The Case of the Sleepwalking Daddy

My eyes suddenly grew big. Whoooaaah! This was some news. I wrote "first whoopee" in my notebook with a flourish.

My aunt continued. "They had meant to wait until marriage, but she said his gesture was so sweet, so loving, that when he handed her the sandwich, she said yes and kissed him." Again she was silent, almost as though she were trying to edit the story in her mind. "She told me the kiss was the best they'd ever had. She said... that she couldn't resist. Didn't want to resist. Sweetie, on that day they shared their love for each other the first time. Do you know what that means?"

"Sure," I lied, "but that's only one sandwich. You said there were as many as eighteen."

"Well," she said, her voice warming to a beloved memory, "it became a tradition. His yearly affirmation of his love for her. Your grandmother liked to compare it to Jesus washing that woman's feet, but I think that's going a bit too far. I mean, your dads great and all..."

I laughed and said, "Yeah. Definitely NOT Jesus." I tried to picture my dad in sandals and long hair.

"But as close as they come in this world, kiddo. How else do you think your father and I have gotten along over the years? We're as different as they come... It's because he is a good man, and he loved your mother with a love unlike any I've ever seen."

I swear I heard a little note of sadness there at the end. God, had anyone found a love like my mom and dad? All the more tragic that he lost her.

Now I had my info. But what to do with it? After saying goodbye to Aunt Megan, I went and sat in my beanbag chair to think. So much to consider!

Just then Julie came by! Uggghhh! Terrible timing. I mean I love her to death, and we are besties forever, but now was not the time to gossip about school or what we were going to wear to the winter formal. Now was the time for sleuthing! I had things to think about.

But no luck. Julie had already planned a trip to the mall, and six other girls were on board. Have you ever tried saying 'no' to Julie? Not possible, my friend. Not possible.

So I just got back from the mall, and it's late. Almost time to go to bed. And I haven't really had time to think about everything I've learned.

And more importantly, what is going to happen tonight?

* * * * * * *

December 12, early morning – Dear Diary:

Well, he came into my room again last night. I'm writing today because I fell asleep. My mind is kind of blurry right now, and last night kinda seems like a dream. I'll try to write what happened.

Daddy came in again and started making his sandwich. I was feeling really strange. Like a mix of fear at what might happen and... well and... excitement, if I want to tell the truth. I mean, it was so weird that dad had kissed me, but I also couldn't forget the strange feelings in my tummy and the hot electric wetness of my woo-woo.

So I just sat there watching him with big eyes. For some reason I was more aware of his body, the way his arm and shoulder muscles flexed as he moved. The way his hip flexor muscles vee'd down into the waistband of his boxers. The way his... oh God, what am I writing?

Anyway, clearly I am fucked up this morning. I'll just tell you what happened, okay Diary?

After he was done with the sandwich, he came and sat by me. Again. I was statue still. Should I wake him up? I should wake him up. But you're not supposed to wake a sleepwalker, right?

But my lips were tingling with memory. And I felt a warm liquid feeling gush deep in my tummy.

Suddenly, he reached behind my head and kissed me again. Only this time I knew what was coming. I was less shocked and more able to enjoy. And oh God did I enjoy.

As his tongue plunged into my mouth, I reached out and grabbed his biceps, pulling him closer. One of his hands was behind my neck, and the other rested on my waist.

It was all happening again. I was wet down there again. I could feel it. Very wet. But for some reason I didn't feel ashamed. I felt sexy. The way he was kissing me... just taking me... made me feel like a true woman.

Don't laugh, Diary. You of all people know that I have no experience. All I can say is that I got swept up in the moment. Tasting his tongue deep. Breathing in the smell of his cologne, and under, something more primal, more manly. And now his left hand moved upwards from my waist. Cupping my right tit.

My eyes went wide. Should I stop this? This was so fucking wrong.

Yet my body was singing a different song. Oh God. My nipples were hard and sensitive, sending electric jolts with his every caress. He was squeezing and stroking my tit now, pausing to pinch and twist my hot little nipples.

I could feel the hot liquid flowing freely from my woo-woo.

Look, Diary. I know about sex, okay? I know the biology. But knowing and feeling are two very different things. Knowing that the female of the species releases lubrication in her vagina in order to facilitate penetration is very different from actually creaming your undies!

