The Perfect Fuck Buddy Ch. 02

Alex sat on the couch, the television on in front of him but his mind elsewhere.

She usually gets home around 6 on Fridays. It's 6:12 right now.

His cock twitched, that reaction to the thought of Ariel promptly followed by shame and guilt.

When he had woken up in the morning, the pounding headache and bitter aftertaste of alcohol had reminded him of his late night spent at the bar. After letting the office know that he would be working from home, and after a very satisfying, still-half-asleep piss, he had gone back to sleep for a little while longer.

Once he had woken up for the day, it took a few minutes for him to remember the entirety of last night. He had trudged down to the kitchen, for coffee and cereal, the kind of breakfast that would not make him vomit up the previous night's alcohol. His eyes had flickered over the table in the corner, a fixture in the house that he had never looked at a second time, simple and unassuming as it was. But today, his eyes had dragged back to it after that initial glance. He had been unsure as to why until a few moments later, when the memory of bending someone over it had surfaced.

Wait, was it Stacy? he had asked himself. I thought the date hadn't gone well...

Another few moments had passed, and then a numbing horror set in as the full memory came back to him. The image of Ariel's ass jiggling as he fucked her flashed through his mind, and he had been forced to reach blindly for a nearby chair so he could collapse into it.

I really shouldn't have drunk so much, he had lamented.

It wasn't the alcohol, a voice had answered. You just wanted to fuck her.

In a panic, he had dashed upstairs, to find her room perfectly normal, no sign of any distress. There were also no texts or calls from her on his phone save those from last night. His finger hovered over the screen, as if to call or text, but he restrained himself.

I can't have this conversation in a text or a call. It has to be face-to-face.

After resolving to talk to Ariel when she got home, he had managed to get through the rest of the day. Thoughts of the previous night crept into his head from time to time, his cock twitching despite the shame and guilt caused by those memories. His headache disappeared thanks to food and Advil, and he got some work done in the afternoon, the day ending up somewhat productive. That productivity helped to distract him from the looming issue, but whenever he took a break, he was quickly bombarded by worries of that conversation he would need to have with Ariel.

Distressingly, that pesky voice spoke up in those moments as well.

It wasn't rape. Maybe you held her down, but she could have fought harder if she had not wanted it.

Maybe she trusted me to stop, he had answered.

Maybe she didn't want you to stop.

Just as distressing as the voice's existence was the fact that he often found himself at a loss for answers to it.

Once 5 o'clock had passed, he had abandoned his work and gone downstairs to watch television and wait for Ariel. A few times, the thought of mentally rehearsing what he would say had come to mind, and once or twice, he had attempted to plan out his side of the conversation. Ultimately, after those few attempts, he had given up.

This is not a normal conversation to have with your daughter.

He heard the front door opening.

She's home. Here we go.

"I'm home!" Ariel sang, peeking around the corner of the entryway as she slipped out of her jacket and shoes.

"Hi, Ariel," he replied, turning off the television and taking a deep breath in preparation for his apology.

Instead of joining him in the living room, she bounded up the stairs.

"Wait, come here a sec!"

She stopped, and just as eagerly came back down the stairs. Before he could stop them, his eyes flitted over her outfit, a sweater paired with a flower-print skirt, tights covering her legs.

"What's up?" she asked brightly, sitting next to him on the couch.

"Uh..."

"What is it, Daddy?" she asked, biting her lip.

His cock twitched.

The last time you called me that, I was inside you...I might not be able to hear that the same way again.

He hesitated again. Ariel just kept her calm gaze fixed on him.

"I'm sorry," he managed to say, a blush rising along his neck.

"For what?" she asked, furrowing her brows in confusion.

"For last night," he replied. "I...I raped you."

As the words hung in the air, he found himself suddenly feeling somewhat better, freer, lighter, like a weight was off his shoulders. The shame and guilt had not left, but he was able to breathe easier with those damning words out in the open.

"I raped you, Ariel," he continued, "and I know I can never make up for that, but I am so sorry."

A few moments of silence followed his apology. A queer expression was across her face, one that defied all attempts to decipher it.

