Daughter Sucks Dad's Cock Ch. 02

'Oh, Daddy. I'm all unbuttoned. I was so engrossed watching the movie, how did that happen? When did that happen? I'm so embarrassed that you're seeing my naked breasts,' I imagine playing the innocent virgin while acting surprised that my breasts were nakedly exposed. 'Please don't look at my naked tits, Daddy.'

Realistically, while cuddling with me, I wondered if he'd be horny enough and sexually tempted enough to touch me and feel me through my mother's thick, flannel nightgown. The thought of him unbuttoning me while we cuddled in the way that he must have unbuttoned my mother, made me so wet. Just the thought of my Dad seeing so much of my nearly naked body sexually aroused me. Only, as we innocently watched a movie, my Dad would never sexually take advantage of me while I cuddled with him on the couch. He'd never unbutton my nightgown.

'Yet, I wished he would unbutton my nightgown,' I thought while imagining him seeing my naked tits and touching my naked breasts. 'If it helped him to sleep, I'd allow him to see my naked tits, touch my naked tits, feel my naked tits, and even suck my naked tits while fingering my erect nipples.'

Yet, with him never sexually attracted to me, he wasn't like that. Completely covered from my neck to ankles, I wasn't trying to sexually tease, tempt, or arouse him, or so I continued telling myself. I just wanted to lovingly cuddle with him in the way that my mother lovingly cuddled with him for him to sleep. Yet, in the back of my mind, having wicked, sexual thoughts about my father, I wanted him to touch me and feel me. Subconsciously, I wanted him to give me sex, incestuous sex.

Making matters worse, had I worn one of my sheer nightgowns, I would have shown my father more of my sexy and shapely body than I'd feel comfortable showing him. Had I worn one of my low-cut nightgowns to cuddle with him on the couch, he may have felt compelled to reach his hand inside my nightgown top and feel my naked breasts and finger my erect nipples. Had I worn one of my short nightgowns, he may have been tempted to lift the front of my nightgown all the way up to my waist, expose my naked pussy, and have sex with me.

'Oh, God. I'm making myself so horny just thinking about wearing a sheer, low-cut, and sexy nightgown to bed for my father. I'm making myself so wet thinking about him touching me and feeling me through my flimsy nightgown while having sex with me,' I thought. 'How dare I think of my father in such a sexual way?'

Having been a while since I had sex, obviously, I'm so horny. Obviously, I needed to get laid. Clearly, I needed to suck a cock. I needed to masturbate myself while trying not to think of having illicitly forbidden sex with my father. I needed to cum.

# # #

In the way that my mother did every night, while hoping that he'd agree to do the same with me, I decided to offer to snuggle with him on the couch while watching a movie. I just wanted my Dad to get some sleep. If he needed anything, he needed to get some rest. I thought that he'd find comfort in holding me while feeling me through my mother's flannel nightgown. Yet, a subconscious thought, I wondered if he'd give me sex in the way that he gave my mother sex. Suddenly, I was sexually aroused again by the thoughts of having sex with my father.

With us both exhausted, obviously, he was unable to sleep without my mother there for him to hold, cuddle, touch, fondle, and feel. Clearly, without my mother there to stroke and suck his cock, allowing him to cum in her mouth, and all over her face, he was unable to sleep. If he'd have me, for him to sleep, I was willing to be his surrogate wife instead of his daughter but without the sex. There's nothing wrong with allowing my father to hold me while resting on the couch. It wasn't as if we'd be having sex in bed.

As if I was his favorite, stuffed animal sleeping in his arms or his loving dog sleeping beside him, instead of his horny daughter hoping to have sex with him, my concern for him was an unselfish thought for me. Or, so I thought. Yet, making myself so very hot and horny, I couldn't help but think of my father touching and feeling my breasts and ass through my mother's nightgown. I couldn't help from thinking of having sex with my father.

Yet, not wanting to admit it to myself, in the back of my mind, envious of their close, sexual relationship that they had, I clearly had an ulterior motive. Not that I ever would but, obviously, I wanted to have sex with my father. I wanted him to sexually touch me and incestuously feel me. I wanted him to give me the same loving attention and sexual affection that he so freely gave my mother. I figured, in the way that he cuddled with my mother on the couch while watching a movie, he could cuddle on the couch with me while watching a movie.

