tagIncest/TabooDad's Looking for Love

Dad's Looking for Love


The words on the computer screen sent shivers running up and down my spine, and the fact that they were coming from the keyboard of a girl young enough to be my daughter made it even more erotic.

"I dig older dudes," said the young women who went by the name ShastaRocks on the website I had stumbled across my chance. "49 ain't old anyway these days. You must like them young, huh?"

"I haven't been with an 18 year old girl since I was 20," I confessed, using my screen name LonelyDad. "Actually, this is all new to me. I've been faithful to my wife all my life."

ShastaRocks: "What brought all this on, LonelyDad? Why get the urge for teenage twat at your age? Middle age crazy?"

LonelyDad: "I found out she's been cheating on me. She doesn't know that I know, or maybe she just doesn't care. She's been doing her boss at work for - I don't know how long. We haven't had sex in months, and now I know why. Somebody tipped me off and I saw her coming out of a motel with the guy."

Shasta Rocks: "Bummer. Motel sex is hot though. Makes it feel even nastier that way."

I had vague recollections of that, I recalled, remembering a few trips to the Bonnie Doone motel in my young and single days.

ShastaRocks: "Never met a guy that didn't send me a picture first though. I mean, I'm crazy and down for anything and all, but there's a lot of weirdos out there."

LonelyDad: "I can't. I'm in a tough situation here, and if what I'm doing ever came out? I don't care if my wife found out, because of what she's been up to, but there's... other factors."

ShastaRocks: "Family? I understand totally. I mean, like I'm really discrete, no matter what you might think from what I written to you. My family? Like, my parents think I'm Mother freaking Teresa, or the Virgin Mary or something. If they ever knew the real me? They would shit, Dad especially."

LonelyDad: "I'm glad you understand."

"Still though, you have a picture of me," Shasta reminded me.

"I do," I admitted, and while it didn't show her face, the picture of the young lady with her creamy white thighs spread, exposing her delightfully furry delta, had certainly gotten my attention.

Shasta Rocks had told me that she always sends guys a picture of her "cunt" (her word not mine) because, "these days some guys think every girl has a shaved twat, and I don't do that. Besides, can you imagine how long it would take me to shave that bush? I just trim it a little so you can find the hole."

LonelyDad: "No, I'm a Renaissance Man. I love a hairy pussy."

ShastaRocks: "So why don't you send me a picture of your stuff? Doesn't have to be your face. I mean, you described yourself to me at all, and you sound hot, but sometimes you guys stretch the truth. One guy said he had 9" and when he took it out I didn't know whether to suck it or floss with it. Know what I mean, LonelyDad? Show me your cock."

So that was how I ended up taking a picture of my own dick, and I had to admit that I felt like an idiot doing it.

ShastaRocks: "OMG! My cunt is like dripping! The ruler next to it was a nice touch. Gave it some perspective. I'm going to deep throat that big boy of yours while your balls dance on my chin!"

Looking at the photo through my own eyes, I cringed even though there was no visual way to link me with it. The ruler happened to be at the computer table so I used it as a prop, but I was dismayed to find that I had to sink it into my flesh to get the head near the 8" mark on the stick.

Everything's going on me, I mused. My hairline is receding, my marriage is in the crapper and my cock is shrinking. Back in my youth, I remember all of us guys measuring out dicks in the fort we had built, and I didn't have to cheat to reach that far on a ruler.

LonelyDad: "Glad you liked it. I got it up looking at your picture."

ShastaRocks: "Flatterer! Hope you fuck as sweet as you talk. You on Viagra?"

LonelyDad: "No. Haven't needed it. I mean that I haven't had sex in so long it would be a waste using it now. I didn't used to have any problems though."

ShastaRocks: "Good, LonelyDad. Let's decide on a place and time so we can rock each other's worlds."


"We've got room 8," I e-mailed ShastaRocks from my laptop in what had to be the shittiest motel room in the world.

ShastaRocks had picked the place, The Whispering Pines Motel on the outskirts of town was her preferred venue, and I had gotten the room early that next Friday evening. The room had a noisy air conditioner that blew warm air around the dump, and my shirt was drenched after being in the room only 10 minutes.

Figuring I had some time before my "date" got there, I decided to take a shower. After stripping down, I looked at myself in the long bathroom mirror.

