Who Fucked Me Best? You Daddy!!!

Editor's note: this work contains scenes of rough, reluctant, dubiously consensual, consensually non-consensual (CNC), or non-consensual sex or scenarios.

INTRODUCTION:

All people in this story are over the age of eighteen, whether described as men or boys, and none are minors. The text contains detailed descriptions of a variety of sexual situations, including incest. Sex takes place at the beach, at a beach hotel, and in a public swimming pool. British vulgarities abound in the text for male and female genitalia as are Irish and British common day expressions.

The female protagonist is a naïve farm girl who grew up in a rural community in Ireland. Debbie goes to work as a waitress at a seaside resort near Dover, England. While discovering her summer of loving, Debbie learns that men who are attracted to her will take advantage of her good nature and innocence. She is manipulated and coerced into a variety of unforeseen sexual experiences, and finally, she becomes the willing victim, albeit partially intoxicated, of a gang rape that includes a surprise participant. She abruptly leaves Dover to work in London where she is traumatized by a rough crowd at a public swimming pool before she finds solace in a final mature experience with her rescuer, who turns out to be her father.

WHO FUCKED ME BEST - IT WAS YOU, DADDY!

'In case ya be 'wantin' to know, my name is Debrah Wittentower, but everyone calls me Debbie.' I grew up in County Leitrim in the far north of the Irish Republic. My grandfather was not Irish, a German war prisoner from the 'War to End all Wars (WWI). After the Battle of Verdun, he surrendered to the Allied forces in France and was sent to a military prison in Ireland. War prisoners could work for local families and when the war was over, my grandfather stayed in Ireland and continued to work as a hired hand on my family's eighty-acre dairy farm.

Grandpa Witt, as we called him, was an experienced dairy farmer. Grandma used to say, "no one could pull on a tit the way he could." Milking cows by hand was the practice before stainless steel milking machines modernized the process. I guess sleight of hand helped him to bed the farmer's daughter, my grandma. Grandpa is the source of my natural honey blond hair. My big tits, like my mother's, are the sign of a milkmaid.

After my Mom was born, a variety of farmhands worked for the family. Mom got sweet on Oscar when she was a year out of high school. She found him attractive and before long they were indulging in the carnal acts that priests frown on.

When grandma realized her daughter was pregnant, she brought the couple to the village priest; the engagement and the wedding date were set. An unexpected disaster wrecked those plans. In the end, I grew up without a dad.

"Who is my Dad? I would ask when I was a small child.

Mom would reply, "Who is your father? It is no mystery at all?"

I learned later from a nosy parker relative that Oscar Pennypacker, Mom's fiancee, was searching for her one afternoon. He walked into the back room of Flint's pub and saw my mom lying on a table, her skirt thrown back, her tits blowing in the breeze, being fucked by the publican's son.

Oscar, seeing young Flint's red dick besting his future bride, walked out of the pub without a word and was never seen again around our parts. Some said Oscar ended up in England, a good guess, as that was where most of the Irish went to find work.

I was born seven months later. The Priest gave me Mom's last name. Mom said that Oscar was responsible for her pregnancy, but the priest refused to give me my father's name. Mom insisted she was a virgin, and no man had shared her before Oscar. She was drunk as a lord or lady, she insisted, when Seamus Flint, the publican's son, fucked her on that hot afternoon.

It is common knowledge that a lot of the country lasses end up with a cock between their legs in the private back rooms of Flint's Pub when they've had too much to drink. Mom knew she was pregnant by Oscar before Flint took advantage of her. It was one last fling before the wedding closed her pussy door, a door so easily pulled open on that reckless afternoon.

At Aunt Mary's nephew's wedding, Mom had drunk a bit too much, I heard her say,

"Weddings are depressing."

"You had your chance," said Aunt Mary, "but you muffed it."

"Yep, and for a lousy drunken fuck by a pencil dick, when my fiance had a cock like an oak tree". Then Mom shut up, realizing I was listening.

Enough about the sins of our parents.

Wittentower is a big name for a wee lass. I am only 5'4" and blond-haired, freckled, and narrow-waisted with big boobs. I've often noticed the boys admiring my ass, which is not big, but well formed. At least I like to think so.

I was still a virgin at the start of summer, but I was wondering why. I decided at some point I might as well give up my virginity, and learn why women like being fucked and men seem so obsessed with fucking us, much like the dogs coupling on the multicolored cobblestone streets of our village. Having seen how the beasts lock together, I was afraid if I gave up my virginity, I'd lock to the perpetrator for God knows how long. That fear turned out not to be a reality, but it kept me chaste for a while.

