Father of the Bride - Amanda

Story Info
All's well that ends well.
21.6k words
4.64
18.5k
36

Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 03/31/2024
Created 02/14/2024
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

Amanda

Back to Reality

The light blue sky slowly came into focus, the first of the sun's rays hitting the tops of the trees and lighting up the world as birds began chirping in the distance. I rolled my neck and worked out the stiffness. While the lounge chair was comfortable, it didn't provide much in the way of neck support.

Trish murmured and readjusted, rubbing her cheek against my bare chest. She'd fallen asleep on me last night, my cock still lodged in her soft folds, where I had left it. The 'punishment' room had been a bit of a watershed moment in our relationship and cemented our roles in this strange new dynamic of ours. I'd always love my daughters for who they were, and last night I could finally admit that I'd raised two massive sluts. And all I had wanted to do at that time was to fuck my blonde slut until she passed out.

Well, mission accomplished.

"Mmm, what time is it, Daddy?"

"Well, based on the angle of the sun hitting the tree, I'd say about eight—" I checked my watch quickly. "six-ten."

She whimpered and snuggled into my chest, clenching her eyes shut in protest. "Too early."

"Aw, I'm sorry, sweety. Here, let me get you more comfortable."

I grabbed her perky ass, each cheek filling a palm, and bounced her on my lap, my morning wood bumping her cervix.

"Ah! Fuck, Daddy!"

"Well, if you insist."

Trish grabbed onto me as I bounced her harder on my cock, her head rolling limply as she tried to coordinate her muscles, still half asleep.

"Daddy! Mmph! You're using me like a pocket pussy!"

"Isn't that what you are?" I asked with a grin. "I thought you wanted to be my little slut?"

Trish's cries of objection slowly morphed into moans as her pussy slurped up my cock.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. I'll be your good slut."

"Damn straight."

Trish kissed me as I lifted her petite frame and continued dropping it on my cock. Her tongue explored my mouth as she moaned, her tunnel squelching around me.

"Fuck, Daddy. You're going to mold my pussy around you. Is that what you want? To make me your exclusive hole?"

"We both know that ain't gonna happen," I snorted as I held her down and ground her ass on my lap. She moaned loudly and wiggled her hips. "You're a slut, through and through. But I am going to fuck you as often as I want."

"Yes, Daddy!" Trish gasped as I started thrusting in again. "Fuck my pussy anytime! Fuck my ass, too! Any hole, Daddy! Oh fuck!"

Trish bit down on my neck, right where it met the shoulder, and screamed into the meat as she came. Her body shook as she tightened around my cock. I could only grunt and hose her down again, my cock throbbing and blasting her full of cum.

Trish whimpered as she finally relaxed, easing her teeth from my aching shoulder, clear impressions marked where she'd bitten.

"Do we really have to leave, Daddy?" Trish pouted against my chest. "Couldn't we just... live here?"

"How much money do you think I have, baby? Nowhere near what I'd need to cover this for even a month. Maybe if I sell a couple of your holes..."

"I doubt you'd make much, Daddy. They already get them for free." Trish stuck her tongue out at me.

"Damn, thought I was onto something there."

"Maybe with your next one."

"Aw, hell no. She's my sweet little angel, no one's getting her holes. Ever. I'm packing her off to a monastery. They still have those?"

"Saving them all for yourself, Daddy?" she teased. "You know, she'd totally fuck you."

I snorted and bounced her on my lap, eliciting another squeal.

"Yeah, I think not. You and Jaime are my only sluts."

"I'm sure she'd love to be your slut, Daddy," she grinned. "She's had it bad for you for so long."

"Do I have to gag you?"

"Only if it's with your cock, Daddy."

###

The ride back to the airport was as lively as ever, with everyone chatting avidly about their experiences, their favorite activities, and, predictably, best cocks. I was mollified that I'd made the top ten on most of their lists, though Trish was being a bit of a brat, theatrically weighing her hands before finally giving me the fifth spot, just behind the really hung black dude.

Eh, a win's a win.

"I'm so glad you and Trish worked things out," Blossom said as she hugged me tightly. "This place is all about family. It's important to accept and love each other."

"Listen, if you're trying to recruit me to this hippy commune, just tell me where to sign my soul away. I assume it's to mister D. Evil? Just to let you know, I already have a line of credit with him, and he's been on my ass about interest payments."

