing quite as crude or filthy or direct as that.
"Will you do that for me, Daddy?" She hated how nervous her voice sounded.
He didn't answer. Instead he pulled his hand away, and for a horrid second she thought that was it, he was leaving, fleeing. But then he pulled her on top of him as he rolled onto his back, and locked his mouth to hers with a frantic, animal energy.
She groaned, all the anxiety draining from her in an instant to be replaced by pure physical lust. Already she knew this was going to be better than anything she'd ever experienced before. God, she was so wet. But what she wanted first of all, more than anything, was to feel all of his skin against her. She broke from the kiss and raised herself so she could tug her long t-shirt top off, her breasts feeling wonderfully free in the cold night air. Then she pulled off her panties, and straddled him eagerly.
There was just enough light in the room for him to see her and he reached up to cup her in his hands.
"God, Emily, you're beautiful."
"Take your things off, please, Daddy!"
Hastily he pulled his own top off. He reached for his boxers and then hesitated.
"These too?"
She almost laughed. She leaned down and whispered to him, enjoying just how bad she could be now.
"Yes, those too. Otherwise... how are you going to fuck me? And..."
She paused for effect.
"... I want to suck you now. So badly."
She couldn't see his expression but he reached down and pulled down his boxers and slid them off. His cock sprang free. She could hardly believe it was hers to play with. She couldn't see all of it in the gloom, that would have to wait for another time, but she could see it was big and swollen and lovely.
"Oh Daddy," she murmured. "Thank you..."
"Emily... are you sure... before we do anything... maybe we should..."
...OK, that kind of talk needed to be stopped Right Now. No loopholes for you, Daddy...
Even as he was still talking she lowered her head and took him deep into her mouth. She would have liked to have teased him more, but this was almost as good, feeling his body jolt at the shock of her mouth enclosing him.
His voice trailed off and he groaned. She sucked him vigorously for a few more seconds, then slyly bobbed her head back up, his cock glistening faintly with her saliva.
"Sorry Daddy, what were you saying? I was so impatient to get your dick in my mouth. Did you want me to stop?"
She sensed, rather than saw, him gazing at her in the darkness.
"You think about it," she said. "I'll keep sucking your delicious cock until you make up your mind."
And she took him in her mouth again, relishing the taste and the feel of him, the sheer wrongness of what she was doing. Her hand worked away eagerly in tandem with her mouth, and she felt a small dribble of pre-come ooze onto her tongue. She swallowed it eagerly.
"Emily... I'm going to come if you keep up that pace..."
Yes, she thought. That will be fine, Daddy. Fill my mouth. I'll swallow all of it, you just watch. But... no. She wanted him inside her first.
Reluctantly she slowed down, making her efforts a more loving, gentle movement. She could feel her wetness beginning to drip down her legs. His cock will slide right in, she thought. So easy... so soon now. In the next few minutes my father will be fucking me.
"Do you like the way my mouth feels, Daddy?"
His voice was a little hoarse. "Yes... it feels wonderful."
Mmm. She'd enjoyed the feeling of sexual power she'd had with her boyfriends, but having her daddy sounding so completely under her spell... that was on a different level altogether.
"You can have it whenever you want. From now on. It's always going to be yours. My mouth and my..."
She paused for effect. "My mouth and my cunt."
"Oh god, Emily... the way you talk... I had no idea..."
"... that I was going to be such a dirty slut for you?"
"That you... could say these things and I'd... like them so much."
"Mmm... I like saying them to you. I like feeling how your cock twitches when I say them, when I have my hand wrapped around it, stroking you, sucking you..."
"I love you, Emily."
"I love you too, Daddy, but don't feel you have to be gentle with me. Sometimes, sure... but I'll be whatever you want. And sometimes I'll want you to fuck me really hard. You think you can do that? Can you give your little girl a really good, hard, fucking?"
"Yes... I can do that..."
She gave his cock a final hard squeeze and then rolled onto her back, once again on her mother's side of the bed. She spread her legs.
"Would you like to taste me before you fuck me, Daddy?"
