The Pill

SUMMARY: This is a complete work of fiction. The scenario described within isn't even necessarily realistic, scientifically speaking. But the idea sounded fun to me, so I went with it. It's about a father and his daughter and one night when he takes something akin to a Viagra, but the effects backfire on him and he finds himself still hard and aroused even after his wife has fallen asleep. Restless, he heads back out to the living room where his daughter is awake watching a movie...

All characters in this story are 18 or older.

P.S. I apologize for any typos in my story! I edit these myself, and I'm not perfect...

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.

STORY:

[Ch 01. Parental heat.]

Hello. I'm Jasmine. I've got a short story to share with you that I've been dying to write for over two years, ever since it happened. It's a true story. My dad made me promise never to tell anyone this, but I decided it was just too juicy keep what happened to myself anymore. My own name has been changed, but aside from that, this story is practically a play for play rerun of the events that transpired one Saturday night, almost two years ago. It was two months before my twentieth birthday, which means I was nineteen at the time.

In case you're wondering what I look like, I'll do my best to describe myself. I've been told I look hot, but I honestly would never in a million years use that word to describe myself. Cute? Sure. Pretty? Sometimes. But hot? Not really. But whatever, that's what I've had a few people tell me over the past few years. Both boys and girls. Let's see. So probably the most remarkable trait I have is my incredibly short height. I never quite reached the five foot mark, despite earnestly wanting to. I used to do daily stretches to try to make it, but I never went past 4'11".

The best way I'd describe my build is to say that I'm slim with medium sized boobs. (Admittedly, my bra size is 32C.) My eyes are blue and I have relatively pale skin (I burn easily). My hair is blondish, with shades of brown. It's wavy and kind of long, although the curls at my tips make it stop right at my shoulder blades. I actually take a lot of pride in my hair and use a lot of conditioning products in it to keep it feeling silky. I love my hair. Wrapping up my description, I'd say my nose is thin and small with a rounded tip, and my lips are curvy. My pale skin is to blame for the very light sprinkling of subtle freckles on my face.

So, back to my story. As I mentioned, it was a Saturday night and my parents and I were watching a relatively steamy romance movie together in the living room. We often had movie night on the weekends. The movie was cheesy, but some of the sex scenes seemed pretty realistic to me, even though they showed little actual nudity. All in all, I was enjoying watching it quite a bit. I had been sexually active myself for a year and a half, since I lost my virginity. But it had been several months since I had gotten anything close to a good "release", aside from masturbating in bed a few times a week.

Now, normally I would be embarrassed watching a movie with sex scenes like this one with my parents in the very same room. But they were pretty distracted. My dad had opened a bottle of wine an hour ago and they drank it together. Half-way through the second bottle, things seemed to be heating up for my parents. I kept hearing my mom whisper things to my dad which he responded to by making what I considered to be "sexual" noises.

Finally, out of the corner of my eye, I saw my dad stand and then pull my mom to her feet. She swayed where she stood and then walked unsteadily behind him as he led her out of the living room and down the hall. I couldn't help but watch them as they disappeared into their bedroom. My parents had a pretty healthy sex life. I knew it because they weren't necessarily careful about keeping quiet when they did it. It wasn't all that rare where I would be walking by their bedroom only to overhear the unmistakable sounds of love making. A few times I could tell that my mom was giving my dad a blowjob. It had been a weird kind of thrill listening at their door the first time I heard that. I eavesdropped that night right up until my dad's moaning hit a crescendo, and then I bolted.

With my parents gone to have their sexual romp for the evening, I grabbed a blanket, deciding to finish the movie by myself. There was only twenty minutes left. Surprisingly, there were two more intense sex scenes during those twenty minutes. The second one was so realistic, I absently started rubbing my crotch through my sweatpants as I leaned back against the sofa, the blanket covering my lap.

The two people on the screen both had orgasms simultaneously. And just as their breathing hit its peak, I heard a noise down the hall. Yanking my hand from my crotch, I twisted my head that way. To my surprise, my dad stumbled out of his bedroom, closing the door behind him. I frowned, watching as he turned and started walking toward me. He didn't look as unsteady as my mom had, but he was clearly not sober either. When he got to the living room, he threw himself down on his favorite recliner, a big leather chair with thick armrests. He leaned back, closing his eyes and breathing heavily.