"You're terrible," she laughed and gave me a kiss. "We loved having you. Next time, you'll have to meet my sister and her kids. Mina and Annie have been talking you up, so they're already asking about you. And we'll get Steven and Jaime to come out too." She rubbed my cock through my slacks. "We could fuck our kids in the same bed," she suggested playfully.

"And I'm the bad one?" I asked with a laugh as I grabbed a handful of her meaty ass. "I look forward to it."

What followed was a long set of hugs, kisses, and gropes before we had to part and get back to our lives.

###

I clacked away at the laptop, the report continuing to grow longer, now crossing the hundred-page mark. Who in their right mind would even read this? I doubted any executive would peruse it, even with a one-page executive summary. Yet another mindless task that was a 'must finish' item that would then sit in the folder for the next decade before IT eventually erased it to make more space.

I leaned back, the leather of the old executive chair I'd bought nearly a decade ago creaking as I rolled my head. The beach vacation, which had just been last week, seemed like an eternity ago. My muscles, which had once felt like Jello, were cramped, and knotted again. That sunny, carefree disposition I'd developed was gone, back to the grouchy old man that I once was.

Okay, that wasn't really true. I was still the goofy guy I'd always been. Moreso now with Amanda and our dance classes. I'd never felt happier or closer to her than when she laughed at my attempts to impress her with a flourish, or giggle when I dipped her.

Caught in my reverie, I glanced at the photo frames on my desk. The largest one was of Jan and I at our wedding. The color had faded, but her red hair still stood out, shining, and cascading down her shoulders in waves. The pearled hairclip that I'd bought her when we'd first started dating peeking from the side where it held her flowing locks, giving her a charming asymmetric look.

In front of the photo were three smaller ones, one for each of the girls. Jaime's was from when she was ten. She rode a horse, her smile wide, showcasing her missing tooth that had just fallen out. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her eyes sparkling with joy.

Beside hers was Trish's, a photo from her swimming days in middle school. She was bundled in a towel, holding up her swim trophy and excitedly waving to the camera, those blue eyes so sweet and innocent.

Last was Amanda's, from her junior prom. A demure photo, her hands folded over themselves as she smiled at the camera. Her hair fell in waves, just like Jan's. She wore the same pearled clip that her mother had, a keepsake of hers. She was beautiful, but the sadness still lingered behind her green eyes.

Maybe I'd just wanted to remember Jaime and Trish as sweet and innocent, but Amanda's always tugged at my heart. Maybe it was just to remind myself that she needed me more.

I had been lost in thought, not even noticing when the screen turned black from idleness. My arm warmed as the angle of the sun changed, something that only happened later in the evening.

I glanced at my watch, realizing I'd been staring into space for an hour.

There was a gentle rap on the door.

"Daddy?" Amanda's muffled voice called through the door. "Did you want to make dinner together?"

The chair squeaked as I got up, closing the laptop and heading for the door. "Yeah, Pumpkin. Sorry, got caught up in something." I opened the door where Amanda smiled at me.

Maybe because I'd just been looking at the photos, but she reminded me so much of Jan now that her eyes shone once more with life. She'd come a long way the last couple of years.

"Daddy? Is something on my face?"

"Ah, no, Pumpkin. Just being an old man, thinking about the past."

"Daddy, you're barely in your forties, hardly an old man."

"I have an old soul. The flesh is still catching up."

Amanda stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on my lips. "Don't worry, Daddy. I still think you look handsome."

"I feel like you're legally obligated to say that." I planted a kiss on her cheek. "But thank you. Now, let's make some dinner."

Amanda hooked my arm with a smile, and we headed down to the kitchen.

***

Bolognese pasta just wasn't a complete meal without fresh, handmade garlic bread. Amanda and I had this down pat by now, having spent years doing this. Jaime and Trish had both spent some time learning it, but they never really cared for the domestic lifestyle, preferring to cut corners for the sake of time. There wasn't anything wrong with it, but Amanda took a shine to it, and we would experiment with various recipes and perfect our craft.

Amanda giggled, her trademark flour-kissed cheeks and nose glowing as we talked about anything under the sun. It didn't matter what it was about, I could always make her laugh. I had an endless repertoire of dad jokes and terrible puns, and maybe she was just being polite, but those laughs always seemed genuine.

When we weren't idly chatting, we listened to music. Latin songs filled the kitchen from the portable speaker, and our hips and legs moved to the rhythm. More hers than mine, but I was finding the beat, much to her delight. The lessons hadn't been completely wasted on me.

