New School, New LifebyMuskratSam©
Part of my father's job is on-campus recruiting, so when it was time for him to spend a week at the university where I was enrolled for the following fall, we decided that I should go with him and familiarize myself with the campus.
We left on a Friday morning to ensure I'd have a full week on campus. We've always been close, and have enough in common to talk easily -- and Dad sure loved to talk -- but as we drove south, Dad was unusually quiet.
Finally I broke the silence: "What's going on, Dad?"
"What do you mean 'nothing'? You haven't gone this long without saying anything in years!"
It took some time to break him down, but finally he admitted, "I think your Mom's planning to leave me."
"What? You're the perfect couple? Why would she leave you?"
Slowly the story came out. They hadn't had sex in years -- which made no sense to me: Dad was still in every way the man I'd always hoped I'd be: tall, dark and athletic, with a ready wit and enough charm to be able to sell refrigerators to Eskimos, while I took after my Mom. I mean, my Mom's gorgeous, but I've often had her friends tell me that from a distance they thought I was her -- and what nineteen year-old boy wants to hear that? I was under five and a half-feet, blond, with small feet and girlish hips. I suppose I didn't help myself by wearing my hair fairly long. Anyway, Dad had done something (he wouldn't say what, but I was guessing he'd had an affair; certainly I'd seen women throw themselves at him) and Mom had been giving him the cold shoulder for two years. Now he was sure that she was just waiting for me to move out to make the break official.
I was stunned -- how could I not have seen this coming? How did they hide it from me? The last two hours of the trip were, if anything, quieter than the first two as I turned it all over in my mind.
At the hotel, we checked in and unloaded the car. I noted that the room had just a single queen-sized bed, but that was no big deal -- we'd shared a bed before. It was getting late and we headed straight to the hotel restaurant. Dad ordered a bottle of wine with dinner, and proceeded to drink all but the one glass I had. From there, we headed next door to the bar, and I nursed a beer as Dad pounded back a couple of jugs of draft, while he moaned about losing the best thing that ever happened to him. Towards the end of the second jug, he started to shift from maudlin to angry.
"She always was a cold-hearted bitch!"
Inwardly, I had to agree -- at least to a degree. Mom was always a little selfish. She didn't have much time for me, and seemed to appreciate Dad more for his pay cheque and his social standing than for himself. Still, Dad had always seemed happy with the way things were, and doted on her.
Anyway, it seemed time to get him out of the bar. I signalled the waitress and she hurried over -- clearly eager to get him out of there before there was any trouble. I signed for the drinks on our room tab and helped him shuffle to the elevator and into our room.
In our room, he promptly reached into his suitcase and pulled out a bottle of whiskey.
"Geez, Dad, haven't you had enough?"
"Shut up, Jamie, your mother's driven me to drink, so I'm going to drink."
"Fine! I'm going to bed." I went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind me. When I came out, wearing only a pair of briefs, Dad was deep in the room's only armchair, with a full tumbler of whiskey in his hand, staring at the TV and muttering to himself.
"'Night Dad," I said, and climbed into the big bed we'd be sharing.
I don't know what time it was when I woke up to see him standing, naked, in the light from the bathroom. One thing was immediately obvious -- he had an enormous erection, easily twice the size of the largest I could manage! I'd been conscious of my inadequacy since the first time I'd changed in the high-school locker room, when larger (in every way) boys made fun of me. Since then, I'd been careful not to actually look at any other guys package, since they were already suggesting I must be gay, so I couldn't be sure, but I figured Dad's cock must be bigger than any of theirs.
He staggered to the bed and pulled down the covers, exposing me.
"I saw you come to bed in just your panties, Rachel."
What? He thinks I'm Mom! I was starting to have a bad feeling, but I have to admit I found the idea strangely exciting, too.
"I remember what that means -- have you forgiven me, then?" He bent over me, with his hand on my hip, and as his face loomed towards me, I tried to push him away.
"Da..." He silenced my protest by mashing his mouth into mine. I felt his tongue thrust between my lips, and even as I struggled to push him off, I felt my cock rising. How could I be feeling this way, with my own father sexually assaulting me? He stank of booze, and his hands were unsteady, but his touch was thrilling me, too.
By now, he'd crawled over me, and was rubbing his cock against my groin as he kissed me hungrily. When I beat feebly against his chest, he took both of my small hands in his meaty left, and pinned them above my head.
