Porn Star's Daughter Ch. 16 - Epilogue

She stood there, her fidgeting reduced to a minimum. She knew I was right, and her reaction told me that I had nailed it. She really would have celebrated my suicide as a victory for eliminating the competition. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

I waved a hand in dismissal. "Too little, too late, Simone," I said, matter-of-factly. "He's embarrassed by you. If you knew what he sacrificed, how he suffered, just to have you try to torment his other daughter, you wouldn't even be here asking such a stupid question."

Simone flinched as if I had physically slapped her. "So, why did he fuck you?" she asked, meekly.

It was a good question. I wasn't even sure I knew the answer, myself. Maybe it was because I reminded him of the relationship he was developing with Zoey. I certainly looked like her in a close-enough manner. Maybe it was because he could connect and relate with me in a new and unique way. Maybe it was because we had a stronger connection than any of us knew for longer than we knew. Maybe it was all of those things. Or maybe it was something else.

Whatever it was, it wasn't the sex. It was more than that. It's not the cock, it's the man. It's not the man, it's the cock.

A thought struck me, and I found an answer to Simone's question. "Simone," I said, as if talking through basic math problems to a child. "It's not just the pussy, it's the woman. It's not just the woman, it's the pussy."

She blinked, uncomprehending. Her mouth opened and shut, unsure of what to say. I reached for the door and opened it for her.

"It's time for you to go," I said, not leaving room for argument or negotiation. "You really should not come back."

She walked by me, and I finally noticed how awkward she was walking. I couldn't get over the fact that she had been standing there with a plug up her ass. I had a mental image of my father rage-fucking her while the princess plug peeked out, but wasn't sure whether I liked the fantasy or not.

Forgetting the particular features of the door, I tried to slam it. The door raced closed until it hit the hydraulics and slowed to a crawl, then shut with a soft, anti-climactic click.

Dammit.

I thought about Simone for the rest of the day. Try as I might, I couldn't find sympathy for the girl. I knew she had been mistreated, but her reaction to her situation had been to gleefully torture another innocent person. This seemed to be her general modus operandi. The fact that that innocent person was me meant that I had every right to remain unemotional about her plight.

You gotta problem with that? Team Shutupandfuckme asked.

Nope. Team Morality replied.

That settled, I pondered what she had done from a detached perspective. I wouldn't even know how her proposal would have worked, logistically speaking. Share my bed with Simone? The very thought made me retch.

My own possessiveness surprised me. Somehow I had gone from being completely content as a loner and independent, to feeling a very strong bond with my father that went beyond being his daughter. I was also his lover, and the secret we shared about our sexual relationship seemed to increase that possessiveness in some way.

At some point I had made up my mind that I would be there for him, for as long as possible. I would take care of him, make him a home, care for him, give him my body and soul. For the first time in my life, I felt complete.

Gone was the girl I had been just a few months before. I had been hiding too many sides to myself, too many pieces of the puzzle that didn't seem to fit - at least, they didn't until he came into my life in a different way.

I was a pervert, a freak. I was immature and inexperienced. However, I was also intelligent and an overachiever. I was loyal and my years of being a caring support for my mother lent itself well to taking on the role for my father, too. I loved him, and he loved me. My body was his, and his was mine.

Like I said, for the first time in my life I felt complete.

That night, he took me in his arms in bed. I knew what was coming, and I felt myself get wet in anticipation. I felt like one of Pavlov's dogs.

Mmmm... Doggie style! Team SUAFM crowed.

Nevertheless, one of our favorite positions was to lie in a spooning angle, where he could slide into me and I could twist on my side so that he could play with my nipples and kiss me at the same time. We had made a game about how many different ways he could make me orgasm, and so far this had been our favorite position to do so.

My father's cock eased into my pussy, now used to his massive girth and length, and I accommodated him easily. We kissed, and I dropped a hand to my clit to stroke it. He moved it away, though, and said, "I want to try something."

I always loved it when he said that. I lay my hands above my head and he adjusted his arm so that he fell on top of them, pinning me down, and giving him access to my nipple furthest away with that hand. He caressed my breast lightly, keeping my nipple square between his thumb and forefinger but not touching it yet. I shifted my weight a little, only to find that he had me more secured and immobile than I first thought possible.

Trusting him, I relaxed and let him work his magic. His hands ran over my torso, and traced his fingertips up and down from my belly button to my nipples. My body tensed as the ticklish feeling nearly made me convulse. I managed to avoid doing that, though, but by feeling my abdomen clench, I was pinching his cock as tight as I could.

"I had a feeling that might happen," he said.

I giggled. "You did, huh?" I asked. "Well, you were right."

His hand raised up my torso and I felt his fingertips take both nipples in their grip at the same time.

Yes! My nipples screamed. Hard and erect as always, they never tired of being played with. He slid up inside me as far as he could, and I tried to bear down on the root to get my lips to spread as far as they could.

"You have the best nipples I've ever had the good fortune to play with," he said. I felt like he was quoting some movie but I wasn't sure, and I didn't care enough to ask. The last thing I wanted was for him to lose focus on my nipples.

My nipples. My traitorous, obnoxious, erect nipples. The part of my body that incessantly caused embarrassment, that I had tried to hide underneath padded bras for as long as I needed bras in the first place. The part of my body that shamed me in every t-shirt I'd ever owned.

He loved them.

"Don't ever stop playing with them," I said, owning the pleasure and his attraction to them. "They are always begging for you."

