The Best Erotic Stories.

Poker Game
by Polo

My Daddy .... took me last night. He wasn't the only one. I'm still trembling. I'm still in a bit of shock. It all seems so surreal, like it wasn't really me. But it was. I was savagely fucked by the most important man in my life.

He read my diary. All the conversations I've had with Michael. All the fantasies. I wrote them all down. How was I to know. I was just going to stay with him for the weekend. It was supposed to be a vacation, a few days away from my problems.

Dad had some friends over for poker. His wife went to bed early. It was around 11:00pm. I got tired of watching TV, so I wandered down to the basement, down to the poker game. They were all well on their way to being drunk. I sat in a chair and watched. Dad's friend's kept putting a beer in my hand, one after the other. They had me do shots. After an hour or so, I was out of it.

I remember hearing one of the guys talk about what a "sweet pussy" this new "bitch" he was dating had. The conversation shifted. I remember one of them describe the perfect blow job. I remember looking at my Dad's lips as he spoke, saying "look at my baby. When's the last time any of you saw a piece of ass as pure as that?".

Daddy? Then it happened. I can still see the two men sitting next to me, helping me out of my clothes. I see the others standing in front of me, unzipping their pants and pulling out their thick cocks. I see my Dad sitting, watching.

I remember them kissing me. I remember them sucking on my nipples. I remember them tasting my young pussy. I remember the first cock pressed against my lips. I remember opening my eyes and feeling him grab my hair, forcing his dick into my mouth.

I remember the cum flowing across my tongue, so thick and creamy. I remember not having the chance to wipe it off as another dick was shoved into my mouth. He came minutes later. Then another. Then another. Then another.

When they were done, my face was covered in thick, gooey cum. I remember looking at my Daddy as if to save me. He motioned to the others to leave him. I watched as they scurried up the stairs. Oh, Daddy. Hold me, I thought.

No. That's not what was on his mind. I watched as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick cock. He looked down at me and put it to my lips. "Suck it, you little whore". Nooooo. Ohhhhh. I didn't have a chance to cry. My Daddy fucked my mouth. He pulled it out from time to time, smacking my face with it. "Suck Daddy's cock. That's right", he'd say. "That's my little bitch".

He pulled me up and led me over to the poker table. He forced me face down. I saw him reach in his pocket and pull out a tube of vaseline. As he shoved his fingers in my ass with the lubricant, he said "I saw in that diary of yours what a cock hungry whore you've turned into. Who's this 'Daddy' of yours? Is it me?" I didn't say a word. He asked me again, then he smacked my ass. "Doesn't matter. You'll fuck anyone, won't you?". This wasn't happening, I thought to myself.

With that, he pressed the head of his cock into my ass. Within a matter of minutes, his 9" cock was buried all the way in my ass, balls deep. It hurt, yes, but..... but it also felt....

Oh, Michael. Oh, Daddy. I remember him spanking me as he fucked me. I remember the names he called me. I remember him cuming inside my ass. I remember him zipping up and laughing as the others came down and walked past me, the cum oozing out of my ass. I got dressed and staggered up the stairs.

It's now a day later. I have no idea what to say or do. I only know two things - that I was raped, and that I'm not completely upset with what happened. As I say that, I look to see my hands shake and tremble. How do I make sense of all of it? Oh, Michael...

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