I mean, I knew why biologically, but it didn't change the fact that my little woo-woo was gushing warm juice! And all of this because my daddy was french-kissing the shit out of me, and massaging my tit like a horny teen-ager!

I was starting to feel overwhelmed. Like I was feeling something start to build up inside... something that wanted to be released, when he stopped again and looked into the distance. After his short pause, he stood up and went back to bed.

I just laid there, my eyes hooded with lust. My lips swollen and tingly. And my little cunny... oh God it was so hot and bothered! And wet! So much juice, still flowing out. And my right tit was afire. The nipple still sending signals to my woo-woo and back. Still remembering the strong hands of my father.

I laid back, my body on fire, and I fell into fevered dreams.

Dear Lord, Diary, what is happening to me?

* * * * * * *

December 12, bedtime – Dear Diary:

Well, this is my second diary entry today. It's about ten minutes before bed time and I'm scared shitless. What the hell am I going to do? I can't wake him, yet if this keeps on going like this he's eventually going to... well, let's be honest. He's probably going to fuck me.

Oh God, why did my traitor woo-woo suddenly start tingling when I wrote that? This is so fucked up.

I don't know how to feel about this. The crazy thing is, I don't even have a choice. Like it or not, if this goes on, he's going to fuck me. He's going to rape me.

So shouldn't I be more scared? I mean, I am definitely freaked out, but I don't really feel scared. Not like the way I do when I feel like I'm in danger. In fact, to be perfectly honest, I also feel a little excited. I mean, I understand the biology of sex, but the reality is WAY more interesting.

Then it came to me. The way out.

All I had to do was sleep somewhere else. Go downstairs and sleep on the couch. Or maybe even outside on the hammock. Daddy would come in, and there would be no one to molest. Problem solved.

So I got ready for bed, brushed my teeth, washed my face, ect. I got my jammies on, which are really just loose cotton shorts and a comfy t-shirt. And I grabbed my diary and got into bed.

And so here I lay, writing to you, dearest Diary. Why am I not on the couch downstairs, or maybe the hammock?

I don't know. I really just don't know. But here I am.

Goodnight Diary.

* * * * * * *

December 13, morning – Dear Diary

Wow. I mean just... wow. I had no idea. I just never knew...

Okay, let me tell you what happened last night. Dear Lord, I can hardly believe it myself. I just never knew such feelings were possible. I have to admit I feel wonderful this morning. I've never felt better! I think it has something to do with what Daddy did to me last night.

So he made his sandwich, yet again, put it on a plate and cut it in half, then he came and sat next to me. I just sat there trembling, waiting for the wonderful kiss I knew was coming.

And when he leaned in to kiss me, I have to be honest. I kissed him back. Hard. I snaked my tongue into his hot mouth, loving the taste and smell of him. One hand gripped his shoulder, while I let the other stroke his muscular chest. God! He was overwhelming me with his manliness!

He started massaging my tittie, and my little cunny started dribbling again.

We just kept kissing, and it was wonderful. One of his huge hands was cupped behind my neck, but the other was now snaking under my shirt. I gasped as he palmed my naked tit. He started stroking and kneading both breasts, occasionally twisting the hard nubs of my nipples.

I was on fire! I've never felt that kind of feeling before. Like my whole body was suddenly hyped up. I was breathing harder, moaning into my daddy's mouth. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins and my heart was beating fast.

And I was starting to feel a strange, hot needy feeling between my legs. There was no question, my woo-woo wanted to be touched. Bad. It soon got its wish. And then some.

Because after only another minute or two of hot making out, he broke away. I almost gasped in disappointment, my swollen lips tingling.

He placed his hands on my shoulders and pushed me gently but irresistibly backwards. I had no idea what was about to happen! I don't know if I was more afraid or excited. Dear God what a mess all of this is!

I was now laying back on my pillows, looking down as Daddy slid his hands sensually down to my hips. There he grabbed ahold of the waistband of my shorts and pulled them down.

I almost screamed in panic! What could I do? I couldn't wake him, but I had never been touched down there! This was going way too far! But a part of my brain calmly replied, "What did you think was going to happen?"

But it didn't matter anyway. He was twice my size. He was going to do whatever he wanted to do, and there was nothing I could do about it.

