How I Peg My Former BF, If Agrees

Editor's note: this work contains scenes of fictional incest or incest content.

Description: Former shy Vanilla girl, now persuades her boy to try strapon

Category: INCEST.

Tags. Incest, pegging, dad and daughter, emoji, kinky, vanilla, strapon, dumped, Letters of Love

Introduction.

##### To the Reader. A tale about INCEST and sex between a Daughter and her Dad (just a fantasy tale: avoid reading it!). This tale contains incestuous sex between a willing daughter and her father, anal sex with a strapon, and very slight hints of the use of handcuffs. so please don't read it if that bothers you, feel free to devote the time to other more interesting tales. A contribution to the Letters of Love Story Event 2022 (the writing girl had already appeared in my previous https://literotica.com/s/how-i-peg-my-father-daughter-dad). #####

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e-mail from Margret.

Dear Jasper.

I had sworn to my female friends not to write to you or look you up (following the music of Dua Lipa's "New Rules") (damn: she's YOUR favorite singer!) but instead I'm writing you.

You dumped me before you took a trip to Rome with your friends. Maybe you wanted to be written "relationship-free bachelor" on social media, with all those beautiful girls around? Maybe ditching me was a way to wash your conscience, like saying, "It's not cheating if I had already dumped her!"?

But I'm not writing to you because of that. I am writing to you because I am not the Vanilla girl YOU thought I was.

I just found out today, and it's like a world has opened up for me: like Simba when he thinks he's lost in the desert, and instead, he just takes two steps forward and finds a forest with fruit and a hot tub. Or maybe the trio of the "Hakuna Matata," of the "Don't Worry, Be Happy!" are you three piglets, in Rome drinking cocktails with some brazen stranger? The three Flying Dutchmen? But let's not digress.

I'm writing to you after I just finished pegging my father.

Reread the sentence slowly.

It's all true.

It was something we talked about once, remember? "To Peg," or fuck in the ass, or impale.

With a strap-on.

Yeah.

It's not mine, I borrowed it.

Because of YOU, I joined the family vacation at the last minute.

I left home forgetting my suitcase, shoes, and head because of YOU, and now I am in Tuscany with my family. Thank goodness my mother is wearing the same size shoes as me, but otherwise, I am naked and without anything. I wear my brother's T-shirts when I go out.

I don't even have a vibrator!

And I was bored, and I was thinking about you, and I was angry.

So, I went to my mother's room to borrow one (washed, disinfected, and everything, I'm not Vanilla but I'm clean).

You know my mother: ever since she had her hysterectomy to remove her uterus, she talks about her vagina at lunch and dinner with anyone, she is a real exhibitionist. Once at dinner she even wanted you to look at the scar!

Well, she never hid her body or even her sexual habits from us as sons, and I knew that if I needed a vibrator, I would find it for sure.

She had gone away taking my brother Kurt along for a day trip.

I found several vibrators and a strap-on. Yes. That one. I know you know, we even saw some movies together.

In the middle, it had an adjustable ring. I thought of playing a prank on my father and hooked the most gigantic Evil Dragon dildo I had ever seen, orange and purple, to the ring.

Silently, on the tip of my bare feet, I went to my father (who was working on emails for his job) and showed myself as an Exterminating Angel! With a huge dildo protruding in front of my slender female body!

And I told him in a mocking voice, "Look what I found in Mom's drawer! Is there anything you want to confess to me, Daddy?"

He, you know him, Jasper, he is a true Alpha male. In his job, he is the respected boss of a lot of people, and he carries great responsibility.

And he was always close to us, he taught me how to ride a bike and helped me with my schoolwork, he was always close to me and my brother.

And he was always ... "sincere": not exhibitionist like my mother, but honest. If we had doubts about contraception or sex, he was always available and always sincere. A bit verbose, with a tendency to wander between distant concepts, however truthful.

I think he paled at the sight of the Evil Dragon.

But he was sincerely willing to explain.

He had the same tone of voice he used to explain the balance of the wheelless bicycle to me: he called me, as he did then, "My Cub Bear" (it is not allowed FOR YOU to call me by that name, EVER, Jasper: only my father could).

Was it strange for him to explain such a perverse thing to me in such a serene voice? Maybe not. Maybe things seem kinky if a drunk friend tells you about them, and they become simple if a person who cares about you seriously describes them.

He confessed to me, serenely, that (in addition to several other kinky practices) he and Mom practice pegging. She slathers him with lubricating gel and then penetrates his anus with a dildo (thin: not the Purple Dragon).

While they stare into each other's eyes, face to face.

This is important, he told me, because if there is pain or discomfort, communication is instantaneous. He also added that the person penetrated needs to relax, and therefore, all four positions are inadvisable, because it would increase YOUR fear and insecurity. Ha!

Over the years, Dad and Mom have found that they both like it better if their wrists and ankles are cuffed: it increases the feeling of vulnerability (and, between you and me, it made him look like a delicious roast chicken, with wings and thighs tied). But if you don't feel up to it, I can let you off the hook while I penetrate you with my strapon.

