The Day I F-d my gf's Father Ch. 07

Becca silently motioned for me to come closer. I initially hesitated, when I noticed she was not smiling. This seemed odd. There she was, mostly naked, in my father's bed. This seemed like her natural habitat as a nomadic slut. Why did she look so upset?

I was about to speak when she pressed her finger to her lips. Her eyes looked towards the door. I nodded, locking the hired home nurse out of the room. "Good call."

I expected Becca to smirk or say 'told you so,' but still, there was only silence.

"What?"

She pointed to a rash on my father's leg. It was an area near the scar tissue of his leg stump, there had been an untreated open wound. "That lazy ass-hat of a nurse left him with bedsores," Becca said in a whisper.

"That's not possible." Unless it was. I'd just assumed the nurse (who came with a resume full of work experience and a decent list of education credentials) had been with my father whenever I wasn't.

"Because you've been watching them at all hours of the day?" Becca asked sarcastically.

I hated the fact she was right. I had not been helping my father out of bed to bathe or even use the restroom. I had royally fucked up and that was why he was becoming sicker.

Becca sighed. "Be a dear and grab me a clean towel, and perhaps some of those hand wipes."

I wasn't sure who she was talking to. When I didn't immediately move, Lucy (with an annoyed expression) got up to retrieve the requested items. Part of me wanted to apologize, but then again this was Becca (and her lesbian fucktoy,) there was no reason they deserved my respect or gratitude.

Becca removed the blankets from the bed, fully revealing my father's naked body. She placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "Oh, you poor soul; left to die of fever while my daddy parties in the Caribbean." She softly stroked her fingers down his neck, to his chest, ending at his stomach. He was thin (way too thin), but with sculpted, defined abs. My father's nude body had the look of a Jesus sculpture, with Becca in the role of the Holy Mother. She was holding him, kissing his neck. She reached into her bra, pulling out a small bag of pills. To the untrained eye, they look like Pez or some other kind of cheap pressed-sugar candy.

Lucy placed the clean towel under my father's leg, allowing her to sanitize the wound. She then handed the wipes to Becca, along with a washcloth.

"Thank you, my love," Becca said sweetly, she took one pill for herself, and the other for Lucy. A third she placed in my father's open mouth.

My father leaned his head back, closing his eyes. "Yum," he said in a deep, soft moan as he dry-swallowed the unknown treat.

Becca tossed me the bag with the final pill.

"Thanks." I looked at the shape from multiple angles. Maybe it was just candy? My plan was to slip the pill into my daddy's mouth. (Or maybe I could save it for Jay.) "What is it?"

"Does it matter?" Becca asked with a laugh.

'Kind of.' I put the pill under my tongue, still unsure if I wanted to take the risk.

Becca placed the washcloth over my father's face, like a blindfold, allowing her to kiss his mouth. Soon they were making out; his hands tried to reach for her, but Becca pinned his wrists. "If you're a good fuckboy maybe I'll let you motorboat my tits. That's what old men like you seem to enjoy."

My father grunted, but remained silent, allowing her full control over his mouth while Lucy gripped his cock.

I watched as Lucy kissed the tip, letting her elaborately jeweled tongue slide down the side of his shaft. She seemed pleased with herself.

Becca turned to me, pressing her tongue to the inside of her mouth. "What do you say? Do you want a taste of the messiah?"

"I think I do." I swallowed the pill, letting the magic wash over me. Maybe it was a placebo, maybe I was hallucinating. Or maybe I was just where I needed to be.

Becca moved her tits over my daddy's face, positioning herself as the perfect distraction.

Gripping his amputated leg, I spread him open. I got a good look at his body. His cock stood proudly, showing life, courage. His balls were thick and heavy. I gave him a tender squeeze. There was a chance Becca was right. What if he just needed to climax?

There was just the small matter of performance anxiety; when it came to eating ass, I suffered from a slight case of PTSD. Mention of the act was always an offensive term intended as punishment. Typically, it meant that the older, filthy, sadistic client wanted to make me suffer. The demand was used as a power play, a way to make me fear for my life (due to lack of airflow) while at the same time forcing me to do something that was only for their pleasure. (Basically, the same reasons you would force the act on someone in prison.)

I stroked my daddy's thigh. He was warm, quivering. Was I supposed to say something? 'No, you idiot. There's a reason she hasn't mentioned you by name.' I spit on the back of my hand, lubing my fingers. I could do whatever I wanted, and what I wanted was to place my knuckle to his hairy, clean asshole. I massaged him with gentle pressure.

My father moaned, leaning his head back in absolute ecstasy. His body moved like a webcam model, putting on a show for anyone willing to pay ten dollars a minute.