After throwing my shorts on the floor, he completed my shame by splaying my legs obscenely wide. My little blond-tufted flower was exposed to the world. I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. My little pussy lips were red and slimy-wet! The hair around the little hole was matted and smeared with juice. And this from only a few minutes of kissing! What was Daddy doing to me?

And then he did something completely unexpected. He kissed my woo-woo. Just a sweet, tiny kitten-kiss right at the top.

And oh... yes. Yes, that was what I wanted. Touch. Yes, just that little kiss let me know. I wanted more. More of that right away.

And he obliged. God damn, did he oblige. He basically started began making out with my cunny. And I was in total heaven. Oh God how his tongue stroked into my hot little hole. How his lips nibbled and sucked at my tender pussy lips. And from time to time he would return to the top of my pussy to suck and lick the little button there.

My woo-woo was on fire. It just felt so fucking good! My clit was super-sensitive, but Daddy seemed to know not to overstimulate. He just kept lapping, going right to the edge of 'too much' then retreating again, plunging his hard tongue into my body, or just licking and sucking the juice directly from my super-horny little cunny.

Oh, it was good, Diary. So fucking good.

And it just kept getting better and better as I felt my body moving towards some kind of grand release. I could sense that some kind of explosion was eminent. He seemed to sense it too, because he stepped up the pace. Basically he went tongue-crazy on my tender little virgin pussy.

And I loved it. I was thrashing my head back and forth, unable to even control the movements of my body. And suddenly it happened. I went off the edge of a massive cliff.

All the nerve endings in my body seemed to fire all at once, sending a massive wash of intense pleasure directly to my core. I literally lost my mind for a second there! It was the most amazing feeling I've ever had! My tummy was clenched, and I could feel my hot little hole spasming and grasping, even as it gushed girl-juice.

And he just lapped it up. He drank deep of my orgasm. Tonguing. Licking. Sucking.

Oh my God it was good. It seemed to last forever. I was a twitching, moaning, drooling mess. And I fucking loved it.

Suddenly, Daddy once again lifted his head, as if hearing a distant call, and stood and left the room.

Leaving me a literal hot mess on the bed. What the fuck had just happened? I guess that was an orgasm. Somehow, the biology textbook had failed to communicate the reality of the event.

I just laid there, breathing hard, my little cunny twitching with aftershocks. I was in a daze. Confused, contented, euphoric, and a little guilty. God what a mess I am.

I fell asleep just like that. Legs wantonly splayed. Wet little pussy exposed to the cool night air. I didn't care. I was exhausted. My mind literally shut down from all the stimulation.

And now here I sit, writing the next day. What am I going to do, Diary? That was incest last night. There is no way to paint it any other way. My Daddy had his tongue in my pussy! That is not okay.

And yet. Oh dear God. That feeling he gave me. It was the hottest, most satisfying pleasure I've ever felt. Just writing about it now makes me want to feel it again. Makes my woo-woo hot and slick.

I think I may be addicted. I don't think I can stop now. I know it's wrong. I know Daddy would be so angry if he knew. But I honestly don't think I can live without that feeling again.

And soon.

* * * * * * *

December 18, several days later – Dear Diary:

Oh God. I'm the worst person in the world. What's wrong with me? I used to be normal. I used to be a good girl. You know this, Diary! I tell you everything!

But somehow I've come to this. Every night, for the last five nights, my Daddy comes to my bed and kisses me until my woo-woo is gushing. Then he leans me back and tongues my hot little pussy until I cum. And oh my God do I cum. It feels oh so good.

Every night for five nights now I have not only let my father put his tongue in my most secret of places. I have loved it. I mean it, Diary! I fucking love it.

And I love my Daddy more than ever. In the daylight hours, he treats me just as sweet and kind as always. I'm still his perfect little princess.

Oh, if only he knew. If only he knew that his innocent princess was receiving a man into her room every night. And that man was sucking her hot little cunt until she squirted pussy-juice into his mouth.

Pussy juice that he may have woken still tasting.

God, Diary, this is so fucked up. I see him eating breakfast and I want to walk up behind him and stroke his chest. I want to run my fingers through his hair. I want to kiss him deeply.

But instead I have to pretend that everything is normal.