Oh my God! I'm about to be raped by my own father!
With his free hand, he reached down to the waistband of my briefs. I writhed beneath him, trying to get free, but his alcohol fogged mind just seemed to think I was as turned on as he was. I tried to scream, but all that came out from between our joined lips was a moan. His hand jerked, and he ripped off my underwear.
I clenched my legs together as he shoved his giant prick between them. I was terrified he'd try to shove that shaft up my ass -- and I suddenly realized that I wanted it, too! But not like this...
Fortunately, he was too drunk to realize that I didn't have a cunt, and that he was only thrusting between my legs. With each push, I felt his cock slide along the base of mine, and over my balls, before finishing pressed up against my asshole. Now, my writhing was ecstasy, and my moaning real.
"Yesssss!" I hissed as he lifted his mouth from mine to give himself more leverage to push into my "pussy". Suddenly, I felt him tense, and the hot spurt of his cum across my balls and ass. Then, exhausted, he collapsed on top of me.
"Men!" I thought. "Only thinking about getting himself off!" When I realized that I was thinking of myself as not being of that gender, I giggled. With a heave, I pushed him off me, and by the time he settled on his back, he was already snoring.
I was lying in a pool of cum, with his seed all over my crotch. I reached down and dragged two fingers across my balls. They came away sticky and wet, and I couldn't resist bringing my hand to my face -- sniffing... tasting... and finally sucking his juices from the fingers. I'd never imagined a man's cum could taste that good! Like most teenage boys, I'm sure, I'd tasted my own. Once. It wasn't something I ever expected to try again. Now, here I was with a serious case of blue balls, desperate to get myself off, and having just discovered that I liked the taste of my father's cum!
I knelt there beside him, reaching down between my legs to catch his cum, massaging it into my own cock as I stroked it, while I stared at the man who had fathered me... taught me... loved me... raped me.
My mind was in a turmoil, but my body knew what it wanted! As I continued to stroke myself, I leaned over him and licked his shining member. Even in its now-flacid state, it was as big as mine -- and I was now so horny, my prick was as big as I'd ever seen it! I felt his shaft stir under my attention, and took it quickly between my lips. I couldn't take much of it in my mouth, but as much as I could I loved that prick as I'd always wanted mine to be loved. Again, it didn't take long before he came. I felt his body tense, then suddenly my mouth was filled with his hot liquid. His climax was echoed by my own, and I shot my own load over my hand and onto his chest and stomach. As far as I could tell, he hadn't woken. I swallowed every last drop of his gift, then cleaned his cock with my tongue.
I climbed off the bed, shook the torn briefs from my leg, and glided to the bathroom. I must have looked like the cat that ate the canary. In the doorway, I looked back at my father -- seeing droplets of my cum reflecting in his chest hairs -- grinned and closed the door behind me.
After a leisurely shower, where I fantasized that the hands roaming across my body and touching my most intimate places belonged to father, I returned to the bedroom. Remembering the big wet spot he'd left where I'd been sleeping, I climbed in on the other side of the bed, and pushed and prodded until Dad rolled into that spot, still unconscious. "He made this bed, he can lie in it!" I thought.
* * *
When I woke again, Dad had rolled over against me. His arm was around me, and his erection was pressing against my ass. I wriggled my butt happily against him, and he responded with a low moan. That was followed by a much louder moan, as the hangover made itself felt. "Oh, oh," I thought. "He's awake, now."
I pushed back against his cock, letting out my own moan.
"Oh, God.... what a night," he said sleepily. Then suddenly: "OH MY GOD! .... ooooohhhhh!" his head rebelled at the volume. Then, more quietly, "what have I done?" He pushed himself away from me.
I rolled over to face him, keeping the distance constant.
"Well, technically, Daddy ... you raped me."
His mouth fell open, "Noooooo. No, Noooh!"
"Yes, Daddy ... but it's OK. I promise I won't tell anybody -- if you do it again." I had hold of his prick by now, and he couldn't retreat any further without stimulating it more. It had started to deflate when he realized he'd fucked his son, but now as I squeezed it gently it was growing again.
"I... I can't! You -- you're my son!"
"What's the problem, Daddy? Is it because I'm your son, or because I'm male?"
He stuttered as I squeezed his cock, again. "Y-Y-You're a guy!"
"So, if I was your daughter, it would be alright?"
