The Daddy Files: Christine + Rich

Her parents were arguing again. It seemed like they were doing that more and more these days, and Christine was tired of hearing it. She supposed she had to be grateful that her parents were letting her live at home rent-free while she attended college, but if the price was frequent yelling matches she would almost rather have been in a dorm, far, far away.

Of course, the yelling was almost always limited to her mother these days, as well. Caroline McGill was one unhappy woman, it seemed, and she was taking the rest of her household down with her. Christine would normally have put on her headphones and blasted some music while she studied, but she found herself curious to know what the argument was about this time. She cracked her bedroom door and listened.

"Let it go, Richard! I said I don't feel like going out tonight." After some low rumbling that was probably her father's response, her mother went on at the top of her lungs, "I don't really care if they're expecting us." More rumbling. "Well, it was a stupid promise and I was drunk when I made it. If you're so set on going, go without me. I don't care what you do."

Christine rolled her eyes. She knew what the fight was about now. Her parents had been planning to go to some costume party being thrown by a couple friends of theirs for weeks now. She had even asked if she could tag along, but her parents had exchanged glances and merely told her it was a party for adults.

"Uh, in case you haven't noticed, I'm twenty now!" she had said in a huff. And when her dad had said, "Yes, exactly. Twenty," she had surmised it was a party where a lot of drinking would be going on.

She still hadn't seen the problem. She knew her dad probably wouldn't be drinking much because he would drive them home at the end of the night. And it's not like she had to drink alcohol. Surely there would be water and soda for the designated drivers, right? But her parents had been firm and said that, moreover, it would be mostly people their own age and wouldn't she prefer partying with kids her age?

Probably, she thought, but she didn't really have any friends who liked to party. The college she attended was actually not much for big, wild parties and she thought it was kind of funny that her parents probably partied more than most of the kids she knew. But once in a while it would be nice to let loose.

The sound of the garage door caught her attention and she glanced out the window to see her father backing down the driveway. She looked down at her desk where her essay was waiting for her to finish it, and back out at the street, where her father's car was just disappearing.

A tap on the door distracted her, and she turned to see her mother with that weirdly saccharine smile she wore when she pretended she hadn't just been arguing.

"Chrissy, sweetheart, I just wanted to let you know that I've got a bit of a headache. So I'm going to take a long bath and then go to bed early. Can you take care of your own dinner tonight?"

"Sure, Mom, no problem."

She took care of her own dinner most nights, truth be told, but this was not the time to point that out. Her mom blew a distracted kiss and then disappeared down the hall.

Christine tapped her fingertips on her thigh. If her mother wasn't going to the party, that meant her costume would go unused tonight. And her father didn't have a date to the party. There was really no reason she couldn't wear her mother's costume and go keep her dad company. The essay could wait until tomorrow, and she felt bad that her dad would be off on his own, even if his friends would be at the party. Maybe she could be his designated driver tonight.

Having made her decision, she tiptoed down the hall and into her parents' room. Her mother was already running her bath, and the bathroom door was shut tight. Christine scanned the room and saw something black and shiny tossed over a chair in the corner. There was a pair of black spike heels and a mask of some sort on the chair as well.

Bingo! She grabbed everything and hastened back to her own room to see what she'd gotten. Laying it out on the bed she felt her eyebrows rising. Way to go, Mom! she thought, looking down at what was unmistakably a Catwoman costume. Luckily she and her mother had a similar body type, so the suit would probably fit.

It was a tight squeeze--so tight that she decided to forgo both bra and panties beneath it. For a moment she'd looked askance at the long, long zipper that went from the neck all the way down beneath her crotch and halfway up the back. There were several zippers so that the suit could expose a lot of cleavage or be unzipped only at the crotch. It seemed sexy but, Christine reasoned, the crotch area was probably unzippable so that it was easy to use the bathroom. No one would want to be shimmying in and out of this super-tight suit--especially while drunk--just to pee.

She zipped up the suit, carefully tucked her hair underneath the mask, and stepped into the shoes. Glancing at herself in the full-length mirror on her door, she felt her eyes widening. She looked hot as fuck, and only thought it was too bad there would be no chance of picking up any action at the party. Because she looked good.

