tagIncest/TabooFantasy Father

Fantasy Father

byDream_Operator©

Author's Note: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious and are eighteen years of age or older. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Fantasy Father

Chapter One: A Very Fleeting Thing


Emma was walking down the hallway on her way back to her room when she heard the strange sounds. They were coming from her father's bedroom. It was a woman and she was moaning―moaning loudly and uncontrollably.

Emma pressed her ear against the door. "Harder," the woman pleaded in a desperate voice.

Harder? Emma wondered. Harder―her father must have agreed, because the woman started shouting, "Yes! Yes! Oh God, yes!" over and over, faster and faster, louder and louder.

"Fuck, it feels so good. You're gonna make me cum again," the woman cried out and then suddenly grew silent.

Again? What the fuck?

The only sounds coming from the room now, were the sounds of their bodies slapping together.

"I'm cumming!" the woman finally screamed out. And then, for the first time since she had been listening, Emma heard her father's voice―four loud, animal-like grunts and it was over.

Emma hurried back to her room and shut the door behind her. She flopped down onto her bed and tried to make sense of what she had just heard.

Nothing like this had ever happened when her mother was still living with them. Fighting―yes, she heard lots of that. Sex―no, never. It had been four years since she had left them, and as far as Emma knew her father hadn't been with another woman since―well, since a few minutes ago.

What's gotten into him? she wondered.The thought of her father as a sexual creature had never crossed her mind, now it was criss-crossing every bit of it.

The moans and screams of the woman began echoing in Emma's head as she lied on her bed in the quiet darkness. Somehow her hand had crept down into her white cotton panties and was now gently rubbing her swollen little pussy.

She tried hard, but Emma couldn't suppress the image that was forming in her mind: the woman was on his bed, on her hands and knees. Her father was behind her, fucking her doggy style.

Emma was surprised and more than a little bit embarrassed about how horny she was getting. Try as she might, she couldn't help it―the desire was too strong, the need was too great. She pulled off her panties and rolled over onto her stomach. The middle finger of her left hand slid into her wet pussy from behind.

Her clit was screaming for attention, but its fate, at least for now, was to wait and sweetly suffer. Nothing in her young life had ever made Emma feel like this―so excited, so aroused, so alive. She wasn't ready to let it end, not now, not yet.

"Fuck, it feels so good," the imaginary woman in her father's bedroom said. Fuck, it feels so good, Emma agreed.

She plunged a second finger into her hungry wetness and let out a gasp. In her mind, she was now the one bent over on her father's bed. Her fingers were no longer her fingers, they were her father's hard cock.

In and out, faster and deeper, her father's thickness stretched her tiny little cunt. She had never imagined it could feel so good, she had never imagined any of this.

"You okay, princess?" her fantasy father asked her.

Emma looked back at him over her shoulder. "I'm okay, Daddy. I can take it," she assured him.

"That's my little girl," her fantasy father said. Then he grabbed her slender hips and began to furiously pound his princess's little, pink pussy.

"It feels good, Daddy," Emma called back to him. "Don't stop. I like it. I need it. I want it!"

The siren call of her clit finally became too powerful to resist. Like a magnet to steel, Emma's other hand was drawn down to her shaved mound and gave her aching little button the attention it was craving.

Emma's sexual dam was already overflowing, all it took was the slightest touch on her clit for it to give way and burst. A flood of sexual energy and raw emotion shook her quivering young body. Once again, Emma's head was filled with the sounds of her father grunting as they climaxed together.

*

The next morning her father was sitting at the breakfast table when Emma walked into the kitchen. He had the newspaper in one hand and a bagel with cream cheese in the other. The mystery woman was nowhere to be seen.

Emma poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat down on the opposite side of the table. "Mornin'," she greeted him.

"Mornin'," her father replied.

"Sleep well?" Emma asked, hoping he would reveal some details about what happened last night.

"Yes, I suppose so. And you?" James asked.

"Okay, I guess," said Emma.

"That's good."

"I had the weirdest dream."

"Is that so?" James replied, not looking up from the paper. "What was it about?"

"It's kind of personal," Emma said.

"Oh," James said and took a sip of coffee.

Emma tried to look him directly in the eye but his attention was focused on the day's headlines. "It was a sexual dream," she said. "It was so vivid, like it was really happening."