And wait. Wait for the dark hours of the night, when he is mine. I know it's not real. I know he thinks I'm my mother. I don't care. I live for that short window of time every night. I feel so loved. I feel so womanly. God, he makes me feel complete!

He's watching me write in my diary right now, a fond smile on his face. Is there a little heat in his eyes? Something new simmering there? No. I'm imagining things. This is crazy! What if he somehow remembers that just ten hours ago his face had been buried in my gushing pussy, his tongue lapping me from asshole to clit-button?

Or worse, and I just thought of this... what if he wakes up in the middle of it? What would happen? What would he do? I feel goose-bumps just thinking about it. This situation is out of control! It must stop.

I'm going to stop it, okay Diary?

* * * * * * *

December 19, morning – Dear Diary:

I didn't stop it. I didn't go sleep elsewhere. And last night something new happened. Dear Lord I just keep getting in deeper and deeper!

Every night after he eats my pussy until I spaz out with orgasm, he scoots up and holds me while I recover myself. Each night that time stretched out a little longer before he was "called" back to his bed.

I was really starting to love that time almost as much as the orgasm. His strong arms comforted and calmed me. As my heartbeat came back down to normal, I felt safe in the nest of his arms. I felt loved and protected.

But last night, after our cuddle session, instead of going back to bed, he reached to the back of my head and gently pushed down. Now, maybe the woman in his dream was going along with it, but I had no idea what was happening.

But that didn't stop his thickly-muscled arm from putting my head where he wanted it, with or without my permission. And so I found myself staring at the front of his loose boxers.

It was fairly dark, with only the bathroom light to see by, but I could clearly see a thick cylinder outlined in the cloth of his boxers. Now, once again, I know what a penis is. I've seen drawings and diagrams in textbooks.

But nothing prepared me for the real thing as he reached down and pulled out his thing. I don't have anything to compare it to, but it seemed impossibly huge. It was so thick and veiny! Part of me was grossed out, but another part was fascinated and excited.

That part took over and I reached a trembling hand down to touch it. It was rock hard, like a muscle. But the skin was really, really soft. And it was hot! He moaned a little when I touched it.

Somehow that moan did it for me. I suddenly realized that now was my chance to give him pleasure like he had given me.

So I grabbed him firmly in my tiny fist. He moaned again and I felt the shaft expand in my hand a little. Suddenly I was overcome with a sense of womanly power. I was holding his most vulnerable part in my hands. I began experimenting with lightly stroking his big thing, and sure enough, he responded with moans and thrusts. Here I was, a tiny little blonde girl, making a puppet out of a two hundred and twenty pound slab of muscle!

I felt the erotic power rush through my body, and my woo-woo started drooling again. It felt good, but I know it's bad. I'm such a dirty girl for Daddy!

I started jacking up and down on his big hard thing and I soon discovered that he leaks too. A clear, slimy liquid was dribbling out of the hole at the tip of his penis. I found that by slathering it around, I could use it to slicken his shaft. (No doubt that is its evolutionary purpose, said a professorial voice in my head).

See Diary, I can be nerdy even when jacking my dad's dick. I am one messed up girl.

Daddy was just moaning and thrashing when I had an idea. He used his mouth on me, why not use mine on him? So I lifted his cock so that it was pointing straight up, and without even thinking about it, I fastened my lips around the big head and sucked.

This caused the biggest moan yet, and I smiled around the cock-meat in my mouth. I started using my tongue to lick and slobber all over his cock head. God, I felt so slutty. Sucking my own father's dick and loving it.

But there's no question. I did love it. I loved the taste. The feel. The power. The sheer raunchy wrongness of it all. My pussy was gushing and pulsing.

And then he sat up, paused, and got out of bed.

"No Daddy!" I actually said out loud as he left my room. Poor Daddy! His dick was sticking straight out, angry red and throbbing with need. And yet he was being called out of his dream. The poor man would get no release.

And that's when I made up my mind. I was going to follow him. I would not let him have his release taken from him. I loved him too much for that.

And if I was honest with myself, I would have had to admit that I too was close to another release. I needed it just as much as he did.

So I tiptoed after him and saw that he had simply pulled back the covers and collapsed into bed. He was laying on his side with his legs bent backwards. He kinda looked like an upside-down question mark. You know, like the ones Mexicans use when writing? Am I getting off topic, oh all-powerful Diary? Fine.