A slick of hot red lipstick and a quick search through her closet for a tiny black crossbody bag to hold her keys and ID, and she was ready to go.

She hoped her dad wouldn't be too annoyed to see her at the party, but she would explain, wouldn't she, that she was there to keep him company. He would understand that, surely, and maybe he would even keep her attendance a secret from her mom. Mom would be mad about it no matter what her reasoning was for going to the party, Christine thought with another eyeroll as she headed to her car.

It was getting dark by the time she arrived at the house where the party was being held. There were cars all over the street and three-deep in the driveway, but other than that you might never know a party was going on inside. The music wasn't loud, there wasn't any raucous laughter or shouting from the backyard, and Christine felt herself getting a little nervous as she headed up the front walk.

Almost as soon as she entered the house she realized her mistake. When her parents said it was an adult party, they had really meant it.

People in all states of undress were laughing, chatting, making out, or straight-up banging right there in the front room of the house. Literally, a woman with curly black hair in a nurse costume was riding some guy dressed as a jester. It was surreal.

Christine could hardly believe the evidence in front of her. Her parents liked to go to sex parties. And--oh dear Jesus--there was her mom's friend Shirley blowing some dude who was definitely not her husband Charles. Charles was--she glanced around--humping a very enthusiastic young woman in a bunny suit. Fitting, she thought.

For a moment, she really wanted to turn straight around and go back home. But then Shirley spotted her.

"Caro, you made it! Rich said you weren't feeling well. He's in the family room if you want to say hi. Some chick was giving him the eye, but I know he'd rather see you."

Swallowing hard, Christine gave a brief nod and headed through the front room. She'd been to the house once or twice before and vaguely recalled that the family room--with much more comfortable furniture where she was sure people would be enthusiastically fornicating--was through the kitchen.

No need to worry, she told herself, she could just whisper to her father that it was her, Christine, before anything more embarrassing happened. They would figure a way out of this situation together, just as they always had when things went wrong.

But she wasn't really given a chance.

As soon as she stepped into the family room she spotted her father, looking fairly morose even as a busty redhead sat on his lap kissing his neck. The redhead raised her head, looking somewhat annoyed, and spotted her a moment before her father did. She was able to scramble somewhat gracelessly off his lap just before he stood.

"Caroline," he breathed. He moved toward her and before she could say a word he had his mouth crushed onto hers. Christine was stunned into inaction at the feel of her father's lips upon hers, giving her a very unfatherly kiss. In her surprise, she opened her mouth to him without thinking about it, letting his insistent tongue inside to dance with hers.

God, but he was an amazing kisser. Shivers were running through her and her body heated from the intensity of his embrace.

"I'm so glad you changed your mind," he said in a low voice. "I've been thinking about this all week long."

Christine swallowed. If there was any time to tell him who she was, she supposed it would be now. It was too late to avoid embarrassment or impropriety, but surely it would be better to say something before...

All she did was let out a soft hum in apparent agreement, and allowed her father to steer her toward a corner of the room. He caged her in against the wall and took her mouth again, this time pressing his body against hers. Without really thinking about it, she lifted her arms to encircle his neck and kissed him back.

Who would it really hurt, after all, if they just kissed a little? He was so very talented.

She gave a little moan of surprise when her father's hands landed on her backside, encased in the tight costume. He rumbled his pleasure into his mouth at the feel of her ass in his palms, and ran one hand down her thigh. Then, in a smooth movement, he lifted her leg up to wrap around his hip and ground his body into hers.

Her stomach clenched as she felt him, hot and hard through the thin fabric of his own pirate costume. Her own father was pressing his erection against her belly. It should have disgusted her, but all she felt was a thick wave of arousal. He was kissing her like a starving man, and she wondered when the last time was her parents had made love. Maybe he really had been waiting all week for this.

Poor Daddy, she thought. His body was so hard, yearning for her touch. Maybe a little dry humping would be okay, she rationalized.

