Three Fathers

The men eventually left, thanking my Daddy for a great night. Then he came into the room and picked me up, carrying me into the he bathroom. He climbed into the shower with me fully clothed, and he spent half an hour or so washing me down, gently caressing and stroking my body. I wept, my entire frame shaking as I sobbed; so overwhelmed was I by the night's events. He wrapped his arms round me, soothing me and kissing me.

"Shhh, don't cry baby, don't cry. Daddy's so proud of you. Daddy loves you so very much," he said.

And then he took me to bed and lay me down beside him. I never felt more cherished and more content. He had used me as a plaything, and I had let him. I didn't care. I loved him. I was happy to be his little plaything for the rest of my life. I thought this was it. The real deal. He was my man. I was his woman, and I would be with him forever and ever.

And then his wife got involved and everything went to shit.

We didn't talk about her much. I wasn't interested and he didn't feel the need to tell me anything. Occasionally he might mention her in passing, but she wasn't part of the life we had created together. I was jealous of her, of course. She had him more than me, she wore his ring on her finger. But I could pretend she didn't exist, right up until the moment I couldn't pretend anymore.

Big Nick picked me up at the bar one afternoon, at the end of my shift. Instead of driving to my place, we ended up at his. I assumed his wife was away again and we were going to spend some quality time boning on his big king size bed. We parked up outside and he told me to wait in the car. He disappeared into the house for a couple of minutes, then he returned. He quickly ushered me into the hall, then he stood behind me and placed his hands over my eyes.

"I've got a little present for you, and I don't want to spoil the surprise," he whispered in my ear.

"Okay, Daddy," I squealed, excited at the prospect of what he might have bought for me.

We shuffled along together, towards the living room, the same room where he and his poker buddies had gang-banged me a few months earlier. We got to the doorway and he pulled his hands back, revealing the interior of the room.

Sat on a chair, at the far end of the room, was his wife. She was completely naked and she had her legs spread wide apart, draped over the arms of the chair. With her hands she was cupping her breasts, her fingers squeezing and tugging at her nipples.

I stood there, confused and uncertain.

"What...what the...what's going on?" I stammered.

"This is Karen. My wife. You've met her before. She's going to be your new Mommy," he said.

"What? What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Well, Karen and I have been discussing it, and we've decided it will be better this way, if everything was out in the open. No more sneaking around. Karen...Mommy...knows about you. She knows about us. But she doesn't mind. As long as we're honest and everything's above board."

"I don't understand. Why is she naked?"

"Well, that's because you're going to take care of her, like you take care of me. You'll do that for Daddy, won't you?"

I looked up at him and he smiled. I turned at look at his wife, sprawled our on the chair like a two-bit hooker. She was in pretty good shape, albeit with some surgical assistance. I didn't know how to respond, but then my training kicked in and I walked towards her.

"Good girl," he said.

I dropped down to my knees in front of Karen, the smell of her arousal was powerful, filling my nostrils. I reached out and tentatively stroked her inner thighs, trailing my fingernails across her soft skin. I looked at her. I looked at this woman I barely knew. I had been cheating with her husband for several years, and I cared nothing for her feelings or her pride. Now, I was going to eat out her pussy, just because I had been ordered to do so.

She gave me a somewhat disdainful look. Then I spat at her cunt. A big gob full of saliva, dripping between the lips of her twat. I slapped her gash harshly, and she yelped. I did it a second time, watching the tiny droplets of moisture fly into the air. A combination of my spit and her juices. Then I buried my face between her legs and started chomping away at her gash.

I was like a famished horse at a feed bucket, whimpering and whinnying as I devoured her. My tongue slurping up and down her slit, from the seam between her ass and vagina, up to the hard little hooded pearl of her clitoris. I grabbed hold of her ankles, as I rubbed my mouth up against her private parts. She was soaking my face with her sex-juice, gallons of fluid flooding out of her like a burst dam.

She gasped and moaned as I performed oral sex on her. She pulled and twisted her nipples, stretching them out like elastic. Her body shivered and shook, twitched and turned, as if powerful bursts of electricity were flowing through her body.

"Oh fuuuuuck!" She screamed, "You little slut! You're a nasty little slut!"