"Yesss...NO! That's not what I meant."
"I think it is, Daddy. You thought I was Mommy, last night, so I know you can think of me as a girl. I think you'd love to have a daughter to fuck. Can I be your girl, Daddy?"
I was stroking him now, and his resistance was shrinking as fast as his dick was growing.
"Ooohhhhh. God forgive me, yess!"
"Thank you, Daddy. Let me take care of this for you, and then you'll have to do some shopping for me."
I slid down in the bed, until his crotch was staring me in the eye.
"Mmmm!" I used both hands, and my tongue to massage his cock and balls. Licking up the length of the shaft, I cleaned the seeping precum from the head. With lips wide, I let my mouth slide over the tip of the shaft.
"Ohhhh...baby!" Daddy moaned. He stroked my hair as I sucked in more of his length.
I couldn't believe that less than half a day before, I'd never even imagined doing something like this, and now I was loving it. I let the head slip out of my mouth again, and licked back down the full length of his immense tool, tasting the changes from the tip, with its salty-sweet precum, towards his slightly sweaty balls, with a hint of old semen -- must have missed a few drops last night! -- and even further back towards his anus where it was earthy and musky. It was all so fascinating -- I loved the scents, the flavors, the appearance and even the texture of his wrinkly, hairy balls. I took each testicle into my mouth, sucking and rolling my tongue around it as I stroked his prick with two hands. Finally, I released his nuts, and slobbered my way back up his pole, opening wide as Daddy forcefully pushed me down on him.
"Oh, yeah, sweetheart! Swallow it baby!"
I bobbed up and down on his rod, swallowing as much as I could: well, more actually, as Daddy pushed on the back of my head to make me take more than I wanted. I gagged a bit, but he didn't force me too much. I reached between my legs to take care of myself, and received a hard slap on my back!
"Owwww!" I screamed around his cock.
"Don't you dare touch yourself. From now on, you cum when I tell you to, OK."
"Yerrr, Drrdddy" I muttered through the sausage in my mouth. I planted my hands on his thighs, and redoubled my efforts, staring up into his excited face.
"I'm coming Jamie! Take my cum! Nggh!"
I felt his cock stiffen even more, then he spurted into the back of my throat. I choked briefly, but with his right hand wrapped in my hair, he pulled my face away from him and sent two more spurts across my face, then thrust back between my lips to finish.
I cleaned him off, and he scraped a finger through the cum on my cheek, then wiped the finger on my lip. I opened wide, and licked it clean.
"Thank you, Daddy."
"You're a good girl, Jamie. Man, I haven't had a blow job that good since Rachel was your age..."
We lay like that for a few minutes, then I told him: "OK, Daddy, you need to do some shopping, and I need to shave -- a lot. Get dressed and find a drug store. I need some hair remover, a pair of tweezers, and don't forget a personal lubricant. Bring that back here, so I can get ready, then I need some clothes. Have you shopped for clothes for Mommy?"
"Good, I should be the same size. I just need one pair of panties, a bra, a nice pair of strappy sandals, and a dress. Just get anything you'd like to see me in. None of it's terribly important -- because once I'm dressed, you're taking me shopping!"
"Do you want your girl to look good?"
"Do you want to see me in the same clothes all week?"
He perked up a bit. "I don't actually want to see you in a lot of clothes at all..."
"Daddy, we have to go out to eat, and I have to see the campus -- and I'm going dressed all week!"
"OK, baby. Deal."
He climbed groggily out of bed. "Ohhh! My head..."
"That'll teach you -- but if you get to the drugstore quickly, you can get something for your head, too."
* * *
By the time Daddy came back from the drugstore, I was sitting on the side of the bath tub, almost finished a once-over with an electric shaver. He handed me a bag, and I immediately noticed a vinyl case.
"I told the girl I was going to let my teenage daughter use makeup for the first time, and asked if they had a suitable makeup kit -- of course, given the intended users, it's probably a little on the conservative side, but it should have the basics, and it even has a little book of tips. I'm guessing you haven't tried putting on makeup before."
"Thanks, Daddy, you're a sweetie. Now, get out of here while I try to make myself beautiful."
He left again, and I started to cover myself with the hair removal cream. The instructions said that had to stay on for fifteen minutes, so I read the booklet from the makeup kit.Since about the only place that wasn't covered in the cream was the soles of my feet, I read standing up. I'd pretty much finished the booklet when I was ready to rinse off the cream. This all sounded too easy!
