A Return Home Ch. 02

Right, notes. This is the promised part 2 to the first story I published under this title. I took a little more time writing it than the first frenzied iteration, but unfortunately my partner made me jealous so I've shifted gears from the kind of submission that inspired this whole thing to wanting to rebel. Thus! Part 3 might not come for a while.

Still, I do hope you enjoy this part. If you haven't read the first, it'll be useful for some context.

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I only realized my pants were still open when I started taking them off, the buttons and zipper already undone. Immediately, a sense of shame overcame me. I kicked off the pair before leaning on the closet door. My legs were bare now, but I could still feel the building dampness between them.

"Get a grip..." I whispered to myself. I stood up straighter and began taking off my shirt. Unbidden, memories of earlier assaulted me, phantom sensations of palms cupping my breasts. I swallowed, turning to face the mirror in my room.

The floor length reflection showed my half undressed form, arms still midway in pulling the shirt off. My bra was askew from earlier, so I could see the lower portion of the tits hanging from them. I paused, and for a moment, I could feel hands gently tracing their surface. Daddy's touch.

I huffed, quickly throwing the shirt off to the clothing hamper and ignoring the heat in my core.

Something wasn't right. I knew this now. But I just couldn't figure out what. I was horny, and I was horny for my daddy. And that wasn't-

I paused, feeling something slip out of my grasp just then. I stared for a bit before regaining myself with a shake of my head.

Anyways, nothing seemed wrong with that, so that couldn't be it. Maybe it was how he groped me? But that was typical too.

I sighed. These thoughts could wait until after dinner.

As I resolved to turn back to the closet, I caught myself in my mirror's reflection again. I wasn't dressed at all, stripped down only to my panties and displaced bra. Pursing my lips, I reached behind myself and unclipped the garment, breathing a sigh of relief when I felt my tits fall free. My nipples were still pointed from the arousal. It felt almost scandalous if it weren't so natural.

I headed to the closet. Daddy did mention some new clothes he bought. The thought made me smile a bit. That was thoughtful of him, considering I only packed light whenever I came home.

I took the only new article inside and quickly slipped it on before trotting downstairs.

The smell of stew was overpowering, mingling with something else in the air that made me feel lightheaded. I grinned, already anticipating the fulfillment of the meal after a tiring drive. I didn't bother to announce my arrival inside the kitchen, wantonly walking to the countertop so I could see Daddy at work.

He turned towards me once he noticed my presence there. For a bit, he froze. I sent him a wide smile, suddenly feeling the urge to be closer to him. It was overpowering, sweeping me up in a nigh unstoppable wave. Before I knew it, I was already latching onto his arm and nuzzling into his flesh.

I could feel my breasts against him, and it made me all the more aroused. "Hi Daddy." I looked up to meet his gaze, the smile unfailingly affixed onto my expression. "What's for dinner?"

He seemed to regard me with complicated eyes when I said that, glancing between the stew and my body. His throat bobbed once before he spoke. "Looking like that, honey, I'm tempted to take you as an appetizer."

He studied my reaction after he said that, waiting for something. He almost seemed...afraid? It was barely noticeable behind the cloud of lust in his eyes.

I didn't get it. I was just dressed in the new clothes he bought. Did a single cotton shirt look that nice on me? The fabric was a bit thin so I didn't think it looked that flattering, especially with my breasts poking through it. I didn't even have pants on! And my panties were still slightly damp from earlier, not to mention musty from the drive. Still...

All I felt was an indescribable giddiness that made me bury my face into his arm. "Oh you. The stew's gonna get cold, and I'm hungry! I missed your cooking. You can have me for dessert instead. Deal?" I said to him with a cheeky grin.

He swallowed once, the disbelief briefly surfacing on his gaze before sinking into a steady determination. "...deal."

His other hand reached over behind me, cupping my ass for the second time today. I couldn't help but push back against it, liking the way my he squeezed in turn. "Hehe, it's a deal then! Come on, let's eat!"

Soon enough, we parted to sit down at the dining table.

The stew was great as always. The one thing I missed most about home was the food. College meals weren't the most fulfilling, after all.

A thought came to me unbidden and I sat up straighter, looking at my father with a smile. He glanced at me hungrily.

"Daddy! Finish your food before gawking at least." I huffed at him, leaning back in my chair and crossing my legs. I made sure to put my arms on the side so he could get a good look at me. It felt nice having his attention. It made me feel good, especially between my legs. The idea of him looking at me was like an aphrodisiac. I couldn't get enough.

"Sorry, honey. You just look good enough to eat right now." He replied, swallowing. There was a pause that followed. "Daddy really wants to taste you, especially since you're showing yourself off to him like that. Don't you think you should be more modest in front of your father?"

I giggled, but paused abruptly.

Again, I felt an indescribable urge at the back of my mind, noticing a distinct thickness in the air. This time however, what I wanted to do was to stand up and walk over towards him so I could sit on his lap. A brief spell of confusion came over me.

Why would I do that?

But like wrinkles being ironed out, everything soon made perfect sense when I obliged.

He was my Daddy. It was only natural, after all.