And then she laughed.

"What are you talking about?" she asked through the laughter.

"Last night," he replied, "I raped you."

His solemn statement only made her laugh again.

"No, you didn't," she told him after her quick bout of giggles.

"I bent you over the kitchen table and held you down, Ariel. You begged me to stop."

"At first, and only because I wanted to go to bed. I wanted you to fuck me. I'm glad you did. Did you forget I was the one who suggested it?"

He stared back at her, flabbergasted and disheartened.

She wanted it, that pesky voice spoke up. You didn't rape her, dumbass.

"But I held you down," he managed to say. "It doesn't matter why you didn't want me to do it, you still begged me not to."

"At first, sure, if you want to call it rape, call it that. But if I had really not wanted it, I would have fought a lot harder."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. Unfortunately, Ariel did not need that time.

"Besides, I loved it. The way you held me down, overpowered me, made me yours..."

She bit her lip again, her thighs rubbing together noticeably now. His cock twitched, but he ignored it, only staring in horror at her arousal.

"You fucked me just the way I love it. Just the way I need it."

His cock was swelling quickly, those words so lewd and wrong, but still undeniably and worryingly thrilling.

"When guys take control like that, you have no idea what that does to me..."

I do, actually, because your mother was the exact same way. I fucked her like that so many times...

"I wanted to help you because I love you," Ariel told him, fidgeting with a restrained lust, "but I didn't think I would enjoy it as much as I did."

"Ariel," he began, but he was cut off when she moved suddenly, straddling him with a smooth motion.

"What are you doing?" he asked numbly, not quite digesting that his daughter was currently in his lap in a much less wholesome way than when she was younger.

She did not answer him, only reaching out to grab one of his hands by the wrist and drag it towards her skirt.

"What are you doing?!" he asked again, louder, trying to yank his hand away.

Again, she did not answer him, and did not let him yank his hand away, instead pulling it underneath her skirt with a surprisingly strong grip. The brazenness caught him off guard, so he could only sit there in numb amazement as she guided his hand in between her thighs until he felt fabric. His fingers ran over her tights, and he realized that they were wet.

"Can you feel it?" she asked him, squirming now, her body pinning him to the couch.

He stared back at her, dumbfounded, her hand making his fingers run over the damp tights and the soaked panties underneath them.

"My panties are wet. They've been that way for a while. I didn't want to take them off."

His cock was rock-hard now.

"Do you know why they're so wet?"

He was too taken aback by this shameless display to reply, but she answered her own question.

"Because I've been wet all day. I can't stop thinking about last night. Kept sneaking into the nearest bathroom so I could touch myself, but my fingers don't compare to you, Daddy."

Images flashed in his mind, of her in a bathroom stall, several fingers knuckle-deep inside her drenched pussy.

Because of me. Because of what I did to her.

A shiver ran down his spine. She was grinding slowly against his fingers, her hand still controlling them.

Just like the previous night, despite the desire rising inside him, he had some restraint.

This is your daughter, he reminded himself. Your little girl.

"Please, Daddy," his little girl murmured, "I've been thinking about you all day long. About how you fucked me. About how you'd fuck me when I got home."

Sweat was cropping up at his forehead as a heat worked its way along his neck.

This is your daughter.

"We both enjoyed it last night. And you can take me like that anytime you want."

Your little girl.

The grinding against his fingers was more insistent now, her wetness squishing around them.

"You can take me like that right now. Just throw me down onto the couch and do what you want with me."

That heat spread across his body, making it difficult for him to think of any retort.

She needs it, that pesky voice told him. You do, too.

She's my daughter.

That didn't stop you last night, and it shouldn't stop you now.

Ariel brought his hand out from underneath her skirt. All he could do was watch, still dumbstruck by how she had taken charge, as she brought that hand to her mouth and sucked at a finger.

His cock strained at his boxers, screaming out for deliverance. She moved on to the other fingers, sucking at each one to taste the wetness that dappled them. The sight floored him, the desire rising higher, the heat burning hotter.

When she finished cleaning his fingers of her own wetness, she stared straight at him.