My mouth was too busy to respond. My jaw was working overtime, as I frantically licked and sucked and slurped. She grabbed hold of the back of my head, pulling me tighter towards her, my nose pressed flat against her pelvis. I could barely breathe, my face clamped to her groin.

Then I felt movement behind me. Daddy had knelt down and was pulling up my skirt. I was wearing a slutty little plaid number, and no panties. I could feel his breath against my anus and vagina. Then I felt his tongue slither inside both holes, one after the other. He burrowed inside me the same way I was burrowing inside his wife.

Then his tongue was replaced by his cock. Without warning, without lubrication, he began to push his dick deep into my anus. I barely had time to register what was happening, before he slammed forward. He had done this before, sodomised me dry, and fuck did it hurt. It was agony. But that was the point. He wanted it to hurt. So did I.

I screamed into her cunt as he fucked me in the ass. His thrusts continuing with a powerful and remorseless ferocity. The pungent sweat of my anus began to ease his passage, and he built up a steady rhythm. The pain eased and I responded to each thrust with a sway of my hips. All the time I kept up the relentless assault on her pussy. Bringing my fingers up and sliding them inside her. Stabbing back and forth, her cunt swallowing them hole.

Before too long, all three of us were cumming. Karen was a squirter and she sprayed my face with hot liquid. Simultaneously Big Nick exploded deep into my guts, hosing down my bowels as I shook and spasmed on his cock. He collapsed on top of me, while I collapsed on top of her. After a few moments, she pushed me back and closed her legs. She looked up at her husband.

"Are we done here?" She asked.

"Yes," he mumbled, almost sheepishly.

Then she pulled herself to her feet and walked out of the room.

***

From then on I spent more and more time at their house. There was always a strange vibe about the place, and I preferred it when it was just me and my Daddy, but it's amazing what you can get used to. There was a weird kind of domesticity to the situation, it almost seemed mundane. Like we really were one (mostly) happy family.

Apart from all the sex, of course.

Daddy continued to fuck me at a relentless pace, using my body whenever he wanted. The three of us fooled around together at least a couple of times a week. It's true what they say; girls really are the best pussy-lappers. Karen may not have liked me all that much, which is kind of understandable when you remember I was sleeping with her husband, but boy did she know how to eat me out. Her tongue was a modern wonder of the world, and it spent so much time buried inside my cunt and my asshole.

Somewhat to my surprise, we even paired off together alone on the odd occasion. She had a collection of strap-on dildos and she used them on me with a kind of savage brutality I found both disturbing and arousing. Daddy fucked me hard, but Mommy really fucked me hard. I had been told to obey her in the same way I obeyed him, and mostly I did.

I can't say I understood why she had allowed me into their home like this. You would have thought she would have been humiliated by having her husband's mistress hanging around the place, even if she got to fuck me whenever she wanted. But eventually I began to realise what the real play here was.

One morning, I was alone with Big Nick in the bathroom. He was stood in front of the mirror at the hand basin, shaving. I was sat on the counter, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts, and I was absentmindedly masturbating. Every so often he would tweak my nipple or gently slap my pussy. The atmosphere was playful but highly sexual. Once he was finished we would take a shower together and I was looking forward to my first fuck of the day.

I reached over to the cabinet and took out my stash of contraceptive pills, ready to take my tablet.

"You should stop using them, you know," he said, quietly.

"My pill? Why?" I queried.

"You know why. Why would someone stop taking the pill?"

"You want me to get pregnant?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"Wow?"

"Yeah, wow. I didn't know you had that idea in mind."

"Well, yeah. Karen and I have been talking about it, and..."

"What do you mean, you and Karen have been talking about it? What the fuck has this got to do with your wife?"

"We've been thinking about children. Karen can't have any. She miscarried when she was younger and there were complications. She can't carry a child."

"But I can?"

"I see no reason why not. You're young. You're healthy. You could get pregnant easily."

"And who would look after this baby?"

"Well, all of us, I suppose. You don't want to be burdened with a child at your age. Karen wants to be a mother, and..."

"Oh, I see. Now it all makes sense. Now I understand why you brought me here, why you've basically had me move in with you. You want me to be some surrogate, some broodmare for you and your barren wife."