'Yet, I berated myself. How dare I think about having sex with my mourning father? How dare I take sexual advantage of him in such a diabolical, sexual way? Yet, I was hurting, too. I missed my mother as much as he missed his wife,' I thought. 'I was mourning her loss too, and growing closer to my Dad, if even with him just holding me, would help me through my grief.'

My forbidden, incestuously sexual thoughts continued creeping in my horny brain. I couldn't help but think of having sex with my father under the not so subtle excuse that I was helping him to sleep. Yet, who was I kidding? I wasn't even kidding myself. If he agreed to innocently cuddle with me on the couch, if he agreed to guiltlessly sleep with me, then, if he dared to touch and feel me through my nightgown while we were cuddling, I wondered what would I do?

Would I allow him to sexually touch me or would I slap his hand away? Would I allow him to sexually feel me in the way that he sexually felt my mother and in the way that he should never sexually feel his daughter? Would I dare allow him to unbutton my nightgown to expose my naked breasts? Would I dare allow him to lift the front of my nightgown to expose my naked pussy?

Yet, way ahead of myself, other than being sexually aroused, I had no idea how I'd react to him unbuttoning my nightgown to expose my naked breasts to my father's eyes. Other than being embarrassed, I had no idea how I'd react to him lifting the front of my nightgown and exposing my naked pussy to him. Until it happened, I had no idea what I'd do if my father tried to strip me naked and have incestuous sex with me. A bittersweet thought, as disgusted with the thought of having illicit sex with my father, I was sexually aroused, too.

As much as my father needed the touch and feel of a woman, I needed the loving affection and sexual attention that only a strong father can give to his vulnerable needy and horny daughter. Yet, so as not to make him think that I was an incestuous whore, even though, I clearly was, I needed him to make the first sexual move, then, I'd make all of the rest of the sexual moves. Whether he thought that I wanted to have sex with him or not, at the very least, I needed him to touch me and feel me through my mother's flannel nightgown.

Something that would assuredly make us both feel better, I needed him to feel my tits and finger my nipples. As shocking as I deemed it necessary, I needed him to unbutton my nightgown. I needed him to allow me to touch his prick, feel his prick, hold his prick, and stroke his prick.

Just the thought of him feeling me through my mother's nightgown while unbuttoning my nightgown made me so wet. Yet, not stopping there, I was as embarrassed as I was sexually aroused by the thought. For me to have my wicked, sexual way with his cock, I needed him to have his wicked, sexual way with my naked tits and, perhaps, even with my naked pussy, too.

# # #

Lucky for me, with me having breasts as big as my mother's big tits, my Dad loved big breasted women. Whenever he saw Oprah on TV, or Christina Hendricks and Retta on Good Girls, he always commented on the size of her huge breasts. Whenever he watched the Bachelor with my mother, he always advised the bachelor to pick the women with the larger, sized breasts. Whenever he saw the president's wife, Melania Trump, or the president's daughter, Ivanka, on TV, he always commented on the size of their breasts while admiring their big tits.

In the way that he was enamored with everyone else's big breasts, I knew that he was enamored with my big breasts, too. To be totally honest and wicked for me to admit, I wouldn't even care if he unbuttoned my nightgown all the way down to the top of my pubic hair. I wouldn't care if he stuck his horny hand inside, felt my naked breasts, held my naked breasts, and fingered my erect nipples all night long while we cuddled. In the way that he obviously did with my mother, I hoped that he'd feel and squeeze my ass through my mother's nightgown.

Again, taking things to a sexual extreme, wicked of me to have such sexual thoughts, but I wouldn't care if he fingered my black, pubic hair before reaching further down to rub my clit and fingerfuck my pussy. I was hoping that he'd not only feel my naked breasts but also would masturbate me, too. In the way that I'd love my father to cum for me, I'd love to cum for my father. Now that my mother was gone and with me living alone with my Dad, I'd love for him to make me his sexual slut.

'What would it matter,' I thought while sexually ready to give myself to him? 'I'd be doing it for my father. I'd be doing him a big favor. I'd be helping him to sleep,' I thought while justifying my reason for wanting to have sex with him. 'I wouldn't care if he used me and sexually abused my naked body while having sex with me as we cuddled. With the onus of guilt off of me, I'd allow him to accept the blame and the guilt for having sex with my naked body, his daughter's naked body, as we cuddled while watching a movie.'