I left school early and by the age of eighteen, I left Eire. I was working that summer as a waitress in a seaside hotel on the English Coast near Dover. It was a fairly large hotel built in the Victorian era when air conditioning had not yet been discovered. Because of the seaside's moist heat, each guest's room had a small balcony where one could enjoy the cool night air that swept in from the ocean. The hotel, as is the practice, had a lounge room closed off from the bar where women or parties might congregate. Respectable women did not sit at the bar with the menfolk.

A pebbly path from the hotel leads down to the seaside, and like most beaches in Dover, the shoreline is strewn with small blackish rocks and pieces of glass the sea has turned to polished gems. Most bathers wear rubber shoes to avoid cutting their feet. Dangerous Man of War jellyfish float in the water and wash up on the shore at high tide. They look like small balloons but sting severely, much like the men with their hard-ons hidden in their underwear.

I lived on the hotel premises and they gave me breakfast in return for extra chores. My rent was modest and deducted from my salary. There was no elevator in the old building. I had to climb upstairs to the top of a long winding staircase to reach my room, hardly bigger than a hatbox. Inside was a small bed. The walls are lined with thin strips of wood painted sea blue. A small watercolor of a distant small boat on a rough white-capped sea hung on the wall. If you looked closely, there was the shadow of a shark following, a metaphor for my situation.

The only electric light at the center of the room cast a yellow glow. The small window faced the ocean. On a clear day, one could see for miles, and once in a while the room filled with moon glow. Although the room would warm up in the morning sun, it was cool at night when I slept with a thin blanket.

My boss, Mr. Starbuck hired me, and climbed upstairs to show me my room, saying,

"Debbie, under no circumstances are you to invite a customer up to your room."

"Ah sir, don't ya be worrying about that. I ain't inviting no one."

"Well dear, if I knock on your door late at night, please don't turn me away. A favor is all I'd ask, and that favor goes with the job and I will reward you."

That comment shocked me. I just grinned like an idiot, still thinking of the dogs locked and such.

My sexual experience was limited to bold fellows trying to put their hands up my shorts or under my skirt or grabbing at my tits. I suppose some ended up jerking off in the hotel bathroom with my tangy vagina smell on their fingertips, but no one had gotten their dick inside me.

Only a week passed before Mr. Starbuck came knocking at my door very late at night.

"Debra," he whispered, "Let me in. You owe me a small favor."

"I'm sorry, sir," I lied, "but I'm having my period." I thought he intended to fuck me.

"No problem dear," he unlocked the door and pushed it open, key in hand.

"A quick hand job is all I need. That will more than satisfy me."

He was wearing a sort of nightgown, but when he lifted the fabric, his cock was clearly visible. He grabbed my hand and placed it on his cock, sizable for an older man, partly erect and pointing down.

"Here deary," he said, lifting the gentle beast, "I'll help ya. You just jerk it and squeeze my balls real tight."

Between the two of us, after twenty minutes of mutual exertion, Mr. Starbuck finally came, grabbing me and pulling me against him when he ejaculated. His sperm attached to my nightgown, leaving a wet circle over my left breast.

"Oh, that was a good one deary, I'll put a few extra 'bobs' in your pay envelope," said my boss.

Looking at how his cum had turned my shift transparent, my nipple now clearly visible, he said,

"My God, you've got a good pair of tits, deary," as he reached out to pat them.

I was afraid that would lead him to more excitement. I could see his cock had started to firm up, so I pushed him out the door as a final ooze of his cum dripped onto the floor.

"Be careful, Mr. Starbuck, not to slip in the cum slick."

"Oh yes. Good night 'darlin, and thanky'. Oh my, I did cum a lot." He stepped over the drippings and returned downstairs.

I guess it wasn't so terrible helping an older man get some relief. God knows his wife, old and ailing, would not do him. It was the first time I'd been so intimate with a man's penis. I washed my gown and hands several times before the raw cock odor was finally gone.

As the summer days passed, pretty soon I knew all the regular customers. I was serving most every night and jerking Mr. Starbuck's elderly cock once a week.

On my one day off, I'd go down to the beach with Jacko, one of the hotel's workers, a curly-haired, timid boy of mixed race. He said his dad was an African American who'd gone back to the states and Jacko, abandoned, grew up in a Catholic orphanage where the conditions were deplorable and molestation was common.

I thought Jacko was my friend, but he had more sexual experience in the orphan home than I imagined. On our second trip to the shore, he held my hand tightly. When he applied suntan lotion to my back, his hand slipped down under my suit, cupping my breast. I didn't say anything, assuming it was not intentional, but when he didn't remove his hand and started playing with my nipple, I realized he was being too bold for me.

"Would you give me a blow job? Can't ya see my hard-on through the bathin' suit?" Jacko insisted. "You'll give me the blue balls, don't ya know, and 'thems' do hurt a lot."

"Oh go away, you bad boy."

But he kept at it with his demands, which I initially ignored.

"Everyone knows you are wanking off your boss. He makes every waitress do his dirty work."