He smiled a huge smile and I could feel his cock flex and jump inside me. As large as he was, it felt like a long ripple enter my cunt and roll up into my ribcage, ending in a tight squeeze on my nipples.

I gasped, never having experienced such a thing before.

"You like that?" he asked, rhetorically.

"Again!" I gasped. He did.

"Again!" I shouted, and he obliged.

He started working out a rhythm, rolling his muscular cock and pinching my nipples. I had the crazy notion of a carnival game, where you hit the pad with a hammer and the lights shoot up until the bell rings.

Every time he did that, a bell rung for me. I could almost hear the carnival barker shouting to the imaginary crowd: We have a winnah!

Then, he just did it over and over again, and I found myself wanting to reach for something to hold on to as the waves of pleasure began to crest, but my arms were pinned over my head. Every time it ended a new wave begun. It was a completely alien feeling, as he wasn't actually fucking me. He was just flexing and twitching his cock, and because my pussy was so tight it just felt like a rolling wave. The pinching of the nipples just seemed to -

"Ohhhh," I heard myself moan. At that point, it was the only sound I could make, but it seemed to be all he needed.

My orgasm seemed to build from outside my body, in a bizarre change of pace. There was no other way to describe it - it felt like my father was injecting my orgasm into my pussy, which then rolled up through my torso to my nipples, where it got a second wind and then straight up my neck.

I arched my back so that I could feel the full length, moaning once again. I came again. And again, and again.

They rolled in me, over me, through me. I couldn't stop coming, couldn't feel where one ended and another begin. I lost track of time, even lost track of where I was. Everything was climax, nothing else existed.

I don't know if I heard it or felt it first, but my father grunted and his cock seemed to grow like the Grinch's heart inside of me, and then I felt gushes of fluid spread into every crevice in my body.

Opening my eyes (I didn't even know I had closed them), I looked over at him. He was shiny with sweat and effort, with a huge smile plastered on his face. He was obviously proud of himself.

He lifted his arm off of mine and I tried to touch him, but all I could manage was to flail my hand around and slap him uselessly on his hip. He laughed.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I couldn't hold out any longer. You just looked so sexy when you came like that."

"Oh my god!" I panted, wondering how I could have possibly run out of breath simply by lying and not moving. "I don't know how much longer I could have survived!"

"Death by orgasm," he said, laughing.

"Sign me up!" I said, and then calmed myself and looked at him directly in the eyes. I could still feel his cock throbbing inside me, probably depositing more come than I had room to take. The sheets were going to be a mess.

His smile turned warm and sweet. "Shannon," he said. "I promise you I'll make it all up to you. If I had known how hard it was for you..."

His voice trailed off, but I pulled him closer to me to kiss him. It was awkward in that position, but I don't think either one of us minded as our lips brushed together. Neither one of us made a move to extract his penis from my body.

"It's okay now," I said. "I'm okay now. You're everything I need, and I can give you everything you need."

I wiggled my hips for emphasis, and we both laughed. I could feel him soften a little, but his length was preventing him from falling out. I had to admit I kind of liked the sensation of being able to keep him inside me even if he wasn't hard.

He brushed the hair out of my face, and kissed me again.

"Howdy, cupcake," he said, softly.

"Howdy, Doody," I replied, giving our personal inside joke a completely new life.

Something occurred to me. After all this time, there was still one question I didn't know the answer to.

"Dad?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Yes, cupcake?" he answered.

"The video that you did, who won?"

He looked perplexed. "Who won?" he repeated back to me. "Who won what?"

"The contest," I replied. "Who deep-throated you and won?"

His jaw set a little as he tried to remember. Then, he started to break out into a grin. "No one won," he said.

"What?" I said, surprised. "No one was able to deep throat you?"

He smiled and shook his head. "No, sweetie," he said. "No one has ever been able to take me all the way to the root. Except one person."

I thought about how Tracy had gone really far down his cock that fateful night. She had gotten close, almost to the end. She couldn't quite make it as far as...

I looked at him in wonder. "You mean, I won?"

His smile broadened. He looked so goddamned cute. "Yes, baby," he said.

"Don't lie to me," I warned, pretending to be stern. "I still have the video. I can check to see-"

He cut me off with a kiss, and I cupped his face and returned it. His kiss was like a mind eraser, and all I could feel was the warmth and tenderness behind it. It was such a complete feeling, to be kissed by him.

"Um," I moaned in a whisper. "What was I saying?"

He chuckled, his chest vibrating against me. These little moments, the tiny movements that he probably didn't even realize I noticed - they just made me melt.

I turned a little so that he could wrap his muscular arms around me. I was completely enclosed by my father's body, his penis still lodged inside of the tight walls of my vagina. I had never felt so safe and secure in my entire life.

Sleep was beginning to overtake me, a feeling of pure relaxation. I momentarily flashed back through everything that had happened since that fateful day that Simone tried to get me suspended for having the video that she gave me, and how much things had changed.

I thought about how I had been attacked and abused, belittled and betrayed, about how I had managed to fight back and not allow myself to be a victim. I settled back against my father's chest, and started to feel him breathe deeper as sleep started to collect him as well.

Before I allowed myself to succumb to dreams, though, I couldn't help but relish the pride in my accomplishments. After years of planning and a sadistic turn of torture, Tracy had not gotten her way. She had lost. Sleep finally took me, but not before one last epiphany.

I won.