James was reading the paper as she spoke. "Uh huh," he replied. "That's nice."

"Dad!"

"What?" he said, folding the paper and laying it down on the table.

"You're not listening."

"Yes, I am."

"What did I just say?"

"You said you had a dream last night."

"What kind of dream?"

"Um . . . A weird one?"

"Lucky guess," Emma said. "Why was it weird?"

"You were falling?"

Emma shook her head.

"You were lost?"

"Nope."

"You were being chased?"

"I was being fucked."

"What?" James said, nearly spitting out a mouthful of coffee.

"In my dream I was being fucked by a man―an older man. Do you think that's weird?"

"I don't know," said her father. "I guess not."

"Even if he was quite a bit older."

"How much older? In his twenties? Thirties?"

"Older. He was old enough to be you― er, your age."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Well, it's just a dream" said James. "I don't know if it means anything."

"What if it wasn't?"

"Wasn't what?"

"What if it was real?" Emma asked. "Would you approve?"

"Approve of what?"

"Me being in a relationship like that?"

"You're an adult now, sweetheart," he said. "so it's really none of my business."

"I know that, but how would you feel about it?"

"What is this all about, Emma? Have you met someone?"

"Sort of," she said, looking deep into his eyes.

"Is this something you're actually considering."

"Maybe," Emma confessed. "He doesn't know . . . know how I feel about him."

"Well I guess it depends on the person," her father said. "If he respected you and treated you right, it would be a bit strange, but I would be fine with that, if that's what you wanted."

"Really?" Emma asked, beaming.

"It's just that . . . ."

"What?"

"I don't really understand why someone as old as me would want to date an eighteen year old girl. I could never imagine doing something like that."

"What? No?" she asked, disappointment painted across her face. "Why not?"

"Well, wouldn't it be awkward―meeting her parents and hanging out with her friends? And what if she wanted me to take her to the prom?" James said. "Speaking of which, have you found a date for the prom yet?"

"No, still looking," Emma said. "If I don't find anyone, would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Would you take me?"

"If that's what you wanted," her father said. "You know I would do anything for you, sweetie."

"Really? Anything?" Emma asked, her mind spinning with possibilities. "But I thought you said it would be awkward―going to a prom."

"Not with you, it would be special. I would love to take my princess to the ball."

"Really? You would?"

"Of course, but how would your new boyfriend feel about that?" asked James. "Wouldn't you rather go with him?"

"Um . . . He's not my boyfriend, not yet anyway," Emma said, "not ever probably. Speaking of which, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who is she?"

"Who is who?"

"The woman."

"What woman?"

"The woman you were with last night."

"How do you know about that?"

"Dad, I could hear what you guys were doing."

"Really?" James asked. "You could?"

"Yes."

"I thought we closed the door."

"You did."

"And still?"

Emma nodded.

"Wow," James said. "I guess Beth is a bit vocal."

"A bit vocal?" his daughter said. "Dad, she sounded like a porn star." Emma started to mimic her, "Oh, James, you big stud, fuck me hard with your giant cock. Oh God! Oh God! Pound my tight pussy with that monster cock! Oh God! Oh God! I'm cumming!"

"Really? Beth said that?" James asked. "I don't remember that part."

"Okay, well maybe I embellished it a little," she admitted. "But still, it was loud."

"You watch porn?" her father asked.

"I may have," Emma replied defensively. "Once or twice, for research purposes."

"Look, I'm sorry you had to hear that, Emma. Did it make you feel uncomfortable?"

"Yes. Yes it did, Daddy," she chided him, for a while, she added in her mind and grinned. "So how long have you and this Beth been going out?"

"Not long, that was our first date actually."

"You fucked her on the first date?" an incredulous Emma asked.

"It was mostly her idea," James offered up in defense.

"Mostly?" Emma asked. "What does that mean?"

"I guess it means I didn't exactly play hard to get," he confessed.

Emma scooped up a spoonful of soggy flakes and then put it back down, more interested in details than breakfast foods. "So where did you meet this woman?"

"That's the weird part," James said. "I was cleaning out my spam folder and I saw an email that looked familiar. I thought it was from your Aunt Beth, so I opened it."

"What did it say?"

"It wasn't from your Aunt Beth. It was from a different Beth, my Beth."

Your Beth? Emma bristled at the thought. One date and she's already Your Beth.