I wanted to say something. I had to; this was every kind of wrong. I opened my lips to speak, fully intending on revealing my presence. Lucy placed her finger to my lips. "You could speak, but then you'd have to stop."

I knew she was right. It was only genetics that made this wrong. I kissed my daddy's emaciated thigh, his body tasted like sweat; salty, sweet, with a sparkle of energy. That was when I knew, I wanted to do this. I needed to stop being such a coward. After all, there was a big difference between tongue fucking a client (because your mother needed the extra $200) and doing it for someone you genuinely care about. I could absolutely do this.

I took off my shirt, ready to devote myself. I tongued my daddy's ass; licking once then twice. It felt like a kiss, each touch more erotic than the last. His body reacted in a way that seemed truly grateful. He tasted clean, likely from the fact he could no longer hold down solid food. I took a silent breath, mentally preparing myself to go all in.

My mouth opened, lips caressing him as my tongue dared to taste. With his cock and balls in my face, I made out with his ass, going deeper and deeper until Lucy tapped my arm, motioning my attention to Becca.

My girlfriend held my daddy's head, closing his eyes, as they kissed. She made an effort to hold her mouth over his for several seconds at a time, depriving him of air. "My friends and I, are going to milk your prostate, you're going to experience a sexual climax so intense it will shake your foundation of reality. don't be afraid. I'm going to talk you through it." She put a pillow over his face, completely blocking his vision.

For a moment I felt myself slipping back to reality. This was not acceptable; she had ten seconds to change her 'style of play', before I let my emotions take hold. After what I had watched Jay go through, I was not in the mood for more 'torture porn.'

Becca then lifted the pillow just enough to reveal his mouth. She traced her finger along his lower lip. "Talk to me about your father. was he a good man?" I assumed she asked that because (typically) fathers of LGBT sons were supportive loving people; or the devil. Guess which one my grandfather was?

"We were never close," the words my father spoke were soft, painful.

"Did he leave?"

"I wish."

My grandfather treated him horribly. some say it was his addiction to drugs others say it was because grandpa knew my dad wasn't his child.

I could feel a sense of sadness, the exact opposite of erotic. Thankfully, Becca seemed to pick up on this as well and opted to change the topic.

"Talk to me about your son. What was Marcus like as a little boy?"

For a moment I saw him smile.

My father leaned his head back, taking in a deep, calming breath. "When my ex was pregnant, I could feel his aura. I knew I had to stay."

"With your abusive ex-wife?"

"Ex-partner," he said with a sigh. "If I married her, I would have had an easier time getting full custody of my precious little boy."

"How do you figure?" Becca asked.

"Just what my lawyer said at the time," he replied with a sense of sadness. "My lack of commitment showed a lack of devotion to family. Bullshit, right?" He turned to Becca, leaning towards her warmth. "I'd sleep with my head on her belly, listening for him. I wanted to know his voice, his face.

Becca giggled, "Awww, that's so sweet." She looked towards Lucy. "Such a beautiful man, with such a kind heart."

Lucy nodded with a sweet, youthful smile. She didn't look like a porn star, but the way she licked two fingers, inserting them into my father's ass. Let's just say she seemed like a professional. She parted her lips, allowing a single phrase to escape in the form of an erotic, creepy breath. "Do you like that?"

She was talking to me. I knew that much. She was smaller, weaker, she held no power over me. Even still, the sound of her voice sent a shiver through to my soul. I watched her, mouth agape, as she took hold of my father's hand, sucking on his fingers.

This caused an intense erection, the kind that caresses the muscles of the hips, thighs, stomach, even up to the chest. This was the type of hard-on that could stop someone's heart. But with one arm pinned down by Becca and his other in Lucy's mouth, he was unable to masturbate. All he could do was arch his back, clenching his ass as he submitted to their mercy.

"You're a strong one," Lucy hissed like a snake. My daddy's cock was pressed against his stomach as Lucy continued to pump her fingers inside him.

Becca paused, taking a sensual breath. "Do you like having things inside you?"

"I used to dream about having my boy inside me," he said in a gasp. his stomach was soaked with precum. soaking his dark blonde pubic hair.

"Tell me more," Becca said in a whisper. This was immediately followed by a giggle.

"I wanted to feel every part of him; his courage, his love. I wanted to feel his soul grow inside me." His words were rather inspiring (even if he was high on an unlabeled drug.)

Lucy pressed her lips to my ear. "What do you say, do you want to fuck your daddy?" she removed her fingers, holding them to my mouth. I could taste the lube. "Do you want to breed his ass?" She reached her hand down the front of my sweatpants, lubing my cock with a combination of store-bought gel and my generous amount of precum.

I licked the inside of my mouth, pressing my tongue against the surface of my teeth. I wanted to fuck him the way I wanted to hold him; to comfort him, take some of the pain.