But then everything seemed to spin out of control. Her father lightly squeezed one of her breasts, and then slid his hand down between them, unerringly finding the zipper of her costume and pulling it down, down, all the way down and through her legs until she was exposed, completely.

And his hand slid into the opening and he palmed her vulva, his large hand cupping her possessively.

"God," he said hoarsely, against the side of her neck. "You shaved, you fucking shaved for me."

He sounded awed. Very aroused.

"And you're so wet already, baby. You're dripping wet for me."

Christine felt herself flushing. She shouldn't be dripping wet in her father's palm. She shouldn't be arching against him, pushing his hand more firmly against her aching core. She shouldn't be riding the edge of an orgasm from her own father slipping one thick finger into his baby girl.

"Shit," he grunted, "you feel amazing."

He ground his palm against her and took her mouth again, sliding his tongue into her as he mimicked the motion with his finger between her thighs. Her hips bucked as she convulsed around him, cumming on her daddy's finger, so hard it almost hurt.

"Oh, yes, baby," he said.

And before she knew it, he had pushed his pirate trousers down to his thighs and impaled her on his cock. Christine cried out, feeling herself stretching around him. It wasn't her first time, but she'd never been with anyone quite so large. He filled her perfectly, and a quick swivel of her hips had him touching spots inside her she didn't even know were sensitive.

Her father had his head tilted back, teeth gritted, obviously trying not to cum.

"Richie," she whispered, just the way her mother would have done. That seemed to break the spell, and with a low growl he began to move inside her. Every thrust sent spikes of sensation through her, especially when he gave an extra grind at the end to batter her clitoris with his pelvic bone.

His hands were cupping her buttocks firmly now, anchoring her against the wall to take his thrusts, the rhythm of which sent her into a frenzy. She bucked against him, nearly screaming as she orgasmed again. Her eyes rolled back in her head as every single bit of her mind was focused on her vagina as it squeezed her father's cock.

"Yeah," he grunted, "take it baby. Take my fucking cock. I'm gonna cum. Shit, fuck, I'm gonna cum, baby."

Something, perhaps the urgency in his voice, brought her attention back to what was actually happening at that moment aside from the waves of pleasure still rolling through her.

That wasn't right. She couldn't let her father cum inside her.

"Pull out," she said. "Don't cum in me."

Her father only grunted again, hips pistoning against hers. He dropped his head down so his forehead was touching hers, gazing into her eyes as he moved, his entire body focused on the impending explosion.

With increasing panic, Christine clutched at his shoulders. "Daddy, don't!" she whispered frantically. "Daddy, it's me, Chrissy. Don't cum inside me, Daddy, you can't!"

It was too late. She felt his cock swell inside her, even as he blinked, trying to focus on her words. His mouth dropped open as he finally processed what she had said, only to have a low roar come out as he shot stream after stream of hot cum deep inside her vagina.

He didn't even try to pull out. If anything, he gripped her hips tightly and jammed his cock as far inside her as possible, staring straight into her eyes as he filled her with his seed. The rhythmic jerking of his cock inside her and the insistent press of his hips against hers had her body humming again and even as she emitted a low "noooooo" she felt herself pulsing around him, lost in her own pleasure as she had another, harder, orgasm.

When it was over, they were both breathing harshly. A smattering of applause rang out and that's the moment Christine remembered that they weren't alone in the room.

Her father leaned in, his lips against her ear making her shudder as he murmured to her. "Chrissy, is that really you, baby girl?"

"Yes, Daddy," she whispered back. "I... I'm sorry, Daddy. I should have told you but I, you didn't really, there wasn't much of a chance."

"What are you doing here?" he asked urgently.

"I just wanted to keep you company," she said, miserably. "Since I knew Mom was staying home. I didn't realize it was this kind of party."

"Oh, baby," he said with a soft sigh. "Goddamn, I fucked my own daughter."

Christine distinctly felt his cock give a lurch inside her, and her own body tighten around him in response. This time her father flushed dully and pulled out of her, tucking himself back into his costume.

"I wish you hadn't come," he muttered, and Christine felt herself blushing now, embarrassed and also, inexplicably, hurt.

"Wasn't I any good?" she blurted out, before she could stop herself.

