Late Bloomer

Author's Note: I published the story on a different account.

Author's note: Characters in this story are 18+. Also, I made em all up. This story is incest and noncon. If you're looking for a, "give it to me, daddy!" kind of story.. this isn't it. Don't read it if you aren't looking to read a nonconsent story between a father and a daughter. Okay, let's do this thing.

Golden light shone through the elms outside my window, making patterns on my bedsheets and across my desk. The trees had been there forever, like a fence around our small clearing of land. Their infamous sap wreaked havoc with paint jobs. Both of us grew together. We both had roots, neither of us able to leave.

It wasn't a surprise when I didn't move out at eighteen right away. I was a late bloomer. Lost my baby teeth late. Got my period late. My tits came in late and even then, barely enough to round them out along the bottom, curving them like teardrops.

My brothers always called me the runt. Daddy pushed my brothers out making them get jobs but he coddled me. That's what my brothers called it.

She's too sensitive to leave. Daddy would say. Said he was protecting me from things I couldn't handle.

Our cabin had three rooms and a loft. Nestled amongst the trees a mile off a thin, moth-eaten road. Daddy built this place with his bare hands before I was alive. This place used to be a small shack, his bedroom.

Once my brothers were on their way he made plans. Went into town and bought lumber, nails, and more tools. There are photos of his muscled back working hard throughout the summer adding on a kitchen, a real bathroom, a nursery. By the time I came along the whole house had been built for a few years.

Plenty of people call daddy names. Hillbilly, shut in, hermit, etc. But he always took care of his kids when the women he loved never would. Three boys and one girl, me. Four kids with three different mothers.

My oldest brothers, twins, Freddie and Frankie were born to a blonde lady daddy loved in high school. Daddy took the twins and let her graduate and go off and be something while he stayed behind. Next, Walter was born of a dark-haired woman daddy described as a "business type" and she didn't wanna lose her job. So she hid her pregnancy and worked from home during the last few months. She lives in New York City, working for some bank. Then there was me, Zura Beth. Daddy says of all the women he's loved and laid, my mama was the most bat shit of all of them. And he loved her ten times more than the rest.

I have a picture of her by my bed in a little gold frame. Red hair and freckles, daddy's all tan and tattooed scooping her into his broad arms. Both of them sweating in the summer sun.

Sometime after I turned eighteen, daddy would slip into my room at night, sit with me on the bed and hold the picture. Smiling and telling me stories about her. I'd sit and listen, gobbling up whatever information he could give me about her until he was done.

The picture would go back on the shelf. He'd look me up and down and slide my nightgown up or pull the covers back. Depending on his mood, he could be sweet and loving. Gentle and slow. Or, he'd yank me up and go at it for all it was worth and if one of my brothers was home I'd worry they could hear daddy's balls slapping against me. If they ever heard, they never came looking.

Daddy couldn't help it. I look like her. My red hair falling in ringlets down my back. It draped over my tits when he bent me over the desk. I always stared at the elms and waited for it to be over. Daddy's tight grip on my hips as he rocked in and out of me, hunching me like a dog.

He never did say much as he did it and he never talked about it after. It was like he was addicted to my private parts and it was our secret.

***

I kept busy in my room. Projects of all sorts piled up everywhere. My books took up a lot of room. Clay for sculpting. A typewriter. Sewing. Knitting. Embroidery. Whatever I wanted, daddy would get it for me as long as it wasn't a computer or a phone. He didn't believe in that stuff. Believed we weren't meant to all be connected. Too much noise.

Daddy wasn't much for noise. He'd put on an Otis Redding album or Junior Wells or Elvis. Late at night when I was supposed to be in bed. Even at eighteen, he'd get onto me if I was up past eleven. "There ain't no reason that a girl should be up later than a grown man," he'd say.

He'd help me sleep. The last time I was caught in the kitchen at midnight, he'd lectured me all the way back to my room.

He'd yanked my nightgown up until my tits were showing, shoved himself inside of me and rocked in and out so slowly I was forced to spread my legs wider and push back on him myself. I normally stood still. Let it happen to me. But he tortured me until I was fucking him back. I felt disgusting afterward.

Always did. I'd go to the tiny bathroom across the hall, run hot water over a washcloth, and clean his and my cum out of me. My lips all pink and swollen as I did.

Daddy used to fuck me on my back more. Back when it was still new and I'd babble cause I didn't know what was going on. He didn't have the words to calm me so he'd hold me, shush me as he continued fucking me. The first time I'd been so caught off guard by the time he started thrusting I began to try and shove him off. It was the only time he said anything, "It's okay, baby. It's okay." Never stopping. Never explaining how my body worked or what it meant when I felt his cock jerk inside of me or the warm spurts.