James glanced at his watch and continued, "She said that she saw my profile and found me attractive. She thought we had a lot in common."

"She did?" Emma gulped. "Like what?"

"Well, we're both single parents trying to raise an unruly teenager."

"Dad!"

"What? I'm kidding, Emma," James said. "Her son isn't really that unruly."

"That's not funny," Emma said with her saddest pouty-face.

"You know I'm joking, sweetie," her father reassured her. "You're my perfect little angel. The day you were born was the greatest day of my life. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. I don't know what I'll do when you move out."

"Who says I'm ever moving out." Emma said. "Now back to your date, you said she saw your profile?"

"Yes, I thought she was talking about my LinkedIn profile. But no, she said she saw it on an online dating site for single parents. Weird huh?"

"Um . . . yeah." Emma fidgeted in her chair. "How strange."

"I was curious how it got there, so I went and checked out the site."

"You did?" she asked nervously. "What happened?"

"It asked me to type in my email address, which I did. Then it asked me for my password, but I had no idea―"

"Sex me up," Emma said softly.

"What?"

"That's your password: 'sex me up'―all lowercase, no spaces."

"Emma, is there something you want to tell me?"

"Okay, I guess it's cards-on-the-table time. I kinda, sorta signed you up for that site," Emma admitted, and then let out a confessioner's sigh of relief. "It was a couple of months ago. I totally forgot about it."

"Why did you do that?"

"I don't know, Daddy" his daughter said. "It's just that . . . it's been a while since mom left. I thought you might be getting lonely. I was just trying to help. Are you mad at me?"

James thought about it for a moment, then looked over at his well-meaning daughter and grinned. "No, I guess not."

"So how did you guys end up coming back here?"

"Hmm . . . let me think," James said, stroking the grey-flecked, weekend stubble on his chin. "We were finishing dinner at the restaurant when Beth's phone rang. It was her son, Kevin, calling to say that the car battery had died and he wouldn't be able to pick her up.

"Beth asked me if I could give her a lift home. And of course I agreed," her father said and then paused to take a bite of his bagel and a sip of coffee.

An impatient Emma reminded him, "You didn't answer my question."

"What question was that?"

"How you ended up here."

"Oh, that. Right, I was just getting to that part. We got into the car and I was about to ask Beth where she lived when she said, 'Thanks so much for dinner, James. It was delicious.'

"'You're very welcome,' I said to her.

"'But now I think it's time for a little dessert,' she said, and then she leaned over.

"I thought she wanted a kiss, but that's not where her mouth ended up."

"What do mean?" Emma asked. "Where did it end up?"

"She leaned all the way over and undid my my trousers, and . . . well . . . ."

"She sucked your cock?" a shocked Emma asked.

"Yes."

"In the parking lot?"

"Well, yes, that's where it happened."

"I can't believe you let some strange woman give you a blow job in a parking lot. How could you?" Emma asked. "Weren't you afraid of getting caught?

"Yes, no, I don't know, Emma," James said. "That's kinda what made it so exciting. That and . . . ."

"And what?"

"Beth is quite skilled―orally that is."

"So, what happened?"

"What do you think happened?"

"You came?" Emma asked.

"I tried to make it last," her father said. "I really did, but it's been so long, and it felt so good. I couldn't hold back anymore. So, to answer your question, yes, I came―pretty hard. Really hard, actually."

"All over your clothes and the car?" his daughter asked.

"Um . . . no, that wasn't really a problem."

"Why not?"

"Beth likes to swallow. It's a fetish of hers."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure she does, being a porn star and all."

"Actually in porn movies they usually don't . . . nevermind."

"Why does she like it?"

"What?"

"Swallowing."

"Emma, I don't know why. Everybody likes different things. I don't think there's an explanation for it."

"What about you?" she asked her father.

"What about me?"

"Is that your fetish?"

"What?"

"Blowing your load into a girl's mouth?"

"No."

"So, you don't like it then?"

"I didn't say that either. Look, I think we've talked enough about my date. I'm sorry if this upset you, Emma. I thought you said this is what you wanted."

"I want you to be happy, Daddy," she said. "Does this Beth make you happy?"

"She did, but . . . ."

"But what?"

"Happiness can be a very fleeting thing."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I gotta run if I'm going to make my tee time."

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by Anonymous02/12/14

wow

Makes me horny

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