"Not bad," I said to no one as I looked at my physique in the glass, sucking in my stomach and trying to make my 5'11" 195 pounds look more like the 180 I had suggested I was. "Not bad at all."

I was kidding myself, of course. I was 49 years old and looked it. The stomach wasn't tight anymore and the hair on my chest was now half silver. ShastaRocks did say she liked older guys though, and I'm definitely that.

My stuff looked okay though, even with a little grey in the pubes. I had tried to pluck out the silver down there after trimming the bush from around the base of my cock, and it didn't come out bad.

"Here you go ShastaRocks," I said to the mirror, wagging my dick lewdly at my image. "You said you like it any way I want it. No holes barred, huh? Well, I'm ready."

Too ready, I noticed after feeling my cock swell from a few seconds of playing with it. I was so horny that I felt like a kid again, and I only hoped that I didn't freeze up when ShastaRocks arrived.

Imagine that, I thought. Being afraid to perform for an 18 year old girl, even one that admitted she wasn't all that pretty.

"I'm 5'4" and about 15 pounds overweight," ShastaRocks had told me about herself. "I don't know what my measurements are but I'm a little bigger on the bottom than I am on top."

Knowing that I had hedged a bit in my description, I figured that ShastaRocks had done the same with hers, so I braced myself for just about anything. Maybe the 15 extra pounds were really 50. I didn't care. She wanted me, and it had been a long time since anybody had said that to me.

The shower spray was weak but did the job, and although I used up half of the little towels they had, I felt better. Sprayed a little AXE in the pits, and as I did I heard the motel room door open.

"Helloooo?" came the voice of the girl that entered the small room, and I pulled the towel around me and came out of the bathroom to see ShastaRocks in the flesh.

"Where's that Lonely..." the girl that bounced into the room smiling said as I emerged eagerly to meet her, but the words caught in her throat when our eyes met.

"...Dad?" ShastaRocks said, finishing her greeting just before her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees gave way.

I kinda caught her, breaking her fall and grabbing her after letting the towel drop as I lunged forward, and at least that kept a very bad situation from becoming worse by getting her to faint on the edge of the bed.

With considerable effort, I managed to get the girl completely onto the bed before running to the sink and getting a damp towel for her head. She was out cold, and as I stood there looking down at ShastaRocks, I was at a loss as to what I should do.

She was prettier than she had let on in her description. Maybe 20 pounds overweight instead of 15, but she was still cute. Chubby cheeks and beautiful teeth that had cost a fortune to maintain, and I should know. You see ShastaRocks, known to me as Karen Marie Barber, is my daughter.


Who was this woman, I remember thinking as I looked at Karen on the bed, dressed in clothes I had never seen her in before. A loose fitting top with no bra underneath, revealing much of her ample bosom, was nothing that my little girl would wear around the house.

I picked up her purse and the little satchel she had brought into the room with her. Opening the satchel, I dumped the contents on the other bed, cringing when I saw what Karen had brought with her.

At least a dozen condoms, a bottle of lubricant, a pint of cheap vodka, along with a pair of furry purple handcuffs and a joint. Karen had come prepared. All I brought was three rubbers, and I figured that might be too many. Karen had brought a dozen.

Worse than the clothing and the abundance of make-up was the fact that my baby, the runt of our little litter and the only one of the 3 still at home, was meeting perverts in motel rooms and letting them have their way with her. What had happened to her?

A better question was, what had happened to me? I was merely one of those perverts, and was apparently more than happy to do anything and everything to this 18 year old girl. It was okay before, when it was somebody else's daughter. Why was that? Everybody's somebody's baby, aren't they?

But Karen? She was an honors student, and had never seemed to show much interest in boys or anything but school. She spent a lot of time at the library, and even now going to college next month she was still studying.

Studying? She was supposed to be at the library now. Was this where she went those nights she claimed to be studying? The Whispering Pines Motel? Great. Some family.

My wife is out fucking her boss while making up stories about where she's going that are so transparent she doesn't even care if I believe her. My daughter is out screwing around, having random sex with Internet predators, and here I am, hoping that my daughter regains consciousness so I don't have to call for an ambulance to carry her out of this dump.

That would be great, having to interrupt my wife's tryst with that Ricky Martin lookalike to let her know that her daughter was headed to the hospital.

