Wet Dreams

I couldn't help myself. In a second, my writhing body went from a genuine fear of trying to safeguard my tender nether region as it absorbed his rough treatments, to the sexy sensation of a soothing palm massaging the fullness of my bare bottom. The heat between us should have caused us to melt. My frame started to slither on his lap like a coiled snake. As much as I enjoyed this bawdy titillation, I needed to shift the position of this vertical spear that was pressing into me, because it was beginning to impede my own breathing. But from my current position, and the dampness making things slick down there, I couldn't get a solid grip on his firm erection, so my hand kept sliding over the top of it. As I kept trying to grasp the wet bundle and my hand slid down its sides, he grew more still.

By this time, his thick digits had wedged themselves in my moist crevice, and his hand eased my pliant thighs apart. He was playing at the molten entrance of my inflamed cave. With one finger probing ahead, he flicked at the nubby stub of my womanhood, and sent me into convulsions of ecstasy. Now I was moaning too. My body put-up no more resistance and soon my hand began to dabble at his crotch. His legs parted just enough for me to reach his package, and my dainty fingers fumbled for the snap and zipper. I sensed his hips thrusting up at me and his wet pubic mound almost busting through the soaked material of his trousers.

I felt an easy pressure on my sweaty back, holding me in place and alerting me that he could apply more force if needed, a signal that he was exerting his dominance over my prone body, while his cock pushed harder on my stomach. His fingers pressed forward taking a firm hold of my cunt and advancing inside of me. He parted my outer lips and inserted two thick, exploratory digits to teasingly tickle my insides. My body reacted with tremors and vibrations signaling the impending release. Having worked this far into my warm snatch, his fingers were rewarded with the first sticky, wet flow that oozed from deep within. I could feel the familiar and forbidden sparkle of my engorged clit, and my entire frame convulsed automatically. A jolt zinged through me.

When the feeling returned to my fingers, I could no longer help myself. I worked his pants loose and freed his bloated rod. I was on fire with lust. The piston-action of his fingers began to plow a moist furrow in my tight, hot hole, setting-off titanic charges in my pussy that continued to shake me to the core. The juices began to pour out of me in earnest, drenching us both until my remaining on his slippery knees became untenable.

He slid me gently to the carpet and brushed the damp strands of light brown hair from my face, because he said, "I want to see your eyes when you take my cock down your throat." He lifted slightly from the cushion and I ripped his pants from his legs, yanking them over his boots and leaving us both in an odd state of undress, with just his work boots on and me entirely naked. It was then that he seemed to notice for the first time, that I had no clothes on. "Oh gawd, those tits look great. I want to fuck the hell out of you." He growled at me, "You're my little bitch now, and you're mine to fuck. You'll suck my cock whenever I say, and I'll fuck you when I want it" His filthy talk set my pussy aglow.

I got the first ever look at my Daddy's erect cock, and I couldn't believe my eyes. It was shaped sort of like him, squat and solid, hairy and thick, not excessively long but could deliver a firm pounding. He encouraged me to take it in my grasp and I meekly reached for the bobbing obelisk. My small hand barely fit around it and I found my hand roughly sliding up and down the sheer length of it and marveling at it's structure. The base was nestled in wiry, black curls that were now damp and tacky from my secretions. It was thick and rigid, almost uniform in width as my hand moved up to the crown. There were knobby veins that circled it and pulsed with energy. The cap had a tougher edge to it and the smooth dome seemed to be half the size of the whole column. It's head was sleek but slightly spongey to the touch with a helmeted tip that my thumb strummed, squeezing oily droplets of his watery seed. I played with the liquid mix, and used it to lube my palm so I could jerk the big pole faster and smoother. He started to utter a low, guttural hum that grew stronger and louder with my every stroke.

Daddy's hand was again at my nape, wrapping my brown locks around his meaty hand, he began to draw my face closer to his sleek, throbbing hard-on. "Open-up, honey, it's time for your feeding." That definitely did NOT turn me on, but by then he held my hair and was pushing his tool between my lips. I struggled a bit. Pushing my hands against his thighs and trying to shake loose from his grip, but to no avail. "Open your mouth, you little cunt and suck my cock!" He demanded , and I was in no position now, to argue. "I'm going to fuck that slutty mouth of yours, then I'm going to fuck your tight, little twat. Now, suck my cock. Swallow my load. And then polish it good, so it shines. Do you hear me, slut!?!" I only nodded deliberately and prepared my mouth for the invasion. This is the kind of sex I want!