Yeah.

You always asked me to give you my rosebud: you dumped me because I denied it to you. I was simply afraid. My father made me understand it.

And you always demanded that I dance for you, undressing me as I twirled and swayed in my heels, at the risk of spraining my ankle.

Well, your selfishness is about to take a turn.

Anal, you can get it, after you concede your rosebud to me: I will look into your eyes and swear I will stop if you use Safeword.

Other stripteases, you can get in the future, but only after we agree on how to explore our kinky fantasies.

By communicating together.

By talking together.

Without running off to Rome with your friends.

Without insulting me, telling me that I am vanilla, basic, average, ordinary, boring. I am not Vanilla. I am much kinkier than you might imagine, but we haven't told each other that yet.

This e-mail made me break at least four oaths I had made to four sweet friends. I hope that, as almost sisters, they will understand why I did it.

We both need to communicate more. I know you don't like to talk so much (the opposite of my father) but then draw me a picture, show me a video, and point me with your finger to a statue that interests you.

I love you, Jasper, with a feeling that is much more important than orgasms. And I don't want you to abandon me. I am not the Vanilla girl you thought I was. Maybe we will find out that I am much kinkier than you (my mother is much kinkier than my father, maybe it is a genetic marker running in the family).

I am waiting for your answer. I would like you to tell me that you love me too and that you would like me to join you in Rome. From Tuscany, it is a matter of a moment.

I love you. Signed: Margret.

##### Post Scriptum.

I wrote this email on the spur of the moment, elated from using the strapon for the first time. I still wear it: it gives me a feeling of strength, and I like to look at myself in the mirror. Penis envy? Maybe, I could accept it: but YOU should dare to tell me to my face (if you want to prove that you are not a coward).

Meanwhile, my father slept like a baby. Before sending you this email, I waited patiently for him to wake up. I asked for his consent because this violates his privacy.

My father replied that he has always esteemed you as an honest young man; and that he has no secrets to hide. He also asked me if I had described my emotions. I answered no.

He shook his head. "Margret, my Cub Bear..." [Jasper don't dare to use those three words to me! Never.].

I began again. "Margret, my Cub Bear. Trust is the key to everything: from kissing (your lips at the disposal of his teeth?!) to handcuffs, from simply undressing (vulnerability) to allowing a loving person to penetrate you.

You can't hide anything from him or her. You can't start a relationship based on a lie, it's like building a castle on sand" (after The Coldplay? Damn it's YOUR favorite band! I'm still mad at you).

Okay. I'll be honest. I'll tell you what emotions I had.

My father wants you to...

Isn't it strange to begin a sentence this way? It almost sounds as if I'm relating the usual "My Father Wants You To respect the curfew, home at 10 o'clock, French kissing allowed, Second base allowed with conditions, Third base vetoed, and... remember always he carries a gun."

No.

We are not that kind of family.

My father wants you to know that he taught me how to impale a man. He allowed me to use his body to experiment.

Oh don't worry, Jasper, I didn't "cheat" on you: I just pushed a plastic dildo inside the anus of a man lying down and handcuffed!

But there was no emotional involvement or falling in love on my part, I was thinking every moment about impaling YOU! (I was thinking of you with affection, not anger, at this particular time). (Ok. A little tad of anger. But good anger, of good type).

My pussy felt nothing (I was menstruating and wearing a tampon: less sexy than that! Yet the eyes of the man I was impaling looked at me as if I had been a Greek goddess). But, in my mind... My excitement was so strong. I felt like a Rockstar or a comic book Superheroine. The feeling of penetrating a body, moving my hips back and forth ... maybe I even said your name out loud.

My father wants you ... also ... to know that with my hands greased with lube, joined as if for prayer around his cock, I allowed him to spurt his semen onto his chest. I did not betray you: I merely helped a very aroused man, who was receiving intense physical stimulation, to ejaculate. He was handcuffed and could not get the release on his own. I don't want to lie to you and I don't want to hide anything from you: I masturbated him. Briefly, because he was already at the climax, and he spurted almost immediately.

And then do you know what he told me? He told me (quietly, like it was cream in the tea) that Mother often asks him to swallow his own semen. So I picked it up off his chest and made him lick it off my fingers. And that, too, was an incredible thrill...I was thinking how much I would have liked it to be YOUR tongue licking my fingertips, and digging greedily between the knuckles to collect yet another drop of YOUR sperm...the one you always insist on making ME swallow.

I don't think I have cheated on you. I believe I had a sexual (physical) experience with a person I trust and with whom I am not in love because I always think of you.

And then, using YOUR logic, we are not engaged today, you dumped me and therefore, today I am just a lonely spinster, so from the strictly legal point of view that you like so much, I cannot cheat on you.

If you believe that these gestures of mine constitute a crime of cheating, you are free to think so.

But let me ask you a question, Jasper: today one of us is a shy, vanilla fearful child, but which one of us?