"Doesn't it make sense? We could all parent the child together."

"No! Fuck you, Daddy! Fuck your wife! And fuck our baby!"

I jumped down from the counter, headed to the room I'd been staying in, pulled on some clothes and stormed out of the house. I slammed the front door behind me and hitchhiked back to my apartment. He tried to call me a few times, but I refused to answer the phone.

A few days later, Karen turned up at the bar and lost her shit with me. She screamed and hollered and wailed, calling me a slut and a whore. Telling everyone I'd stolen her husband and fucked him behind her back. She ended up throwing a drink all over me. I felt completely humiliated.

As a result of that little contretemps I left town. I decided there and then I didn't want anything to do with either of them. Partly it was the pregnancy thing, an uneasiness about being used, about being treated as some plaything for them to exploit and control. In a way, I liked it. I liked being Daddy's fuck-toy, his worthless little slut. But this was different. This felt sinister.

Once again, I wasn't ready for motherhood. And if I was going to squeeze out a baby, I certainly wasn't going to just hand it over to some other woman. If I was going to be a mother, I was actually going to be a mother. I wasn't some piece of equipment designed to make life complete for a childless couple, who looked on me as their domestic help.

Also, I had begun to feel uncertain about my relationship with Big Nick. Did he really love me, or was I just a useful fuck, who could give him a child? I cut myself off cold, refusing to answer messages of emails. It was hard. I did love him. Very much. Like Mr Leaf, he had been an important guide and mentor in my life. And yes, he had been another Daddy.

But, as luck would have it, I was about to be reintroduced to the real thing.

***

Part 3: Daddy

I am kneeling at his feet.

I am wearing nothing but a collar and lead.

I am naked and I am wet and I am waiting.

He ignores me mostly. He watches television, or reads a paper. Occasionally he picks up his iPad and looks at something on the internet. He does let me rest my head on his knee and sometimes he gently strokes my hair, like I'm a favourite little puppy. Which I suppose in a way I am. I am happy to kneel there. Happy just to be near him, and feel his warmth.

Then he tugs on the lead and tells me to suck his cock.

I can barely contain my glee. It's all I can do to stop myself clapping my hands together in giddy excitement. I spin round and frantically unzip his fly, fishing out his dick. It's big and beefy, a giant fuck-stick that I could play with for hours and hours and hours. I wrap my lips round the head, snaking my tongue round the ridge of his glans, then teasing his little piss-slit.

I pull back and spit on it, my saliva dripping down his shaft, then I begin licking in a frenzied fashion. My tongue starts at the base and travels all the way up. I slurp away at the head some more, then repeat the routine. I do this for a while before beginning to suck on his dick. My mouth opens wide and I begin to swallow as much of his meat as I can. The taste of sweat and piss is obvious, but I relish the flavours. I want to lap up his earthy essence. This is a man's cock inside my mouth.

My head sinks further and further, as more and more of his prick disappears between my lips. As I think I've made it abundantly clear by now, I've had plenty of practice on my knees; I know I am an accomplished and experienced dick polisher. And I've no intention of doing anything other than giving my best. I'm going to deep throat him and then swallow every single drop of his cum.

I relax my throat and breathe through my nostrils, as his cock slides deeper and deeper inside my mouth. He's groaning and grunting as I suck on him. His hands move to my head, his fingers roaming through my hair.

"Suck my balls," he says.

I pull back, releasing his dick, strands of spittle stretching between his tip and my lips. I lean down further and begin licking and sucking on his sack. I take one ball in my mouth, then the other. His wiry pubic hair rubbing against my tongue. I squeeze each ball firmly, wrapping my hand round his shaft. I jerk him off, my fist moving up and down like a blur.

"Eat my ass," he says.

Like a Nazi prison camp guard, I follow orders without delay. He lifts himself up from the chair, so I can pull his pants down. Then he leans back further, spreading his legs wider and revealing his nasty butthole. I stick my tongue out and start probing away at his anus. He showered earlier, so he's clean. But I'd happily rim him even if he wasn't. I just want to make him happy, even if that means degrading myself. I don't care.