What's the big deal? It's just my ass. It's just my tits. I've shown plenty of men my naked breasts. Why not my father? I've allowed plenty of men to feel me through my clothes, why not my father? Besides if feeling my body through his wife's nightgown allowed him to finally get some rest, my justification to have incestuous sex with my father, a worthy cause, I'd be willing to do that.

'I would. I'd allow him to feel my body through his wife's nightgown. I really would,' I thought.

Then, being the wicked whore that I am, I had a thought that shocked me as much as it sexually aroused me. While I cuddled with him on the couch, if that was something that he needed to do to sleep, what if he moved my hand to his throbbing, erect prick. More than just moving my hand to his cock while watching a movie, what if he removed his cock from his pajama bottoms, wrapped my fingers around his dick, and humped my hand for me to give him a hand job?

'Oh, my God,' I thought. 'I wondered if he'd dare do that? Would my Dad dare do that? What would I do if he did do that? Would I stroke his prick in sexual arousal or would I pull my hand away in disgust? I was so sexually aroused with the thought of stroking my father's prick. I made myself so very wet just thinking about giving him a hand job. I made myself so horny thinking about him cumming all over my hand.'

Unsure that I'd do, I wondered about giving him a hand job or not. While he humped my hand, would I'd keep my hand there or would I pull it away? Unless and until it happened, I didn't know what I'd do.

Yet, why the Hell not? A selfless act on my part, if giving my father a hand job helped him to sleep, I'd stroke his cock. I would. I'd stroke him long enough and hard enough for him to cum. I've given lots of lesser men hand jobs for no good reason other than that they were horny and I was eager to get rid of them.

If he wrapped my fingers around his naked cock and humped my hand especially if he held his hand over my hand, I'd give him a hand job while continuing to watch the movie. Definitely, I would. What did it matter? No big deal. It's just a hand job. Besides, being the wicked whore that I am, I've masturbated so very many men that I didn't even like and, I loved my father.

# # #

Then, consuming me with sexual arousal mixed with incestuous guilt, while making me even wetter, what if he parted my lips with his prick? A wicked thought that made me want to blow my father, what if he forced his hard, erect cock in my mouth? Would I voluntarily, willingly, and eagerly give my Dad a blowjob? Would I dare suck his prick? Having never thought about it before, truthfully, the thought of sucking my father's prick sexually aroused me as much as it disgusted me.

'Oh, my God,' I thought. 'I wonder what it would feel like to have my father's cock buried in my mouth?'

Having broken up with my boyfriend before my Mom died, it's been a while since I had a cock in my mouth. Yet, with the onus of guilt and blame off of me but squarely on my father for sticking his dick in my mouth while I cuddled with him on the sofa, indeed, I'd eagerly suck his cock. Without doubt, I definitely would. The thought of blowing my father made me horny enough to want to masturbate myself while imagining sucking his prick.

In the way that he did with my mother, while cuddling with him on the couch, I'd even allow him to cum in my mouth and all over my face. I imagined my father's cum in my mouth, dripping from my lips, splattered all over my face, and across my naked breasts. Thinking about the forbidden, I was so very sexually excited just thinking about blowing my father, him cumming in my mouth, and him giving me a cum bath. Now, sexually excited about blowing him, I was determined to, somehow, suck his cock.

'What's wrong with me? Why would I even think of blowing my father? How dare I ponder the thought of having oral sex with my father when my mother just died only a few months ago? I'm no better than one of her bitchy, conniving, and gold-digging friends,' I thought while berating myself for having incestuous thoughts and forbidden, sexual feelings for my father.

'Yet, would I dare have sex with my father? Who knows? I just might. I've done worse. Would I give him a blowjob in the way that my mother routinely did? I didn't know until it happened. Moreover, I may suck his cock but would I allow him to cum in my mouth and all over my face? With no one around to judge me and to think less of me, there'd be more of a chance that I would if we were cuddling on the couch while watching a movie in the darkened corner of the living room.'

