My First Night Back From College

The clouds erupted amidst charcoal skies as I stood under an awning outside my college dorm. As always, Daddy arrived prepared, with a wide, black umbrella open and in hand when he stepped out. He gave it to me and I held it over us as he lifted my bags into the back of his SUV.

"You're just like your mother," he teased. "Coming back with more junk than when you left." I had bought some new clothes that semester, but I didn't think I had amassed too much more stuff. I'm sure he was just happy to see me, and missed picking on me. I missed it too.

The ride back was filled with small talk, with him filling me in about the progress on his newest book, our neighborhood gossip, and how bad the cooking was since I'd left. I told him about my new part-time job in the student union coffee shop, the garage band I'd joined, and how different the weather was from home. Once courtesies were exchanged, Daddy reached over, squeezed my hand, and then patted my knee, just below the hemline of my skirt.

"I've missed you so much, baby," he said. "I don't know if the Skype sessions make it better or worse."

Daddy and I had a secret. Shortly after I left home for college, we confessed something that we had each kept hidden inside for a long time. It began with playful teasing and flirting, but blossomed into a new and different relationship with activities that are not considered appropriate between a father and daughter. As the rain subsided and the late afternoon sun fought to break through the gray clouds, I remembered those early conversations and smiled.

Our "first time" was via Skype, and after that, any barrier that had existed was down, and we got together regularly for secret play time. As summer break approached, we avoided discussing it, but I wondered what would happen when we were back together in the same house. Little did I know that I would soon find out.

Back home, I settled back into the family routine quickly, and soon I had dinner on the table. Sure, I was 19 now and living away from home, but I still had chores when I returned, including cooking a few times a week. I had honed my skills to a point where my meals were more popular than Mom's. She didn't mind, since it gave her a break, and she was really more of a frozen food chef anyway. It only bugged her when Dad joked about me replacing her as lady of the house.

After dinner, Mom retreated to the bedroom with her Kindle, and Dad went to his office to put in more work on his book. I took over the couch and caught up on my Netflix TV shows. Around 11, I left the TV on to mask the sound of my steps and crept down the hall to Daddy's study. His desk faced the door, so I wasn't able to sneak up on him. He looked up, smiled, and waved me in.

I sat on his lap, hugged him tight like my favorite teddy bear, and kissed him. Since Mom wasn't around to see, I kissed him on the mouth. It was okay to do that when I was little, but around my 11th birthday, Mom started discouraging it. Now that I was a big girl, we did it once in a while when she wasn't looking. It was one of our fun little secrets.

"I've been waiting all day to do this," I whispered, and I pushed my tongue against his lips.

The Skype conversations at school had led to flirting, and later even more amazing shared experiences, but not being in the same room limited what we could truly do. I had been fantasizing about this opportunity for months.

As we kissed, he slid a hand underneath my shirt, across my flat belly, and up to my breast, where he tantalizingly stroked my nipple with his strong fingers. I lost all thoughts of being discreet, and any plans to tease him slowly were long gone. I slid off his lap and rushed to open his pants, and he smiled and watched me fumble with his belt buckle and zipper. He knew how badly I wanted to do this. I needed to have him this way. I had told him so over and over again on the webcam.

I positioned myself on the small rug beneath his leather desk chair and knelt between his legs. His pants finally removed, I looked up into his bright, green eyes and gripped his partially stiff cock. Licking it up and down, I slid my hand over the shaft, quickly working him into a full erection. He put his hand on the back of my head, and breathed deeply as I took him into my mouth for the first time.

I had given head before. This wasn't my first blow job, as he had assured me it was okay to do this with college boys that I liked. But this was the one I had dreamed about for a long time. I finally had my Daddy's thick, rippled cock in my mouth. I dragged the veined, pulsing underside against the full breadth of my warm tongue, then sucked the head like a lollipop.

I slowly took him down as deep as I could, managing to fit his full length into my mouth. I relaxed my throat and felt him pressing against the muscles, sliding his dick all the way in. Daddy's soft moans told me I was doing it the way he liked. I maintained eye contact just like he had taught me.

Up and down, slowly, his hands on my head to guide me, I let Daddy fuck my mouth. I knew he was getting close when he started leaning forward in his chair, bucking his hips, thrusting faster, and pulling tighter on my head. He got a little rough at the end, clutching my head harder and jerking against my face. I liked that.

I stopped for just a moment and kept staring into his eyes.

"I want it, daddy," I said. "Let me have it."

"Yes, baby girl," he groaned. "Almost there."

I returned his cock to my mouth and sucked the length of him, up and down, as fast as I could until I felt him begin to throb. I locked my lips over his stiffness and let him unload in my mouth, not wanting to waste a drop. Feeling the spasms of his cock and the splashing of his hot cum on the back of my throat was amazing. It was everything I had dreamed it might be.

I swallowed all of it, sucking the last drops from the tip and licking him clean as he groaned and leaned back in his chair. Looking up at him, I smiled and whispered, "That's not the last time," as I got up and crept back to my room.