"Please, Daddy, take me, take me right fucking now..."

He grabbed her by the hips and tossed her down onto the couch.

"Yes, Daddy, yes!" she cried excitedly, yanking her skirt up as he pulled his shorts and boxers down.

Her hands went to slide her tights down, but he knocked them away and took hold of the fabric.

A tearing sound followed as he ripped the tights open.

"Daddy!" she shrieked in surprise.

He ignored her reaction, instead zeroing in on her panties, yanking them aside and thus rendering the pink slit underneath vulnerable.

The responsible voice in his mind that had spoken up before was nowhere to be found as he quickly pushed inside his daughter, the warmth and wetness of her channel eagerly welcoming him. That sensation made him buck his hips, sending more of his length through that slit. As she moaned, he took a firm hold of her thighs, and drove forward, fitting every inch inside her.

Her moan turned into a squeal, her back arching sharply, her legs trembling in his grasp.

Alex took his time indulging in the moment. The silky heat of his daughter's pussy was an exquisite prize, the physical pleasure amplified by the fact that it was also quite forbidden. Quivers ran over him as he let his eyes drink in the expression currently plastered across her face, the raw desire etched there, her eyes lit up with lust, her lips gasping open as she took shallow breaths, her cheeks flushing darker.

"Oh god yes," she sighed, reciprocating with her own intent gaze.

His hips drew back, and he glanced down to watch her slit letting him leave, the inches of his shaft now gleaming with juices. A whine came from her, but fortunately for her, his retreat was only halfway, as he shoved forward, driving back inside her, making her squeal happily.

He growled at how desperately her pussy clutched at him. His grip on her thighs was unforgiving, his fingers digging into the flesh there. Her squeal calmed into purrs, and she wriggled restlessly, her hands clenched on the arm of the couch just above her head.

Again, his hips drew back, and again that retreat was met with a whine. Once again, Ariel's misery was short-lived, his cock only slipping out halfway before he sent it back all the way into that welcoming channel, the slightly harder thrust jarring her.

"Ooh fuck yes, Daddy, yes..."

Her coo of praise drew another growl from him, and he slid back again, watching her delight morph into misery, watching the misery revert to delight thanks to another thrust.

The misery disappeared altogether as he began to fuck her, holding tightly to her thighs, using that grip to keep her legs raised and spread, making sure there was nothing that could get in between their bodies. His hips pumped smoothly, the rhythm insistent but not too harsh, keeping some strength in reserve.

Full-throated cries erupted from Ariel. They were mostly wordless expressions of pleasure, but every so often, there would come a wail of 'Daddy!'. Hearing his daughter call out to him made him fuck her harder, his cock screwing through her channel, his balls whacking loudly against her taint.

Those cries calmed then, and he felt her pussy spasming around him. Her orgasm was strong, shudders breaking over her figure, juices streaming from her sex. She was staring up towards him, but her eyes were unfocused.

He thrust to the base inside her, and held himself there, wanting to luxuriate in the moment once again, thrilled that he had so easily brought about ecstasy for his daughter.

"Daddy," she purred.

Her tongue peeked out to run over her lips, drawing his attention to them.

Keeping himself buried inside her, he let go of her thighs, and reached out to grab the couch armrest. The move surprised Ariel, who gasped at their proximity, now face-to-face with him.

He stared into her eyes, the familiar brown orbs suffused with lust and love.

And then he kissed her.

She moaned into his mouth. Her legs wrapped around him, the fabric of the tights rubbing against his skin.

He let his tongue sneak past her lips to wriggle against hers.

My cock is inside her, and now my tongue is too...

It was far from the first time he had kissed her on the lips, as he had done so many times when she was younger. But in this context, it was quite different, not an innocent peck but a passionate tangling of tongues.

Father and daughter made out, lying there on the couch. Ariel's squirming was restless, her legs tightening around him, her hands grabbing at his shoulders. The slick warmth surrounding his cock was a wondrous delight, those tender muscles clutching desperately, hoping to keep him entrenched there.