I sat on his lap, grinding my hips against his groin in a slight circular motion before leaning back into his body. "Is this modest enough?" He was already prepared to receive me, quickly placing his hands on my thighs and greedily rubbing the palms over the skin. My pussy throbbed viscerally in response. He was so close, so intoxicating. I inhaled deeply, drinking in his scent with purpose.

He laughed, and I swore I felt my insides flutter in time with the vibrations of his chest as I laid upon it.

"Yes. Just how I like it. My modest girl." His voice came to me in a whisper, accompanied by his thumb brushing against the fabric of my panties. "My perfect doll."

His lips moved after that, but I didn't hear the words.

Rather...I couldn't.

That should have worried me, but my mind was elsewhere at the moment. All I could focus on was how he was so close to touching me.

God, I wanted him to finger me.

A low whine escaped my lips. I grinded against him again, spreading my legs further apart while craning my head upward to meet his gaze.

He seemed to notice the act, smiling. "What's wrong, honey?"

I nudged myself closer, laying my head against his clavicle and kissing his neck. "...do you want dessert?" I asked quietly. My hand found its way over his, guiding him closer to the burning pyre only he could sate.

He followed my motions easily enough, and after a moment, I felt two of his fingers pressed against my pussy. I let out a sigh of satisfaction, bucking my hips forward to meet the touch. In response, he moved his hand around, making small circles over my clit.

I heard him hun while teasing me like that. "You're offering dessert? What kind?"

I wanted to reply, but the words suddenly eluded me once he lifted his hand up to push my underwear to the side. He didn't wait, parting the folds of my lower lips so he could let his digits dive into the wet mess I had become.

I yelped, forcing out an answer. "M-my...pussy cream, daddy." I breathed out a few unsteady sighs as his middle finger slipped inside me. Immediately, I quivered, the sensation of something against my inner walls causing them to pulse as I nuzzled against my father.

"Oh, I'd love to taste my baby girl's cream." He whispered to me. He pulled out slightly, making me exhale a gasp, only to add his ring finger into the mix when he pumped back inside. His other hand strayed over my exposed clit, pressing against it as he began to fingerfuck me.

"God..." He muttered. "It's actually...working."

I whimpered.

What was working?

The question barely lasted a moment in my mind, fizzling out as soon as I felt him curl his fingers and press against a part that made me gasp out loud.

"Do you like that, honey?" I heard him ask with a chuckle.

He doubled his efforts now. Whereas his prior rhythm was slower and experimental so he could explore his daughter's pussy more, the way he pumped into me now was tinged by a determination I viscerally felt with every pump. I squirmed against him, the hardness pressing against my bottom showing very much how he was enjoying my insides.

I couldn't blame him though. I had been so horny for him since earlier, and he was finally giving me what I wanted. It was bliss. My father's fingers inside me was something I never knew I needed. It felt so good--so natural. I could only imagine what I'd feel taking in his cock. Like a...

"Good girl." He breathed out.

Yes, I was his good girl.

His daughter.

The realization caught up to me then.

My father was fingerfucking me, and I was thoroughly enjoying it.

I afforded myself a brief pause to think about that, but nothing came up. Nothing seemed wrong. So I refocused on what mattered more: feeling good.

I drank in the sensations greedily--my body up against his as I sat on his lap, the labored breaths we were both exhaling, my unsteady gasps whenever he shifted his rhythm to focus on a particular part or my clit with his other hand. Most of all, I inhaled his scent while it mixed with the distinct smell of my worked up pussy.

I was so close.

"D...d-daddy..." I let out something between a moan and a plea, awaiting that rapturous moment when I could cum on my father's fingers and give him the dessert I promised. I could almost feel it: the way my inner walls would spasm against him, the warmth around his skin.

But just before I crested that wave, my Daddy paused and slowly drew his fingers out from inside me.

I was struck by a sudden sense of loss. Bewildered, I shifted my gaze to look at him.

His eyes were elsewhere, so I followed the directive and looked forward. He was focusing on his fingers, inspecting the sheen of slick that coated the two digits by turning his hand side to side and letting the fingers part. The consistency of my cunt's cream was enough so that a sticky trail connected them when they did.

My father hovered the fingers by my face while I stared. Soon enough, he smeared the wetness on my lips like the lipbalm I usually used on them. I wasn't able to respond, still reeling from the denied orgasm. He had to use his other hand to manually turn my head to face him. I met his hungry eyes with my dazed ones.

He sent a smile before leaning closer and lapping off the cream from my lips. The act of him savoring the taste soon became a kiss when his tongue prodded me to open my mouth. I didn't offer much resistance, desperate to be sated in some way, so I drank from him as he drank from me.

When we parted, he directed me to stand along with him. "Come on, let's get these dishes cleaned up."

I nodded absently, moving on autopilot.

As I picked up the plates and bowls from the table, I couldn't help but let my mind wander towards what was going on. I was still very much at a simmer from the denied pleasure, and his wandering touch in between the clean up was keeping me aroused, but a brewing thought at the back of my head made me want to question things. It was like smoke though, dissipating whenever I tried to get it in my grasp.

Maybe I was just tired from the trip. And horny. God was I horny.

It was the arousal was clouding my judgement, yeah. That made sense.

I sighed and shook my head, carrying the dirty dishes to the sink. That could wait. I had chores to do.