He didn't need a second invitation. In a single movement he slid down the bed and positioned himself between her legs, his head just above her groin. He reached up a hand and stroked her inner thighs gently, skirting around her pussy lips which were, by now, screaming for attention.
My Dad knows how to tease, she thought, with a mixture of exultation and frustration. He knows how to fucking tease.
All she could think about were his fingers, exploring her, skating over her most intimate areas, but never quite touching where she was desperate to be touched. She could feel his breath on her.
"You like me touching you there, Emily?"
"Yes... I like it..."
"Are you sure?" His voice was slightly mocking, and his touch became even lighter. She could barely feel it now, just the faintest trace of his fingertips.
"Yes... but please, Daddy!"
"Please... what, sweetie?"
God, he was good at this! Those other boys would have been face down on her by now, lapping away like kittens at a saucer of milk, all energy and enthusiasm but no finesse. You're so fucking stupid, Mom, she thought. How could you leave him alone with me? How could you ever leave a man as hot as this?
"Touch me properly, Daddy! With your fingers... or your tongue... something, please!"
"You want me to lick you? Use my tongue?" Those fingers, circling, tormenting.
"Fuck yes, Daddy!"
"Where do you want my tongue? Tell me exactly..."
"Oh god... I want your tongue on my cunt, Daddy! Please! Lick my little cunt... oh god!"
This last gasp was as he lowered his head and covered her with his mouth. She could feel the whole of him covering her with its warmth. Then, she felt his tongue begin to probe her, sliding up her lips, approaching her clit, but so agonisingly slowly.
Her hands had been clenching at the bedsheets but now, almost without thinking, she raised her right hand and pressed it down on the back of his head. She pushed down even as she arched up with her hips, desperate to increase the weight and pressure she felt.
He relented at last and she jolted as she finally felt his tongue caress her clit. The thought of his mouth being there, of what he was doing, the sheer wrongness of it combined with the intense pleasure he was giving her was too much and she came suddenly and unexpectedly, crying out as the first waves swept through her.
"Oh god Daddy! You made me come!"
It was only a small orgasm, still lovely, but she registered a faint sense of disappointment in it being so modest.
But then, even before that thought had barely faded, she came again a second time.
That had never happened before. Once, with Albie, she had come twice in the same wonderful, sweaty, ninety-minute fuckathon they'd had one evening when his parents were away... but they had been over an hour apart. This was just a few seconds later and was so intense and strong she thought for a moment she would faint.
Her legs locked around him involuntarily, locking him into place as her body shook and trembled. Instinctively he knew to stop, lifting his mouth away from her and waiting patiently until she was able to regain control and release him from her grasp.
Oh fuck, she thought, somewhat woozily. Oh fuck... if that's what I'm like with just his tongue, what am I going to be like when he's actually fucking me? I might actually die.
Panting and desperate, she tugged at her father's shoulders. "Daddy... now, please! God, please now!"
He lifted himself up above her. "What is it you want, Emily?"
Fuck Dad, she thought, no, not this again. No more fucking teasing.
"Just fuck me Daddy, please, Jesus!" To her dismay she recognised that was the kind of voice she'd used when she was younger and having one of her (rare) temper tantrums. She hated the way she sounded, so petulant and selfish.
But he didn't seem to mind. She sensed him smiling at her in the darkness. Then she felt him reach down and position his cock at the entrance to her slit.
"God, Emily... you're so wet..."
"Yes, I know, push it in me, now please, I have to have you now... don't tease me any more... please!"
With a sharp intake of breath he pushed down and forwards. She felt his cock surging into her, spreading her, stretching her passage as tight as she could ever remember it feeling. My daddy has a nice big cock, she thought to herself, rather faintly and smugly. And it's in me, right up to his lovely balls.
"Oh Daddy, do you like the way I feel? Am I good for you?"
"Yes baby, you are. You feel... wonderful."
"I'm glad... so glad... fuck me hard, please, I need it really hard now."
He began to slide in and out of her, slowly at first, as if finding his way along an unknown path, but then with increasing confidence and force. She lay there beneath him, almost semi-conscious, aware only of the incredible sensations coming at her from all directions.