If I dared blow my Dad, unable to stop myself, I'd actively, wantonly, and definitely would allow him to cum in my mouth. With me already wanting to blow him, I'd even allow him to give me a cum bath. I imagined his cum all over my tongue, dripping from my lips, collected in my hair, sprayed all over my face, and across my naked breasts. Nonetheless, surprising myself, even shocking me, instead of being disgusted by the thought of sucking my father's prick and him cumming in my mouth and all over my face, I was sexually aroused.

# # #

'What's wrong with me,' I thought again? 'This isn't some horny, perverted man that I'm dating. This is my father. This is my Dad. I can't believe that I want to blow him. I can't believe that I want to suck his prick. I can't believe that I want him to cum in my mouth and all over my face. God, indeed, I'm such a wicked whore.'

Yet, riddled with incestuous lust for my widowed Dad, I imagined him doing all of the sexual things with someone else that I imagined him incestuously doing with me. Justifying my incestuous sexual actions under the guise of making him feel sexually satisfied enough to sleep, who was I kidding? Under the guise that I was innocently cuddling with him and that he was taking sexual advantage of me, I obviously wanted to have forbidden sex with my father as I hoped that he'd want to have incestuous sex with me.

'A big step for me to take. Starting there and giving it some serious thought. Would I really allow him to sexually touch and feel me through my nightgown? Would I really allow him to unbutton my nightgown,' I thought while thinking more about it? 'Would I dare show him my naked breasts? Would I dare allow him to touch, feel, and fondle my naked breasts and turn, twist, and pull my erect nipples?'

Thinking more about what I'd allow him to do and what I wouldn't allow him to do, I thought of my mother. What would she do? Especially with her knowing the wicked whore that I am, what would my mother want me and expect me to do in this situation and under these circumstances? What if this was her father? Knowing the whore that my mother would have been and could have been had she not married my father; would she have sex with him, her own father? No doubt, if she was me, she would.

'Continuing to ponder the thought of having forbidden sex with my Dad, would I allow him to masturbate me? Would I dare stroke his cock while he rubbed my clit and fingerfucked my pussy? Would I dare suck his cock while he felt and fondled my naked breasts while fingering my erect nipples? Would I dare blow my father, allow him to cum in my mouth, and allow him to give me a cum bath? I didn't know but I was sexually aroused just thinking that I would,' I thought.

Clearly jealous of the sexual relationship that he had with my mother, after we had sex, I wondered if I slept with him and he cuddled with me, if that would help him to sleep. Suddenly sexually aroused again with the thought of having forbidden sex with my father, I wondered what I'd do if he wanted to have sex with me. Would I welcome having sex with him or, at the last minute when having second thoughts, would I turn him away? Would he want to have sex with me in the way that I'd want to have sex with him?'

I didn't know. I wasn't sure. If I did have it in me to have incestuous sex with my father, there'd be no going back, once I opened Pandora's Box and traveled down that illicitly, forbidden road. Yet, unable to stop myself from dwelling on it, I couldn't stop thinking about having an inappropriate, sexual relationship with my father.

'Would I allow him to practically strip me naked,' I thought? 'Would I stop him or allow him to do whatever he wanted to do to my naked body under the guise that I was helping him to sleep? The big question that I was unable to answer until it happened, would I have incestuous sex with my father? Would I stroke him, suck him, and fuck him while he had incestuous sex with me?'

Suddenly, having not had sex in a while, I was so very horny. Suddenly, sexually aroused, I was making myself all wet by thinking about having sex with my father. I thought that, during the night, at the very least, that he may touch me and feel me through my mother's nightgown in the way that he touched and felt my mother. At the very least, with me playing the innocent victim, while pretending that I was there just to cuddle him while watching a movie, would I allow him to feel my naked breasts while fingering my erect nipples.

'There's no harm in that,' I thought while justifying it to myself. 'It's just tits. It's just my tits. Now that my mother is no longer around to stop me and to make me feel guilty and make me feel like the whore that I am, I can do whatever I want with my own breasts. I've allowed lots of men to see my naked tits, feel my naked breasts, and suck my tits, why not allow my father that same sexual pleasure, too?'

Only, my Dad wasn't like that. A faithful husband who never cheated on my mother, he never had sex with anyone but with her. As far as I knew, unless he's been secretly masturbating over me while spying on me and watching me undress, he was never sexually attracted to me. I may think the thought of him wanting to have sex with me but I knew that my father would never act on the thought. He'd never have sex with me, his daughter, in the way that he had sex with my mother.