"Oh, Pumpkin, Jaime wanted to host a welcome-back party from her honeymoon. Did you want to come? She said it would be small."

Amanda wrinkled her nose beside me, her hip bumping me casually.

"I think I'll pass, Daddy. I love her to bits, but I don't need to hear about how much sex she had with Steven."

Among others, I imagined.

"And, knowing her, it'll be all her... friends... that'll just encourage her to give up all the details."

They probably already knew. Hell, they'd probably watched, if not participated.

I bumped her hips back as I bounced to the music. "She's married now, Pumpkin. She can do what she wants with her husband. Though I'll need to refill the spray bottle if they come over again."

"Better bring the hose, Daddy," she laughed. "They were bad enough before, now I'm pretty sure they won't be hiding it."

We settled back into our rhythm and kneaded the dough.

The music cut out and the phone rang over the speaker. I nodded toward the phone behind me on the island and Amanada tapped it.

"Hi, Daddy," Trish said in an unusually breathy manner. "Are we still, mmm, having dinner at seven tonight?"

"Yes, baby," I answered with a roll of the eyes. This wasn't the first time she'd done this.

"Oh good, mmm, I just wanted to let you know, ah, that I might be a little late."

It usually wouldn't be as clear, but the fact that it was blasting from the speakers let me pick up the faint, wet slapping sound.

"Alright, baby, we'll set aside some for you. We'll keep some bread warm for you."

"Ngh, thank you, Daddy. Ah! I love you, Daddy!"

The sound thankfully cut out, replacing her cry with salsa music again.

"Slut," Amanda grumbled under her breath.

"Come on, Pumpkin," I chided softly. "There's nothing wrong with being a slut. She's just living like she wants."

She gave me a surprised look, her hands sunk deep in the dough. "What?"

I bumped her hip, trying to get her back into the song.

"Sweety, we know she's a slut. She knows it too. It's fine."

"You... you've never called her a slut before..."

I shrugged, still moving to the beat.

"It's just a word, Pumpkin. Doesn't mean I love her any less. She knows what she wants, and if that's lots and lots of sex, then more power to her."

Amanda nibbled her lip as she stared at the dough on the table.

I bumped her hips again.

"Come on, what happened to that spunk? Gotta keep practicing."

A slow smile spread on her lips, her prior thoughts apparently banished, as she bumped my hips back, getting into the swing of things again.

###

Amanda snorted with laughter as I stepped on her foot again. It wasn't like I was trying to do it, but there were way more steps now, and the tempo was much faster than I was expecting.

"Daddy, more hips, less feet. You don't have to step with every note, just lift your heel and sway your hips."

"Okay, but these guy hips aren't really made for this."

"Uh, have you seen Enrique over there?"

I glanced over to one of the other couples practicing. His hips wiggled like he was communicating in morse code and most of the ladies in the room were receiving what he was sending.

"Okay, but he's Brazilian. I'm white."

"You saying white men can't dance?"

I glanced over again. "Not like that. I think his partner might be pregnant now. And half the ladies here."

Amanda laughed again and put her hands on my chest. "Okay, okay. Here, watch me. Like this."

She began to sway to the rhythm, her hips bouncing with the beat and her shoulders rolling in sync. She locked her emerald eyes on me like she was dancing only for me. She flicked her head, sending her red waves to one side, displaying her long neck adorned only by a small gold chain I'd bought her for her sixteenth birthday.

"See, Daddy? It's easy. You just have to bounce with the music. Let your knees keep the rhythm and sway your hips with every other one."

She lifted her slender arms above her head as she moved, a little smile on her lips as I watched her. The way she moved lightly, like walking on air, was a degree of grace neither Trish nor Jaime had. How my little girl grew up to be so elegant, I'd never know.

"So? What do you think?"

"Perfect."

Amanda blushed shyly, her neck scrunching up a bit in embarrassment. "Daddy. I meant do you think you can dance like that?"

"Oh. Well, no, but I'll give it a shot."

"Here, hold me hands."

I rather imagined it looked like a trained ape dancing with a ballerina, but Amanda's dazzling smile made those worries evaporate. So what if I messed up every other step? My girl was happy, pearls of laughter ringing out and the sweetest smile I'd ever seen. It was worth it.