I would like you to answer me, even a hint (I know you don't like to write), even a simple " Bye forever, You Whore," but don't leave me unanswered: we had been good friends for a long time, now I deserve an answer.

Now I'm going to the couch to masturbate myself. The thought of impaling you in front of your astonished (and harmless) friends turns me on. But let's set boundaries right away.

I don't want an orgy. No Cuckolding. I don't care if your friends masturbate while watching me pegging you. The only condition is that no one has to touch me and that if they (eventually) ejaculate semen, then each of them will be expected to swallow his own.

Are my words surprise you?

This is the New Margret.

Like the Old Margret, the New Margret loves only you, is in love with you, and wants to explore sex in all possible and imaginable kinks, only with you.

I love you. A kiss. Margret.

#### [A short time later] [not part of the letter, but it is the epilogue, at least for that day]

While her father, after a newborn's nap, had gone to take a shower in the bathroom, Margret was in the living room, naked on a towel over the couch, caressing her pussy with two fingers while watching a porn movie of an average girl pegging her boyfriend.

She had already seen others that day, but they were either too cruel or unnecessarily baroque and complicated (with dominatrix uniforms and annoying heels), instead, these were two ordinary amateurs: she had a slightly fat butt, and he had a beer belly and a badly shaved beard... they seemed perfect to her.

Her left hand was moving the mouse, while her right hand was stroking her pussy: Margret didn't want to reach orgasm right away, she was content for the moment to stimulate enough to maintain a decent level of physical arousal combined with the excitement of the video. The audio, in particular, was nice: the girl was giggling while smiling and the boy seemed happy. Nothing humiliating or particularly painful.

A message from Jasper appeared.

"Timely, but brief!" thought Margret.

The message read: "J 😈 , M 🤦 ‍♀️... 🧎 ‍♂️ 👩 ‍ 🦯 ! 🧳,💃? 💖 "

Margret was too happy to have received an answer to be seriously upset. She muttered to herself, "Males! I write him an email of two thousand two hundred words, and he replies with a handful of pictograms."

Fortunately, she had a male to rely on, and it was certainly not her goofy brother Kurt.

"Daaaaaaddy!!! If Jasper writes me "J 😈 , M 🤦 ‍♀️... 🧎 ‍♂️ 👩 ‍ 🦯 ! 🧳 , 💃? 💖 ", what do you think it means? Are you capable of translating hieroglyphics?"

From the shower, the father poked his head out. "Let me see...you know that males are very visual..."

The father chuckled, smiling. "Ah, he's such a good boy, I'm very proud of him."

Margret was becoming an impatient brat. "Dad, will you translate it for me, or do I have to rip your eye out?"

"Of course my Cub Bear. Part One: 😈 Smiling Face with Horns! 🤦 ‍♀️ Woman Facepalming, three dots of suspension. Translation: Jasper was horny as hell and too selfish (with mischievous eyes), while Margret seemed coy and scandalized by any idea or kinks: facepalm.

Part Two: Man Kneeling and Woman with White Cane. Jasper is ready to kneel down in front of you, almost as if it were an invitation to a Gentle Femdom Relationship, and he accepts that you advance toward him holding the dildo (there is no emoji in the whole world, representing a woman wearing a strapon, at least, I think: but the woman's stick seems obvious to me)."

"Shut up! No mansplaining, Dad!"

"Okay, okay. Part Three: If you want to join him in Rome, pack your bags and join him Luggage and Woman Dancing If you answer yes to this message, however, there is a demand from Jasper: he asks that you still agree to dance for him (the icon shows a woman in a red dress but I gather from the context that it would be a strip tease). In my opinion, this seems like a good sign, because unconditional surrender is never a constructive basis for sincere dialogue.

You know, Cub, I think he genuinely likes to see you dance (and slowly undress: let him wait!), and it's not important that you're an artist, but that you do it from the heart.

And I think he needs to improve his listening skills because he hasn't realized that you don't have any baggage.

Oh! Fool me! He wants me to bring you at least the borrowed strapon! [Margret giggled].

Part Four, if you respond positively to Jasper's request, his heart will sparkle with joy, Sparkling Heart."

"That was the only part I understood, it was easy."

"Well, no, because that icon is also used for two other meanings: you see, Cub Bear, the open labia take the shape of a red heart: in this case, it means he will lick it off you until it is shiny and glistening. However, the glans, seen from below, also resembles a red heart, so maybe Jasper means that right now he has the knob all shiny with precum..."

"Dad! No Mansplaining!"

"But Cub, today you can shush me, but tomorrow you can't be so castrating to your Jasper. You have to encourage him to communicate. Otherwise, he will continue to take refuge in his cave. Will you promise to let him talk and listen to him?

"Yes, Dad. But how may you translate hieroglyphics?"

"Don't you remember I used to read you Kipling's Just So Stories For Little Children, all the time? Now it's the same.

I always care for you, Cub. And I trust in Jasper... he is a good boy... you'll see it's going to be a good adventure."

THE END.

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