I pumped it and stroked it into my mouth and he forced it to the back of my throat. His hips drove into my face and his hand in my hair, kept me at just the desired height, so he never hesitated. I wrapped my arms around his naked, sweaty ass and held-on tight while his ramrod slammed into my mouth, expanding my cheeks with each thrust and banging off the roof of my mouth. I heard him grunting like an animal and growling-out more lewd demands. "Take it, you bitch. Take all of my cock in your slutty mouth and milk the cum out of me. Suck it good, you little bitch. This is just how I'm going to fuck your dirty cunt."

These crude instructions were just the tonic I needed, and I bathed his stout hammer with my slobber. The gooey foam was dripping off of my chin, and every time his backstroke emerged from my sloppy mouth, the saliva flew and covered us both. I could smell the aroma of my own fluids, spewing from my wanton pussy, and knew that with one more second we were going to cum together. His engorged cock seemed to impossibly grow even more, in my hothouse of a mouth. I pumped it one or two more times, knowing what was about to happen, and I reflexively began to swallow in anticipation of the coming torrent. When it started he relaxed his grip on my head, and I was able to slip most of the shaft back, so that I could breathe. The deluge of soupy, white cream shot down my throat and as it tapered off, I could swish my mouth around the final few spurts. My pussy opened up and the clear, acidic flow poured out, sending me again, into spasms of ecstasy. I shivered and rocked back on my heels.

My cunt spewed-out its essence and my frame wilted on the bed. I felt the moist heat of my orgasm draining out of me, while my body recovered from the aftershocks. My body was left curled-up in the fetal position as I slowly awakened from my familiar little fantasy.

A lake of toasty liquid was puddling in the wiry curls of my trimmed pussy, and my quivering, exhausted body laid like a damp, wrung-out rag on my soggy mattress. It took a couple of eye-blinks and a giant head-shake to fully emerge from my seductive reverie. But I quickly came to the disappointing realization that it was just another torrid, bittersweet daydream. Though my Daddy's forceful, frantic, fingers were never actually there, and would never be there, exploring my welcoming folds and searching for that elusive G-spot, my own well-practiced fingers, still sticky from my successful self-flagellation were circling the dark curly-cues of hair bordering my soggy cunt.

I can't help thinking about him as the man that I want to have violently attack and molest me. At every instance of sexual prodding; stories, movies, photos or even lingerie or dreams, I see his outline or hear his voice. The raspy scrape of his whiskers between my thighs or his rough palm cupping my hefty tits, the image of my childhood protector morphs like Mr. Hyde, into my sexual predator. My nipples sprout and stiffen to the touch, just by thinking of him. The fluid build-up in my loins creates the pressure that I just have to release. I need my tits grabbed and my pussy stretched. I want my daddy's touch.

All of my energy and attention is centered on my hot furnace of pleasure. It needs to be stimulated and brought to it's heights. And that can only happen when I experience the determined, gruff handling of my aching, lonely snatch. I can only simulate the abuse of my mysterious attacker, but can't duplicate the ravishing of my exposed body and the violation of my hungry cunt. I am forced to fantasize his presence and to aggressively fondle my supple form with what I can merely dream to be his fury.

My orgasms still roil and ripple my torso. Emanating from deep in my pussy, and egged-on by my accustomed fingers, the slight tremors begin to vibrate with the hard rubbing of my clit. Then the tingly torrent mounts to an avalanche about to thunder down, as my excited, swollen nub starts the sequence. With my eyes clamped shut and my toes curling, my legs stiffen and my belly ripples, the hot deluge begins. My jittery cunt is too tender to touch, and my whole body shakes. I twist in the throes of delirium and my knees buckle, sometimes dropping me right off the bed. Only one thing could make it better.

When it dies down and I can think clearly again, I love the physical reaction but I am lonely and almost desperate to give-in to the incestuous temptation. I know that if I could somehow enhance the lewd, licentious little part of the fantasy, my orgasms would multiply and explode like I could only dream. But then I wake-up or the movie ends, or my alarm goes off... or like now, the fuckin' doorbell rings. Now who the hell could that be?

The End

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