"Small world!" I imagined myself telling my future ex-wife. "There I was thinking I was going to fuck some 18 year old slut in this motel room, and Karen shows up expecting to get bounced off the bedposts by some old bastard she didn't even know! You should have seen our faces! Small world, isn't it?"

"Daddy," Karen said in a shaky voice, her eyelids fluttering, and I reached down and grabbed a towel off the floor, covering myself as she started to come to.

"Yes baby, I'm here," I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Thought - thought it was a nightmare," my daughter managed to get out before she broke down.

"I know," I said, hugging her and holding her tight as we both cried until we ran out of tears.


The room was fairly dark, since night had fallen since we had arrived at the motel. After we got ourselves somewhat composed, Karen explained her story.

She had made herself out to be crazier than she really was, although she admitted that she had met several men this way, as well as one couple.

"I usually stake out the place first, so I can see who shows up," Karen said. "If they give me the creeps I just go home. If I didn't get tied up in traffic I would have probably beat you here, so when I saw you check in this wouldn't have happened. Where's the car?"

"I parked it across the road at that garage," I said.

"Clever," Karen said.

"Why though?" I asked. "You're pretty and smart. You don't need to meet guys like this."

"I'm not pretty, Dad," Karen said. "You're looking at me through Daddy eyes. I'm overweight and plain looking."

"Plump and cute," I maintained.

"Anyway, guys my age are just the pits," Karen said. "Snoop Dogg and extreme skateboarding? Please! Older guys are smarter and more mature. Better lovers too."

"Look, you want to go out and get a pizza?" I asked.

"Maybe later," Karen said. "You're disappointed in me, aren't you Dad?"

"Yes. I'm disappointed in you, but I'm more ashamed of myself than anything else," I said. "I have no right to preach morality to you, not sitting here naked with only a soggy towel around me."

"Not quite around you," Karen said, and she laughed when I quickly pulled it together. "Um - I think I saw it already, in that picture, remember? That was you, I assume?"

I said nothing and stared at the worn blanket we were resting on.

"Anyway, that picture was me," Karen said of her picture. "If you're disgusted with me now, I might as well tell you everything. You know what my therapist said to me?"

"Your therapist?" I asked, wincing when I realized how little I knew about my sweet Karen.

"Yeah, I see this woman every once in a while. Nobody else knows," Karen said. "Anyway, she says that when I reach out to older men I'm really reaching out to you. Looking for somebody like you."

"You can do much better," I said. "Ask your mother."

"Fuck her!" Karen spat, and I recoiled at not only her language but the vitriol in her tone.


"She's a cunt," Karen said, her lower lip quivering. "Her and that sleazy prick she's been shacking up with. I knew about him, but I was afraid to tell you. I didn't want you to think I was trying to break you up. I think you two are only together because of me."

"Might be true," I said, and it certainly was from my side.

"He even came on to me once."


"I went down to Mom's office to bring her the cellphone she left on the counter at home," Karen explained. "Mom had just left to go back home and get it herself, so I gave the phone to him. He asks me to set it on the desk in her office, and when I get in there he's all over me."

"Pretty desperate, isn't he?" Karen opined. "He's got me over Mom's desk, his knee between my legs while he's pawing my tits and telling me how hot I am as he grinds his dick into my back."

"Fucking asshole," I said coldly. "What happened?"

"I spit in his face and tried to punch him in the balls, but I missed," Karen lamented.

"Too bad."

"So what do you think of that?" Karen asked. "Me having these hidden desires to be with you?"

"I think your therapist is reaching there with that one."

"She says that a lot of girls have crushes on their fathers," Karen told me. "I know I had one on you. Didn't you ever feel anything toward me?"

"I love you," I admitted. "Always did and always will."

"Didn't you ever - like remember when you used to tickle me, and call me your little butterball?"

"Buttercup," I corrected. "You were a child. That was nothing more than play, I swear."

"Okay, but I was always hoping you felt towards me like I do for you," Karen said. "You don't know how many times I would hear you walking the halls, waiting for that cunt to come home, and I always prayed that you would come into my room."


"Didn't you ever think about it?" Karen asked, rolling over and standing up next to the bed. "Didn't you ever wonder what I looked like naked?"

"No," I maintained.