They must have just had sex! Oh wow. So this is what my dad looked like after getting laid.

[Ch 02. Daddy's problem.]

Admittedly, I was a total daddy's girl. I always had been, as far back as I could remember. And so, as I sat quietly watching the next stupid movie that came on, I couldn't help but eye my father repeatedly while we sat there together. He hadn't said anything since he came back out from the bedroom. It wasn't usual for him to get up again after they had sex. He didn't even head to the bathroom.

Finally, I was way too curious not to ask something. I wasn't about prod at their sex life or anything, but I wanted to at least find out why he had come back to the living room. Clearing my throat, I asked, "What's wrong?"

My dad opened his eyes and looked over at me. He had a strange look on his face and his eyes were glassy. Was he more drunk than I realized? I leaned forward, frowning, until his gaze locked onto mine. He quickly looked away, squirming a little in his chair. Then he asked, "Can you throw me the blanket from the back of the couch?"

Oh. Maybe he was just cold. Grabbing the big blue blanket, I tossed it to him. Part of it landed on his left leg, the one closest to me. He grabbed it and pulled it all the way onto his lap, letting the edges dangle over the armrests of his chair. Then he closed his eyes again, leaning back and seemingly trying to relax. Maybe he was planning on sleeping in the living room.

"Daddy?" I called to him softly. When he looked over at me, opening his eyes, I asked again, "What's wrong?"

He sighed after a few seconds, looking away yet again. He had never acted this nervous around me before. But he finally answered, quietly, "Uh, I took a pill tonight." Then he sighed.

Frowning, I tried to figure out what he meant. I felt like I should understand what he meant, but for the life of me, I couldn't bring anything to mind. Wait a second. Did my dad take ecstasy!? I stared at him and my eyes inadvertently dropped down to his crotch. What should ecstasy have to do with his crotch? Well, with the blanket in his lap, I couldn't see anything anyway. And when I turned my attention back to his face, I noticed that his cheeks were slightly flushed. My mind raced to figure it out. He had been overly frisky toward my mom tonight. And he said he took a pill...

"Wait," I said suddenly, sitting forward. When he glanced at me, I added, "You took... a Viagra??"

"Something like that," he answered, not looking at me.

I frowned toward him anyway and asked, "What does that mean?"

He lifted his head and I saw that his cheeks were an even brighter shade of red. Oh dear. He swallowed and then spoke almost too quiet for me to hear. "Well, it's not Viagra... it's just, uuhh. It's a new drug. Supposed to be way better than Viagra."

Oh? I can't believe my dad took a freaking Viagra! Did that mean he had a hard time getting hard for my mom lately? Or did they just want to try it out for... fun? Hold on. He said it was way better than Viagra? "Uh, better? Than Viagra? As in, like... how so?" I heard myself asking, extremely curious. I realized I was sitting on the edge of the couch now.

My dad shrugged, clearly uncomfortable to be talking about this with me. But as I said, I was a total daddy's girl. I always felt we were super close, and I thought for sure he felt the same. Biting my lower lip, I waited for him to--hopefully--answer. I had to know.

Finally, he said softly, "I dunno. It's supposed to make it, uhhh, last longer. Like, a lot longer." He paused, as if he was trying to catch his breath. Then he added, "Plus it, uhh... it works--by itself."

"By itself?" I asked, confused. How else was it supposed to work? It's not like you were supposed to mix--

"I don't need to touch, uh... to make it work," he said. I had never seen my dad so embarrassed in all my life.

Whistling softly between my teeth, I said, "Oh boy."

"Yeah," he said in agreement.

My butt was still on the edge of the couch, but I leaned back, taking this in. I kept glancing at my dad from the corner of my eye, curious and also a little concerned. Was he feeling ok? He looked uncomfortable sitting there. A thought occurred to me and words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"Wait... are you... hard? Uh, right now?" I asked, my eyes opening wide. I couldn't help but glance at his lap again, although the blanket was still blocking any view of his crotch whatsoever. It clicked in my mind and I knew the answer even before he confirmed it.

My dad cleared his throat. I didn't think he could blush any harder, but his cheeks were getting even darker red. He nodded slowly and breathed out a whispered, "Very."