###

The Announcement

My life had settled back into a comfortable rhythm. Work from home, prepare meals, go dancing with Amanda, and just generally getting back to how it had been before all the craziness around Jaime's wedding. Layla and the girls seemed to be done with me, having satisfied their curiosity, and gone on to bigger and younger studs, I was sure.

Although still flirty, Trish was out doing what, and who, she did best. There weren't any more surprise morning visits, and she always got back well after I was asleep. That didn't keep her from hopping in the shower with me once or twice. Not that I minded. Her holes were wet and inviting, and I hosed them down with glee.

Truthfully, I was happy to be back to emptying my balls only once a week. The breakneck pace of the last few weeks simply wasn't something my body could handle. As one of my favorite cartoons had once said, the spirit was willing, but the flesh was spongy and bruised.

That sentiment, though, went out the window the moment I saw Jaime again.

She was back from her honeymoon and had asked me over to help organize the wedding gifts and set up the apartment. When I'd entered the place with the key she'd given me, my cock throbbed at the smell lingering in the air. My head buzzed. It was like I could taste her pheromones.

Jaime stood at her bedroom doorway, a knowing smirk on her face, her smoky eyes watching me. Blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders. She wore a white, sheer dress that did nothing to hide her perfect body, hugging her supple skin tightly. The edge of the dress ended not an inch below exposed pussy. Her musk was in the air, a trickle of her excitement running down her thigh.

"Hi, Da—"

That was as far as she got before she squealed. I mashed my lips to hers and forced my tongue into her mouth. Her tongue eagerly swirled around mine as she wrapped her arms around me, holding on while I lifted her and rushed her to the bed behind her. Her long legs wrapped around me, dragging me down onto the mattress with her.

At that moment, I wouldn't have cared if Steven had been sleeping on the bed. I mauled her with a need I had never known, and she responded in kind, tearing at my shirt, and humping my erection. I squeezed those wonderous globes through her dress, her nipples so hard they could scratch my palms. I broke my frenzied kiss and latched my mouth onto one of those globes, soaking the sheer material as I lashed and sucked at it.

Jaime screamed and arched her back. She grabbed my hair, scratching my scalp as she bucked against me. Her hips had already soaked my slacks. I could feel the heat of her pussy through them.

I growled and switched tits, my hands pulling at my pants to get them down. I didn't even bother to take them off completely, letting them pool at my feet. I positioned my cock and rammed home into that molten heat I remembered.

Jaime screamed and ground her hips against mine, moving up octaves as I savagely rammed my length into her. I tore the flimsy dress, finally dragging her right tit into my mouth so that I could suck on it.

"DADDY!!!!! OH FUCK!"

Jaime continued screaming, her shrieks filling the air as her pussy clamped around me. That amazing sensation of being sucked in by my eldest daughter shot through me. I never stopped thrusting even as I came.

"HHHNNNNNGG, CUM IN ME!!! FUCK ME, DADDY!!!!"

I clamped my mouth over hers, muffling her desperate cries as I continued to fuck her, even after my load had stuffed her. Our tongues swirled and dove into each other.

I grabbed her ass with both hands, lifting her up and bouncing her on my cock. Her pussy leaked all over me, running down my balls and my leg. I pummeled her until my arms felt weak while she clawed at my back, wailing like a banshee. I turned to the bedroom wall, slamming her against it, pinning her there while I renewed my rabid pumping.

"Use your slut, Daddy! I haven't had cock in that hole in so long. She needs you, Daddy. Fill your slutty little girl. Fuck me, Daddy!"

I roared as I unloaded into her again, my balls pulling tight against her hole as I ground in as deep as I could. Jaime gasped and shook, her pussy clenching non-stop around me.

My thrusts grew slower as the last of my cum poured into her.

"What a good slut," I gasped as she finally stopped shaking. "God, I missed your holes."

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she gulped. "I didn't know you needed me so badly. You can use your little slut anytime."

She held on to me as we both panted. My legs shook, but I didn't want to let her down, not while that sweet hole continued to flutter around me.

"Of course, you'll have to share that hole from now on," she said with a grin.

My breath slowed as I gazed into her gleeful eyes, the crystal blues resembling the ocean.

"That's right, Daddy. You're going to be a Daddy again."

The words sank in. She was pregnant. And it was my baby. I'd impregnated my own daughter, and it felt... amazing.

Jaime gasped suddenly. "D... Daddy? Are you hard again?"

The burning in my legs, the ache in my arms, all forgotten. I resumed my slow thrusts.