****

It had been raining for three weeks. Flooding out the roads and dropping the temperatures into the 40s. Our house wasn't made for the cold. The whole place wheezed with the air coming in and freezing us.

Raining off and on again all morning, I'd opened my window to let in the fresh smell of rain. Letting the chill reach my collar bone and shoulders where I'd stretched my sweater out. I sat there in my sweater alone, no pants or panties with my knees up to my chest as I rolled clay between my hands. I was sculpting a monster for a short story idea I had.

I mixed greens and blues when I heard the front door slam and the thud of footfalls in my hallway. I'd barely sat the clay down when my door opened and daddy was behind me, grabbing ahold of my elbow and steering me to the bed. His face was taught, angry but not at me. I was never afraid he'd hurt me.

I complied quietly. My butt jiggling as I stumbled, to the foot of the bed and bent, over the edge. Daddy hooked his foot around my ankle and spread my legs wide for him. My pink pussy on full display for him. Daddy's thick fingers ran over my lips making me whimper, one pushing inside of me and gliding in and out.

Change in his pocket clattered as his pants fell to the floor. I braced myself. I wasn't afraid he would hurt me, he made sure I was wet before shoving himself in but it didn't change the fact that his cock was thick. Much easier to take when he fucked me nightly instead of once a week.

The tip of his cock replaced where his fingers had been, smearing my wetness around my clit. I yipped as he pressed into the sensitive nub. Moaning and pushing myself back a bit trying to take more of a cock that wasn't even inside of me yet.

Daddy slipped the head of his cock right to my entrance and barely pushed. He'd been doing this more and more lately. I muttered, whimpering and waiting but he didn't move until I pushed back. My hips angling and humping back toward him. I wanted him inside of me. I hated that I wanted it but I did. He chuckled and pushed forward, his hand on the middle of my back as if he needed to hold me down.

He sank into me slow, letting my cunt stretch and take in his thick cock. Daddy's hairy stomach bristled against my ass as he began to hump me. I could feel my lips gripping him as he pulled himself out, only to sink back in. Again and again.

The bed began to squeak, the golden frame tapping against the wall always turned me red immediately. My dad was fucking me. I was being fucked and if anyone was in the house, they'd know. I lied to myself that nobody else could know but daddy didn't do much to hide it. He didn't even shut the door half the time. Somehow, it turned me on even more and I pushed back against him.

Daddy pushed my sweater up, freeing my tits to jiggle as he pounded me from behind. Once when he was drunk, he'd told me how my mother would run from him and he'd catch her and fuck her while she giggled and squealed. How she was easily embarrassed, like me, and he'd make her pull her shirt up so he could watch her tiny tits jiggle as he fucked her. I remember how after he was done describing fucking her in detail, how horny I'd been. How much I wanted to crawl onto daddy's lap and take him right then but couldn't. Instead, I bent over in front of him, sat unladylike on the couch, letting my skirt drift up my thighs.

When he was close, daddy would growl. I'm not even sure he knew he was doing it. His fingernails dug into my hips, grabbing fistfuls and pounding into me. My bed thunking against the wall, his cock slurping in and out of me, his heavy sack bumping against me, we made a hell of a noise. Daddy growled, leaning over my back. His arms slipped around me. His thrust became slower, pressing deep into me and holding himself there. Occasionally he'd hump hard even though he could push himself in no further. My nipples pressed against the hairy fur that covered his arms.

Hot breath and grunts against my ear, I felt him shake a little. The cock inside of me twitching and the familiar warm spurts inside of me.

Both of us lay there as he finished. The sun had come back out and was outlining elms on our skin. He planted a little kiss on the back of my neck and pulled out, his hand on the middle of my back. Holding me in that perfect position, bent over and exposed. He liked watching his thick cum run out of his daughter's pussy.

I buried my red face in the sheets as I felt it running out of me. Knowing every inch of me was exposed to him. He'd just been inside of me and still, this embarrassed me. I could hear him move behind me and his breath was on my cunt, planting small kisses down my slit. He planted a few on my thighs and on my ass, leaving a little trail of our cum.

After he was gone, I went to my small bathroom across the hall. Warm water ran over the washcloth and I worked it gently between my legs. I enjoyed the feeling against my puffy cunt. Lately, I'd been feeling a little more tender. My tits were filling out a bit more and couldn't take much abuse. Since this whole thing started, I'd read books. Knew what it all meant. I wasn't sure how to tell daddy.

Author chat; This short and sweet story came to me when I was laying in bed. I live in the woods, surrounded by elms and all sorts of trees. The light can only be described as gold. It's blinding. Everyone bitches about the elm tree sap even though they all know not to park underneath it. I tend to think a lot about what it would be like to be cut off from everything. No internet, no nothin. I hope you guys liked reading it. I liked writing it.