The smell of him, the maleness, his sweat. The faint squelching sounds as he advanced and retreated each time and, beyond that, the rain still pattering on the roof and windows. The weight of him, pressing down on the lower half of the body. The occasional grazing of her nipples, so sensitive now, against the hair on his chest. And, more than all of those, that wonderful, relentless, persistent, all-consuming pressure deep inside her as his cock hammered away at her.
"Daddy, I love the way you fuck me."
"God Emily... I can't believe we're doing this..."
"I know... I know... we're so lucky. Whenever you want me, I'm yours. Yes, keep fucking me like that. Harder, Daddy, harder!"
He moaned deep inside himself and redoubled his efforts. Now he was really slamming into her, using her body brutally, just as she'd wanted and needed him to. She knew another orgasm was building inside her, getting ever closer, and even at that early stage she knew it threatened to dwarf the one that preceded it. It frightened her a little.
But she was beyond caring. She encouraged him to even greater efforts, spreading her legs as wide as she could to make it easy for him to pound away with his cock. She ran her hands down his back, pulling him down closer, exulting in the fact that he was hers, he was doing this to her and no-one else, and that very soon now he would gasp and grunt and shoot his warm juices into her.
Oh god. She was close now. She could tell he was too.
"Come in me Daddy. Come in my pussy."
Even in the intensity of the moment, a faint flicker of responsibility still stirred in him.
"Are you... sure...?"
"Yes. It's safe. I promise. And I want it so badly. Come in me... please..."
Thank you, Albie, she thought faintly. Thank god when she and Albie had started getting she'd gone to the doctor and got everything sorted. Not something she'd shared with her parents, of course... though in the end it turned out Albie preferred to come on her tits anyway.
Oh... only a few more seconds now. Her father's rhythm was beginning to change, his breaths sharper. She recognised the signs. And still he kept up that delicious motion, dragging his entire length almost to the very edge of her, the tip grazing her entrance, then almost immediately plunging deep back inside. Over and over and over.
She'd wanted to wait for him but her own final orgasm arrived now, as intense and as deep as anything she'd ever felt. She cried out and wrapped her arms and legs around him, not really aware of what she was doing, feeling only that if she didn't hold him as tight she could she might somehow be washed away with the power of those huge waves running through her.
She felt him judder and jolt and then a deep warmth suddenly spreading inside her, just perceptible through the haze of her own pleasure. He came in me, she thought, my Daddy came in me, and her orgasm, which had been fading, suddenly reinforced itself in a second delightful set of aftershocks that made her want to whimper for sheer physical joy.
"Oh Daddy," she finally managed. "Daddy, I love you so much."
"I love you too," he whispered.
And to her great surprise, she found herself crying. He held her close and kissed her hair, and comforted her, his cock still encased deep within her.
**
By morning the storm clouds had rolled away and the sky, just visible through a gap in the curtains, was blue and clear. She awoke to find him looking down at her and stroking her hair, perhaps wondering if that had been a wonderful, one-off, never to be repeated or discussed performance. For an answer she had rolled him onto his back and taken his cock into her mouth, delighting in the salty and sweet tastes of their dried combined juices. Then, when she had cleaned him thoroughly, she had lowered herself onto him, and they had made love, tenderly and slowly at first, then with increasing ferocity and passion.
Afterwards, as they lay there with their limbs still entwined, still breathing heavily, there was a buzzing noise. His phone was in his jacket, hanging on the back of a chair by the window. She grumbled slightly as he extricated himself from her and padded over to retrieve it.
She stretched herself out, feeling wonderfully decadent and happy. God, she thought dreamily, that was one of the all-time great nights of fucking.
Her father looked at his phone and grimaced slightly.
"What is it?"
He hesitated a moment before answering.
"It's... your mother. She wants to come home."
She nodded slowly as she thought about this for a moment. Then she looked at him slyly, spreading her legs wide so he could clearly see her glistening pussy, still leaking his come out onto the sheets.
She carelessly and slowly ran a hand down between her legs, scooping up some white droplets onto her fingers. Then, very daintily, she licked them clean, one by one, staring at him the whole time.
"Well," she said. "That's up to you... isn't it, Daddy?"