I showered, dried, and used the hotel's entire little bottle of moisturizer. One more item for the shopping list. I'm very blonde, which was good and bad: if I missed any hairs, it wouldn't be noticeable, but apparently it would be pretty easy to overdo the makeup. I wanted to look like a girl, not a guy in drag. So I started with the tweezers on my eyebrows. Just a little to clean up the rough edges.
"Ouch!" Why on Earth would women do that to themselves? I could see why the booklet said I needed to do this first. If I'd put on mascara, it would be running already. Especially since I doubted this was particularly good quality makeup. Oh, well, I'd started now...
I was nowhere near finished the eyebrows when Daddy knocked on the bathroom door.
"You can't come in! Did you get everything?"
"Sure did, honey."
"OK, leave everything there, and go and get some breakfast. I'll text you when you can come back."
"Absolutely. You are not going to see me 'til I'm good and ready!"
"OK, baby, but you know I'll love you anyway."
"There's only one way I want you to love me right now, Daddy, and I don't want you to be able to help yourself! Now, get out of here!"
"OK, OK. I'm going."
I heard the door close and peeked out of the bathroom. There were only two bags. He'd found an American Apparel store for the clothes -- not a bad choice for a girl my age, I guess. The other bag contained a shoe box.
I looked in the clothing bag. There was a scrappy bit of fabric that I guessed was a thong, in light blue, and a matching lacy bra, and a stretchy dress in a darker blue. Should lingerie match or contrast? God, I had a lot to learn about dressing. I guessed if Daddy occasionally bought clothes for Mom, then he probably actually knew more about this stuff than I did. I wasn't even sure whether I should dress before doing my makeup or after. I finally decided that I probably needed to be able to see the clothes in the mirror to make sure I didn't create a disaster. Though come to think of it, I wasn't sure I'd know if I had created a disaster! Anyway, I couldn't stand the suspense another minute -- I wanted to try on the clothes!
I started to slide a leg into the thong when I realized I'd made a tactical error. There was no way that patch of cloth was going to cover even my little boner. I know Daddy had forbidden me to get myself off, but I needed to deflate my cock before I could dress. What he didn't know, couldn't hurt me... and maybe... I could tell him and get a spanking. That thought was enough to get me started and it wasn't long before I shot off into the toilet. I wiped myself off with a wash cloth, and pulled on the panties. I tucked my now-shrunken clitty between my legs, and snugged up the thong. That seemed to provide adequate support, and hopefully with it tucked back like that, it wouldn't rise again.
I turned my attention to the bra. I put my arms through the straps, and tried to reach behind me to fasten it. Fuck! That wasn't going well. I could barely manage to get hold of the two ends of the back strap, and I wasn't coming even close to connecting the two! "How do women do this stuff?"I thought.
Finally, I remembered the first girl I ever got out of her bra (one of the two...), and how she'd put it back on. I took it off, and fastened it backwards around my waist, then turned it and pulled the straps over my arms. Wow! I was pretty impressed, if I did say so myself. I looked... girly.
My hands shook as I tried to get the dress out of the bag, and shaken out. "How does it go on? No zippers, no buttons. Good." There was a label in the neck, so that's the back. I slipped it over my head, and wriggled my arms into the sleeves, then pulled the form-fitting fabric down over the bra, my waist, my hips, and snugged it down as far as it would go. "Christ! It's barely past my hips!"
But I looked up into the mirror, and my jaw dropped. "Fuck...yes! I like her!" I thought to myself. I was no broad -- I was almost flat-chested, but there was a little swelling beneath my bra, and my legs looked pretty hot in this oh-so-short dress. The sleeves were full-length, and the neckline was not intended to show off any cleavage. "Smooth, Daddy! Draw the eyes to my legs, and who'll notice my chest."
I couldn't stand it any more, I had to try on the sandals. I fumbled open the shoebox, and was thrilled to see that they weren't the flat sandals I'd really intended him to buy. Suede, with a three inch wedge. Three straps at the front, two around my ankle. They were beautiful! I fumbled with the straps as I put them on my feet.
I stood shakily and looked in the mirror again. Christ! I was showing my butt! I hastily pulled the hem of the dress back down. The dress clung to me everywhere, but with the sandals pushing me up onto my toes, my legs were the first, and possibly last, thing many people would notice.