I squirmed, sitting forward and pulling my butt back, pushing my thighs together. I felt warm suddenly. But I was way too interested in what was going on with him to mind my own feelings. "Is it uncomfortable?" I heard myself ask.

He shrugged, glancing toward me as he said, "Uh, yeah. A little."

I frowned. I hated seeing my daddy uncomfortable. I felt horrible for him. What could he do? What could I do? How could I do anything? I was just a nineteen-year-old girl. It didn't matter that I had already lost my virginity. I had certainly never experienced anything like this before. The boys I was with got hard all on their own without drugs. A thought occurred to me and I went ahead and blurted it out.

"Have you tried... masturbating?" I asked, feeling bold.

He looked at me and for a minute I thought he wasn't going to answer. But then he let out a breath, seeming to deflate a little, and whispered, "A little."

"It didn't work?" I pressed. Why was I being so forward with him? Well, I knew why. Because I wanted to help him. Somehow. I had no idea how, but I knew I wanted to. Maybe I could talk him down, so to speak?

"I... I don't know, Jasmine. Uhh, maybe I need to do it longer. But this just feels weird to me. And I didn't want to... with your mom asleep. I... I've never--" he cleared his throat, yanking his eyes down into his lap. Then he added, under his breath, "I've never been hard this long before."

"Oh daddy," I said, my voice full of sympathy for him. I wanted to reach out and give him a big bear hug. Then I asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Uh, no," he said, glancing at me then quickly looking away.

Was it just me, or had his eyes grazed across my chest when he looked at me? I looked down at myself, taking in my outfit. I was wearing a pink casual dress. It was designed to look like a shirt and a skirt, but they were really one piece. The top had a wide, v-neck with a zipper at the center that opened the front of it. The v came down to the bottom of my chest, leaving a large swath of exposed skin between my breasts and up to either shoulder. I felt slightly self-conscious suddenly.

"You're sure?" I asked. I really did want to help him. Maybe he just needed to eat something?

"Not unless you want to help get me off," my dad said and then he laughed, as if that was the funniest joke in the world.

"Ok," I said almost immediately and then I froze. Wait. What? His head whipped to the side and he gaped at me.

My dad held my gaze for a quarter of a minute before wrenching his eyes away. He cleared his throat again and then said, "Uh, no."

We sat in silence for a few minutes. He looked extremely uncomfortable, fidgeting in his seat. Come to think of it, I was feeling extra squirmy myself. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. "Daddy," I called to him. When he looked toward me, I asked, "Want me to try?" Then I held my breath. I couldn't believe I had just asked my dad if he wanted me to try to... get him off.

"Try what?" he asked, but I knew he was stalling.

Rolling my eyes, I leaned a little closer and lowered my voice as I answered, "I could give you a hand job." My cheeks turned red hot the second the words were out of my mouth.

"JASMINE!" my dad practically yelled my name.

I sat back, crossing my arms, feeling frustrated. "What daddy?" I asked, feeling pouty. Looking down at my own lap, I continued, "I'm serious. I don't mind." When he didn't say anything, I looked over at him and saw him staring at the blanket on his legs. Then I said softly, "It seems like it might be bad to leave it... like that." I stared intently at the blanket, hoping he might move just enough that I could see exactly what was going on under there.

"Uhh," he answered, but that was all he said. Then we sat in silence for what felt like hours.

I couldn't take it anymore. Leaning forward again, I tried to sound completely casual as I whispered, "We could do it under the blanket or something. I... I don't even have to look."

He didn't answer. He just kept staring at his crotch. Finally, he lifted his eyes toward mine and asked quietly, "You're serious?"

Shrugging, I smashed my thighs together. This conversation was having a very odd effect on me. "Why not?" I asked.

Another thirty seconds went by and then my dad gave one, brief nod of his head. "Ok," he said, sounding reluctant but accepting.

[Ch 03. First attempt.]

My face felt like ice as the color suddenly drained out of it when I realized what my dad had just agreed to. No, when I realized what I had offered. But one look at his face gave me a small boost of courage and, before I could lose it again, I forced myself forward, my butt sliding off the edge of the couch where I had been perched precariously the last twenty minutes or so.

When I reached the carpet, I scampered over toward my dad's chair. He stared at me like I was a viper and seemed to shrink into his chair cushions as I drew closer until I was finally squatting at his feet, looking up at him. Tilting my head to the side, I glanced unproductively at his lap once more, noting that nothing was visible.