"I mean, I know Mom's body is nicer. She's skinny and all, but didn't you ever wonder? What if I wasn't your daughter?" Karen asked me. "Suppose I was just ShastaRocks, you didn't know me and I showed up like I did. What would you have done?"

"I - I don't know," I admitted.

"Why don't you know? Would you have tried to get out of it? Make an excuse to get out of the room and run? That happened to me before once. Guess I was too fat and homely for this one guy because he booked when I went to the can. Would that have been you too, Daddy? Is that why you don't know?"

"No, Karen," I said. "That's not it. You're beautiful. I just don't know if I would have been able to go through with it or not. Talk is cheap, and even though I hate your mother, part of me still loves her, and that's... Karen. What are you doing?"

"Please don't," I pleaded as Karen unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off her shoulders.

"Don't look away Daddy, please," Karen whimpered. "If you look away I'll just die. Please look at me."

I tried not to, but I looked at my daughter's bared breasts, larger and fuller versions of her mother's, with similar plump crimson nipples, and when Karen undid her slacks and pulled them off I kept looking.

I looked at her full, shapely legs, and when she lowered her panties I looked at the lush triangle of hair that guarded her sex. I looked at her full hips, the swell of her belly and then I looked down at the carpet.

"Say something Daddy," Karen pleaded as she raked her fingers through her bush. "That picture you sent me. I really did get myself off when I looked at it. That picture - was it you? Daddy?"

I stood up, the damp towel falling off and leaving no doubt that I was going to hell, because after watching my daughter disrobe in front of me, after all of this, I was hard. Hard as blue steel, and when Karen saw my cock swaying in front of me, our worlds changed forever.

"Oh Daddy," Karen sobbed, and made one step toward me before going down to the carpet.

This time however, Karen hadn't fainted, and her trip down to the worn rug was intentional and rather graceful. I had no time to react because seconds after Karen was kneeling in front of me, she had my cock in her mouth.

"OMIGOD!" I groaned as my daughter's lips slid down over the head of my dick and halfway down the shaft, her hands squeezing my balls as well as the base of my cock, and when her mouth started to go up and down it was with an enthusiasm and a passion that reminded me of someone else, only long ago.

Our eyes met, with Karen's big brown eyes partly shielded by my pubic hair, because she was getting incredibly close to doing what she claimed she could, namely deepthroating me. I felt like the lowest form of life on earth when I looked down at my baby, mainly because while I could have yanked her face away and gotten dressed and left, I didn't.

Instead, I let my daughter suck my cock. Not only allowed this abomination to take place, but encouraged it and reveled in it. Like a savage, I held Karen's head in my hands, and with my knees crouched I thrust my manhood into her mouth as hard as she was pushing forward.

Who was that grunting, making noises more fit for something slithering through the jungle? It was me, and when I looked over at the mirror on the motel room dresser and saw the chubby teenager on her knees in front of a middle aged predator who was in effect fucking her mouth, I recognized neither of these people.

I came, and as my orgasm roared through me I suddenly came to my senses, if only for a second. I tried to push Karen's face away, trying to somehow keep from compounding my sins by not ejaculating in her mouth, but although I managed to pull my cock out of my baby girl's mouth when I first started cumming, Karen was not going to allow that.

Instead, after my first rope of semen spurted over her face and hair, she forced her mouth back onto my cock, sliding her lips all the way down the shaft while my orgasm poured down her throat.

"Baby - baby," I finally gasped after I had not only cum but had gone limp in Karen's mouth, but tasting my seed had only made my daughter crazier.

She kept sucking on my cock, still squeezing my sac roughly while trying to siphon every drop out of me that was there, and her passion was now almost painful to me as she seemed possessed, her face sweat streaked and crimson.

After prying my very flaccid dick away from her, I reached down and grabbed her under her arms, my fingers gripping the slippery smooth surface of her armpits while bringing her to her feet. She was breathless and sobbing, but so was I.

"Daddy," Karen gasped, unaware or unconcerned that my semen was all over her face and drooling out the corners of her mouth. "I love you so much. Want to make you happy. Please."

Happy? I had just received the most amazing head in my life, and had just experienced an orgasm that was so intense my hamstrings were still quivering. I was happy. Beyond happy, and like the saying goes, once you unscrew the cap and let the Genie out of the bottle, there's no turning back.

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byMisterReason© 18 comments/ 105312 views/ 46 favorites

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