I rubbed my moist cock to his man pussy. This was happening. I was fucking my dad. I placed my hand upon his stomach, feeling the movement of his muscles as I pounded into him. My eyes were focused on my cock, observing what I was doing to him, I hardly noticed Becca's moaning.

"Fuck that's hot," she said, eyes unblinking. "Tell me more about your little boy. Did you always know you'd grow to love him?"

"I fell in love from the moment I first held him. He was mine. That was all I ever wanted."

My stomach tightened, as I rode him harder. Pumping over and over, I reached for his shaft to jerk him off; to feel his body cum as hard as I was about to. Of course, his cock was spoken for.

Lucy was the one pumping his shaft. My hand briefly touched her fingers, our grip united as one before I awkwardly left her to finish my father off.

As promised, he ejaculated all over himself in a way that could only be described as spiritual. He was moaning, his body felt so tight. The way his muscles gripped my cock encouraged me to fuck my daddy's slutty ass. 'I can see why Jay loves fucking you so much.' I pounded into him, with an intensity that lifted his hips off the bed.

I could feel my heart, my breath. "Oh fuck." The words exited my lips without context. "Yes, daddy, yes." Lucy released his hand, letting me grip my father's fingers as I experienced the longest orgasm of my life.

All until my seed oozed out of his hole, pooling on the bed. I pulled out with a slurp. exhausted, I rested my head on his chest.

My father's eyes were still covered as he stroked my hair. "That's my boy. My beautiful, precious boy. I love you with all my heart."

We all fell asleep until the late afternoon. I was unsure of what ever happened to the hired nurse. If I was him, I would have just packed up my shit and went home (before anyone had a chance to report his medical malpractice-ass to the higher-ups at the hospital.)

I awoke to the sound of a text. I was about to get out of bed and retrieve my phone, but Lucy already found it. she licked her lips with a devious smile. "Oh! I get to meet the legend himself."

"Give me that." I had a single message from Jay. 'I'm heading home on the next available flight. send you more info when I have it.'

I looked at my father and my girlfriend they were still very much asleep. I turned to Lucy. "Since I know you can talk. Why should I let you stay?" Not that I had any say in the decision.

Lucy seemed to already know that. she sat up with her arms crossed. "I'm a certified nurse."

"Bullshit."

"Because of my body jewelry?"

"did you settle on that before or after your unemployment benefits ran out?"

"After." she licked her lips, brushing her tongue piercings against her teeth. "How old do you think I am?"

"18?"

"Wow," she said with a smile. "I don't know if I should be insulted or impressed."

"Let me try again. if you have a degree in nursing you must be at least 22."

"Getting warmer," she said while pointing her finger upward.

"24?"

"Almost there."

She looked way too young to be in her late twenties or early thirties, but I guess that could be chalked up to good genes. "27?" I asked with a slight voice crack. The last thing I wanted was to offend her by guessing too high.

"Congrats." Lucy flashed the thumbs-up symbol, like something out of a cartoon. "You win the prize."

"Which is what?"

"My medical observations regarding your father's condition." Lucy touched my father's sleeping face, examining his closed eyes. "See that movement?"

"Are you talking about the muscle tick?" I had to admit, there was some noticeable movement behind his eyelids.

Lucy nodded in a way that looked like a cross between a stoner and a new-age healer. "There's scar tissue in his brain. that's what's causing the seizures. He also suffers from issues with his liver. That's likely why he's unable to hold down food."

"What are you talking about?

"He's bleeding internally," she replied in a cruel tone. "But you knew that." She stroked two fingers down his jawline. "Thankfully his mind has gone to a beautiful new place." She cuddled close to him, taking a moment to check for breath, before planting a single kiss upon his cheek.

That was when I left the bed. "You do what you got to do." I quickly pulled on my clothing. I knew better than to unlock and exit out the main door (and likely come face to face with the soon-to-be-fired nurse.) Instead, I left out a window, escaping into the flower garden.

From the basement bedroom, this would require me to climb up and around the nearby privacy plants. Thankfully there were no thorns to be found. 'Ow, fuck!' But gravel still hurt like a bitch.

As I left, I could hear Lucy softly singing the first lines of Tiny Dancer by Elton John. "Blue-jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band." She stroked father's face, gently closing his eyes, "Pretty-eyed, pirate smile, you'll marry a music man."

Lucy paused, allowing Becca to join in. "Ballerina, you must've seen her dancing in the sand." She kissed my father on the lips. "Do you know the next line, Marcus' daddy?"

He smiled, then laughed, "And now she's in me, always with me, tiny dancer in my hand."

I had been frozen in place, with one leg still inside the room. I wanted to stay, (and I probably could have.) Yet, at that moment, I figured that was my cue to leave. I loved each and every one of those people, but I wanted Jay.