"You gonna make room for me in your chair?" I asked, feeling incredibly emboldened. I don't even know why. Maybe it was the simple fact that my dad had agreed to this crazy, erotic thing that I hoped was actually about to happen.

He scooted sideways, making room for me, so I climbed up into the chair and plopped myself down beside him. This close, I could hear his breathing. It was labored and ragged, which I hadn't noticed from my spot on the couch. Poor daddy. He really wasn't handling his erection very well. He squirmed in discomfort and that was the final straw for me. With a nod, I leaned toward him and pressed the side of my head against his shoulder, staring down his body. I wanted to help put him at ease.

Sucking in a slow, deep breath through my nose as quietly as I could, I held it while I tried to steel myself for what I was about to do. I closed my eyes and then reached my arm out, groping for the edge of the blanket. When I found it, I dug my hand underneath and slid it onto my dad's stomach. He flinched at my touch, letting out a puff of air through his nose that swept across my chin. I started to feel nervous anxiety flutter in my own stomach, so I quickly slid my hand down until I reached the waist of his sweats. Frowning, I tilted my head back, looking at him, and then whispered, "Are you gonna take your sweats off?"

My dad swallowed, but he was already lifting his butt as he nodded toward me. I felt him shift around and then I heard the sound of his sweats being pulled down his legs. The blanket moved as he kicked it and then I saw his sweatpants land on the floor at his feet with a soft, crumpling noise. My eyes stared at the dark gray sweats as if they were the most significant thing in the entire world. In a way, they were. With those on the floor, that meant that my daddy was completely naked from the waist down, sitting beside me covered only by a blanket.

Looking up at his face one more time, our eyes locked. Neither of us said anything. I decided that was a good thing. If he was going to stop me, that would have been his exit right there. I looked away before he could change his mind and then, staring intently at the blanket across his crotch, I forced my hand to move down off his stomach onto his upper pelvis. He flinched again at my touch, my fingers tickling his bare skin.

Pushing my hand down a few more inches, I suddenly felt it. The heat emanating from my father's penis was intensely hot. Way hotter than I expected. And he was hard. Oh god, was he hard. So hard! My fingers instinctively wrapped around the shaft and I almost gasped myself when I felt how taut his skin was. It was such a dichotomy in my mind. His skin was taut with strain, wrapped tightly around his shaft which was as hard as could be. Yet at the same time, the way his penis felt between my fingers could only be described as... soft. Wonderfully soft. Like how my vagina feels right after I shave it freshly. No, softer than that, even. Ahh. This was intense.

With nothing else for it, I began to stroke my daddy's penis.

The noises he started to make reached my ears instantly. He was moaning, but quietly. Like a whispered moan. Every few seconds, a whimper escaped his lips as I continued to let my fingers glide their way up and down his shaft. Jesus this was more erotic than anything I had ever done. One glance at my daddy's face told me I was doing the right thing. The discomfort from earlier was gone completely, replaced by a look of rapture. His mouth was open a little and he was breathing heavily.

Biting down on my tongue, I focused my concentration on the matter at hand. Daddy's cock. That word floated through my head as I thought it. "Cock." I had only ever heard it, never used it before. Not out loud, and certainly not in my own head. But it seemed so fitting suddenly. As my hand glided up and down its length, I heard him moaning quietly beside me. My head was still resting on his shoulder, my arm draped down his body, mostly hidden beneath the blanket. But I didn't need to see what I was doing to know it was working. His body was shaking and I was surprised at how his muscles began to strain, tightening up.

Focusing my concentration fully on my daddy's penis, I kept at it. Lifting my hand up and down, I masturbated my own father. It tickled the palm of my hand, which sent a thrill through me. After just a few minutes, I realized it was becoming difficult to tell my daddy's breathing from my own. Why was this turning me on so much? Shifting slightly beside him, I lifted one of my legs over top of his. Never once did I slow my stroking, relishing the feel of his soft, taut skin as it glided within my circling fingers. Up and down, up and down. Faster, I slid my hand. This was more fun than I had anticipated. My mouth was open as I breathed heavily, not even trying to hide it. I could hear his labored breathing, even louder than my own.