Besides the squirming, Ariel was content to be underneath him, to let him have his way with her, to let his tongue roam around in her mouth. There was no attempt to make him start thrusting again.

She's just like her mother was...

Alex drew back, breaking the kiss, staring down at his daughter, struck once again by how much she looked like Carmen, the physical resemblance seemingly matched by a similar sexual sensibility. The attention made Ariel blush.

"Daddy..." she sighed, the hands at his shoulders now grabbing at his shirt, as if she were searching for another anchor to him, the fusion of their bodies not enough to fulfill that need.

The tugging at his collar, even as mindless as it was, annoyed him.

He let go of the armrest and caught her hands by the wrists. There was a squeak of surprise from her, and then a lewd squeal as he yanked those hands from his shirt and pinned them to the armrest. Father and daughter were again face to face, this time with the former having immobilized the latter. This development was met with an instinctive submissiveness by Ariel, whose squeal was now a meek whimper, her squirming stopped, her eyes wide and filled with an almost fearful lustfulness.

"Daddy..."

He kissed her again.

There was no fight in her, no resistance, no struggling. She only moaned into his mouth as they made out.

He drew his hips back, and began to fuck her again, slowly working his way up to the previous pace.

Another orgasm soon ran over her, as evidenced by her muffled cry and the wild spasming of her channel.

Again, he broke the kiss, partly to better hear that cry. It rang out loud in the living room, the ecstatic notes provoking him to fuck her harder. His hips snapped back and forth, pinning her to the couch along with his hands, that combination making sure she was completely helpless.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Fuck yes, this is amazing!

Ariel squealed giddily, delighted that her daddy had given into his desires and was fucking her so ruthlessly.

Just how I love it...

Another orgasm was approaching swiftly. The first two had been incredible, the ecstasy enhanced by the taboo nature of this coupling, more potent for the naughtiness of the cock pounding into her being the same one that had helped bring her into the world.

Her daddy's attention was again on her.

Kissing him was wonderful, but so was this, moaning and shuddering under his gaze, watching him drink in the sight of her.

The orgasm struck. Her cry rang out in the room. She tossed her head from side to side, the ecstasy battering her a harsh assault.

Her daddy did not stop thrusting, so even as that orgasm bled into a rich afterglow, the next raced towards her.

And then she felt lips lock around a mouthful of her neck.

The next orgasm was sped up by that possessiveness, by the way her daddy sucked at her skin, letting his teeth gently scrape there.

"Ooh yes..."

More ecstasy washed over her already wracked frame.

The thrusts still carried on, sending her daddy's cock deep inside her again and again. The repeating whack of his balls slapping against her taint was loud in the room. As he fucked her, he groaned and grunted, sucking at her neck. His hands were tight around her wrists, almost to the point of pain, but whatever discomfort there was only accentuated her helplessness.

For her, this was the culmination of a day filled with a furtive lustfulness.

Once she had woken up, and remembered him bending her over the kitchen table, incestuous desires had gripped her. Throughout the day, her mind had often wandered to memories of last night and ideas of what might happen when she returned home. As a result, she had found herself frequently aroused, and had ducked into the nearest restroom when possible to scratch that proverbial itch. Such frequent arousal had made the day difficult to get through, from concentrating on her 8:30 a.m. Statistics test, to paying attention in her South American History class, to being a good worker during her afternoon shift at the campus café. The drive home had been the most agonizing part of the day, as the excitement had increased then.

And now, her daddy was inside her again.

It had surprised and amused her that he had interpreted last night as rape.

He did hold me down, but I would've fought harder if I hadn't wanted it.

His heartfelt apology had made her think that he would not fuck her again. Inspiration had struck then, and she had straddled him, wanting to prove that not only had she greatly enjoyed last night, but she also wanted more of what he had given her. The latter part of that had been accomplished by just straddling him, and she had completed the former by grabbing his hand and guiding it underneath her skirt to show him how soaked her panties were from the constant arousal. She had felt so naughty on his lap, as even though she had sat there countless times when she had been a child, it had obviously never been in such a provocative context. From there, it had taken some cajoling, admittedly more than she had expected, to get him to fuck her again.