I lap away at his ass, my tongue stabbing and probing, licking and slurping. There's a coppery taste to his dark, sweaty butthole. I bring my fingers up and start pushing them inside. He doesn't mind ass play, I've even pegged him a few times. He's most definitely not gay, but he's confident enough in his sexuality to enjoy me playing around down there. He likes fucking. He likes physical contact. There are few if any boundaries we cannot cross together.

His anus starts twitching, which is a warning he's about to cum. I want his semen inside my mouth, so I return my focus to his prick. I begin to suck away frantically and soon enough he erupts inside my mouth. His dick pulses and spasms, ribbons of cream splashing against my tongue and throat.

He pants away, breathing heavily as he comes down from the sexual high. I'm turned on and desperate to be fucked, but I know he'll want to wait. It's going to take him a few minutes to recover, so I return to my place at his feet. I give my clit a few surreptitious strokes, waiting for him to order me back to work. I have his dick in my hand, and I play with it gently. Waiting once more.

Maybe twenty minutes later he tugs on my lead again.

"Get up here, I want to fuck you," he says.

I clamber up on to my feet and then climb on top of him. I straddle his waist, taking hold of his dick and lining it up with the lips of my entrance. Then I slide down on top of him, his cock burying itself inside me. Both of us groan in unison, as he fills my forbidden depths. He's so big, bigger than Big Nick even, and every inch of him is buried inside me.

"Oh God, Daddy!" I scream, "You feel so good inside me."

He kisses me, my mouth opening, our tongues meeting passionately. He grabs hold of my ass cheeks, sinking his fingers into my flesh. He squeezes and fondles me, as I ride his cock. Then he buries his face in my tits, rubbing my boobs against his lips and cheeks and nose and chin. He chews on my nipples, sucking and licking and biting.

I've already orgasmed half a dozen times, his monster prick pounding away between my legs. He grabs hold of my face, staring up at me, his eyes burning away, looking deep into my soul.

"Do you want Daddy's cum inside you?"

"Yes, Daddy. Please Daddy, give me your cum. I'm your little girl and I need your cum," I whimper, close to passing out.

He roars like a lion and explodes deep inside my cunt. His orgasm triggers mine and I collapse on top of him, resting my head on his shoulder. My whole body is shaking, as aftershocks of pleasure ripple through me. I can feel his dick twitching and pulsing. I can feel his spunk dripping out of me.

Neither of us move for the longest of times. He strokes my back and whispers devotion into my ear.

"Daddy loves you. Daddy loves you. Daddy loves his little girl."

I just sit there, his dick still inside me. I don't want to move. I just want to stay there forever. Safe and secure with the man I love. With my Daddy. My real Daddy. There was no need to pretend this time.

***

Everything changed with a phone call from my mother.

Mom lived nearby, but I didn't spend all that much time with her. She was always nagging and complaining. She was forever telling me that I was wasting my life, that I could do so much better than working in a bar. She may well have been right, but I didn't need her constantly moaning about my choices.

So it came as something of a surprise when I saw her ID appear on my cell phone.

"Hello? Hello, Georgia?" She said.

"Hey, Mom," I replied, already bracing myself for a barrage of hectoring and harrumphing.

"I need to see you."

"Why, what's up?" I said, suddenly concerned she might be ill.

"It's your father. I need to speak to you about your father."

I travelled over to her place, a crappy little bungalow in one of the slightly better parts of town. She opened the door and barely acknowledged me when I walked in. We sat in the kitchen and she poured me a cup of coffee. Then, after some not inconsiderable hemming and hawing, she finally got round to the subject at hand.

"Your father wants to see you," she said, her matter of fact tone belying the weight of what she was telling me.

"My father? I thought he had just disappeared. I didn't realise you were still in touch," I replied.

"We weren't. I hadn't heard from him in years. But suddenly he contacted me. He got my number from a mutual friend."

This was a somewhat momentous moment. I hadn't had any contact with the man since I was a little girl. More than that, my mother had steadfastly refused to tell me anything about him. He was a complete mystery to me, an enigmatic figure whose presence loomed large but was a total unknown. I knew his name was Conrad O'Rourke. And that was pretty much all I knew.

"And he wants to see me?" I said, unable to hide the excitement in my tone.