Her father gazed at her for a moment. "You were fucking incredible, baby girl. But that's not the point. And it's not what I meant anyway. See, the thing is, the last time we came to one of these parties, your mom--"

Before he could finish, two men approached them, smiling with friendly lechery. Christine started to zip her crotch back up, but the shorter of the two men laid his hand on her arm. He was dressed in a toga--Julius Caesar, she thought. His toga was tented in the front.

"No need for that, Caro, darlin'. We've come to collect."

Nervously she glanced between the two men and her father.

"Come on, Glen," he said easily. "She was drunk as hell that night, you know that."

"Deal's a deal, Rich, and she set it up for you special. You fucked both our wives raw, and she promised the same to us next time we was at the same party."

"I know you aren't gonna take her if she's not in the mood to be taken tonight," her father said, a warning growl in his voice.

"'Course not," Glen said, managing to sound insulted. "But a deal's a deal," he finished stubbornly.

For some reason she didn't understand, her body was still buzzing with heat and interest... and something else. Some deep, dark part of her wanted her father to watch her get fucked by these men. Wanted to see her be desired and satisfied by other men, now that he knew her for who she really was. She was a sick little fuck, she thought.

Placing her hand lightly on her father's arm, she spoke softly, pitching her voice a bit low and husky though she hadn't met these two men before and they weren't likely to recognize her.

"It's okay, Richie." He flicked his gaze back to her, surprise clear in his expression. "As long as you're there to make sure everything is okay. I pay my debts."

She smiled at him, slowly, hoping he could see that she was not only willing but eager. He studied her face, his expression growing intrigued rather than shocked.

"You boys just want a straight fuck, right?" he asked. "No assplay?"

The two men exchanged glances. "No assplay," Glen agreed. "But we want to take her at the same time, and we're going to go until our balls are drained, just like you did."

Richard shrugged. "It's up to her. Where we going?"

Glen turned and gestured to the middle of the room where a big square ottoman with a sheet draped over it sat.

"All right?" Richard asked her.

"Let's do it," Christine said. She turned to the taller of the two men, an exceptionally handsome man with deep, dark skin and arresting brown eyes. He was dressed in a low-effort vampire costume: a dark suit and a cape. "I'm sorry, I really was drunk off my ass. I don't remember your name."

"Shawn, ma'am," he said, in a deep, dark voice that matched the rest of him.

"Lovely," she said with a smile. "Who's first?"

"Glen. He's gonna get your pussy ready for me," Shawn said, patting his crotch and giving her a little wink.

"Dick," Glen muttered, but couldn't help the grin that cracked over his face. He took Christine's arm and led her over to the ottoman, pushing her gently onto her back with her head hanging over one side.

Without so much as a testing nudge or a quick fingering, he lifted his toga and thrust fully into her, making her grunt softly. He groaned as he sank into her, then began hammering her pussy like a desperate man. She didn't think he would last long at that pace.

Shawn, meanwhile, unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. It was big, as promised, and not completely hard yet. He bent his knees slightly, squatting over Christine's mouth. Instead of closing her mouth over his cock head, though, she craned her head back and began running his tongue over his heavy ballsack.

His breath whooshed out above her, and the low groan that followed had her shivering. She felt him grasp his own cock and begin stroking it slowly with one hand, while the other peeled her suit open at the chest to expose one of her sweetly rounded breasts.

He cupped it and then pinched her nipple, sending a spark of pleasure straight to her pussy. She bucked, whined from the sensation, and Shawn chuckled softly over her head. Moving his hand from his cock he exposed her other breast and then took one in each of his big hands, massaging them and pinching her nipples alternately between his thick fingers.

Christine was suckling on his spit-soaked balls, which bobbed gently over her face, coating it in her own saliva. When she felt something warm drip onto her chest, she reached up to find his cock and felt the sticky pre-cum drooling from the tip. Her mouth watered, and she brought his cock down to her lips, swirling her tongue around the head before sucking it into her mouth.

"Fuck," Shawn grunted, pinching both her nipples at once as she began feeding his long cock down her throat. "Fuck, Glen, look how deep she's taking me."