The Problem with Papa Ch. 01

Debra checked in on her father every evening after work. Though he was well-off enough to twenty-four hour care, she liked to see for herself how he was doing. It hadn't been long since his Alzheimer's had gotten bad enough to require constant care. Not that he required it now. He had good periods and bad periods, and these were unpredictably. You couldn't hire someone to watch him only when things got bad. So Debra came by every evening and had supper with her "papa", which gave the caretaker a couple of hours off. Debra knew how difficult it was taking care of her dad full-time; she'd tried doing it herself before realizing she couldn't do it by herself. Her mother had died some years earlier, leaving the two of them alone.

At eighty, Debra's father was still a relatively handsome man, and when she looked at him, she saw him as she remembered him, when growing up.

Debra had been born late; she was forty now. A secretary at a law firm, she was dressed in a business suit that did little to hide her full figure. She was a pleasant-looking brunette who was a little plump, as many women her age were. That came from sitting at a desk eight hours a day; asses have a tendency to spread out a bit. She strongly resembled her mother when Debra was born.

As the front door closed behind the caregiver, Debra turned to her father, who was sitting in his big easy chair, and asked, "Do you want to take a nap before dinner?"

Without speaking, the old man got up from the old chair and shuffled toward the stairs. Taking her father's arm, she led him up the steps. "I can do it," he grumbled, unhooking his arm from her slim one.

Suddenly, Debra felt a swat on her ass. "What?"

"Get up those stairs, you little minx," growled her Papa.

Red suffused Debra's cheeks as she realized her father thought she was her mother!

Debra knew better than to get angry with him. He couldn't help it. "I'm Debra, Papa," she said patiently.

Her father merely grunted in response, and the two continued to his bedroom. Once there, Papa pulled Debra to him and started kissing her. She panicked, slapping him once. "Don't!"

The old man smiled wickedly and said, "You want to play rough, eh?" Debra's father pushed her back onto the bed, and, before she could move, flung himself atop her. Squirming under him, she was pinned by the weight of his body. She felt his erection press against her flat stomach. The feeling made her skin crawl.

"Don't, Papa," she cried out, "it's me, Debra. I'm not mama."

Her plea fell on deaf ears. Her father's hands pawed her breasts as he forced his body between her legs. Pushing with her hips, Debra tried to dislodge her father, but could not. Her skirt rode up her thighs, until the fabric of her father's trousers was pressed against her panties.

By this time Papa had unfastened the top buttons of Debra' s blouse, and pulled aside the fabric. Pushing her bra up over her well-formed breasts, he lowered his head to one and began kissing it. This made Debra struggle even harder.

"Oh, impatient, are we?" her father breathed against her exposed tit, now slick with his saliva. Debra felt one of her father's hands reach down between their bodies, and her father's groin leave hers momentarily as he undid his trousers. Then his hand pulled aside her panties, and his flesh met hers.

Papa gently pinched the fat lips of her pussy and Debra knew he was about to put his cock into her.

"Stop, papa, please," Debra pleaded. She felt one finger probe her opening, preparing the way for her father' s prick. With no other option, she began hitting her father on his back, trying to shock him back to reality.

With his hard, naked cock lying on Debra's stomach, Papa reached up and caught his daughter's hands. Joining them above her head, he held them down with one hand while his other hand took his prick and guided it toward Debra's hole. She felt the soft rubbery head of it brush her full labia -- and then it was in her.

Papa pumped his hips, slowly working his cock deeper and deeper into his daughter' s pussy. Debra gave up fighting him; it was too late -- she was being fucked by her own father! Stopping him now wouldn' t make any difference, wouldn't change the fact that his cock had been buried deep in her.

"Happy now, I see," Papa growled as he began to really fuck Debra. She closed her eyes and relaxed beneath him, accepting her fate. Seeing the change in his daughter, Papa released his grip on her wrists, and settled on top of Debra' s lush body. His mouth went to work on one nipple and then the other as his cock sawed in and out of his daughter's pussy.

Despite her revulsion at what was happening to her, Debra found her body becoming aroused. Each nipple was standing erect like a little tower and her pussy was slickening with woman dew. She spread her legs wide, and wrapped them around her father's hips, justifying this by telling herself that it would be over sooner if she helped her Papa come.

"Fuck me, Papa," Debra said in a low voice, almost as if she didn' t want to hear the words she was saying.

"I love it when you call me 'papa'. You're my little Marie," her father breathed against her neck, calling Debra by her mother's name. His thrusts intensified. He pounded her pussy. Knowing he was going to come soon, Debra thrust up against him. She threw her arms around him, clutched him to her breast. Her legs tightened about his hips, drawing him deeper into her.

Debra felt his body tighten -- then Papa groaned and came inside her. She felt his hot cum shoot up into her pussy. Instinctively, her vaginal muscles tightened, milking the cum from her father's cock as he continued to thrash against her pelvis. Debra moved one hand from her father's back to his head. "It's all right, papa," she cooed gently.

Finally, Papa's body relaxed completely in his daughter's arms.

END of Part 1