That comment threw me for a loss.

"It's nothing. I'm just helping an old man get through the night."

"Fine, so how about helping a young man get through the day?"

"I don't feel comfortable here, and besides, you'll tell everyone."

"No. it will be our secret. Anyway, everyone thinks you are a slut for wanking off the old timer."

"I'd rather not continue this conversation. I thought you were my friend."

"I am your friend, but I'm a man too and I have needs. Is it because I'm black that you are refusing to help me?"

That comment stabbed me in the heart.

"No Jacko, it's not because you are black. You are my friend. If what you ask will make you happy, I'll prove it to you."

By now the beach was mostly empty, except for a few pesky flies attracted by the sun tan oil. An amorous couple was visible down near the water.

"OK, put the towel over you and I'll wank you off. You'll see I am not a bigot."

Jaco lowered his suit and his cock, quite a big one, popped out of the elastic speedo. One of those big horse flies was buzzing around and almost landed on his periwinkle. Jaco swatted the fly away with his hand.

"Quick, cover yourself before someone sees."

"Ah, who'd care."

I threw the towel over him and I reached underneath to grab his swollen penis. He laid back with a big grin on his face. It surprised me how quickly he shot his load. Much faster than Mr. Starbuck, and with considerably more sperm. I sopped up his love juice with one of the hotel towels I'd taken from the laundry room.

"Now don't you tell anyone, Jacko."

"I won't, I promise, but next time you have to blow me or I'll tell everyone"

And at that, he jumped up without pulling up his suit, his dick swinging wildly, and he ran off on the path that led back to the hotel, laughing like a fool.

Of course, on subsequent jaunts to the beach, I had to put my head under the towel and suck his cock. He insisted I swallow his jizz which, made me nauseous. But I hoped this way would save my reputation. How foolish I was.

As the summer was passing, under Jacko's instructions, I became quite an expert at cock sucking. He said I was better than the older men who sucked his cock in the orphanage and paid him for the privilege.

"Knowing how to suck a man's cock is a valuable skill," he said.

"Jacko, I really like sucking your dick. It's the swallowing I don't care for."

"Oh, you'll get used to it. A blowjob without swallowing is not complete. It's like a suit without a tie."

Jacko was right. The more times I swallowed, the less objectionable it became. His sperm was creamy with a pleasant taste.

The Celtic holiday, Lughnasa, fell on August 1st, celebrating the harvest season. The local amateur soccer team, 'The Dover Devils,' consisting mostly of Irish lads, had rented the lounge of the restaurant for a celebration. We decorated the room with humorous cutout figures of leprechauns and illustrations of pots of gold and bales of hay, with the little people hiding inside.

There was a sizable crowd that night. Mary Duggins cooked a meal of boiled ham and fresh potatoes that were dug up that very day, from a Seaside potato farm. She even added seaweed to the pot. With the salt and fat from the meat, the meal was tasty.

I served the members, and, except for a few pinches and unwanted groping, all went well. Almost every plate was polished clean when I cleared most of the dishes away. By 10 pm, there were only nine or ten men left at the big table. The rest had gone home to their wives or girlfriends, or maybe some were over at the Brimstone Pub where the gay men frolicked. You can never tell a book by its cover, they say, or where a man's dick has been spending time by its color.

I had made the mistake of accepting a glass of beer from one of the young lads without knowing it contained Irish Whiskey. I sipped the drink for the first hour while serving, and only after that time did I feel a little tipsy.

When Joey O'Brian, the lad who gave me the mug of beer, saw I was dizzy, he offered me his lap to rest. I thought he was doing me a good-hearted favor because I was unsteady on my feet. Little did I know that this was a routine joke often played on inexperienced servers.

As I sat down, he'd quickly reached under my short skirt and pulled down my britches. I was unaware of what he had done and thought he was just adjusting my weight on his lap. Little did I know he'd unsheathed his manhood, and as I sat there, he wriggled himself right up to my foo foo's door. At a strategic moment; he thrust himself inside my private bits.

When a sharp pain burst through me, I realized what the scoundrel had accomplished. I could feel his balls, as hard as ball bearings, against my naked ass as his dick tore through the veil of my maidenhead.

"What have you done?'' I shouted. "You've ruined me."

"Hold on Missy, I'm just about there." He was holding me tight, his arms around me, his big hands over my breasts. I could not break loose.

"Lookie here, boys, I've hit pay dirt. He'd inserted his thumb alongside his dick and had pulled it out and was waving the blood-stained digit in the air. Everyone laughed with him and at me.

I tried to get up, but his grasp was too powerful, and I was too dizzy. I could see he was breathing hard and then a hot liquid burst into my sore vagina. After he finished using me, he released me and I crumpled on the floor.

The lad's cock and trousers were covered with my virgin blood. He just laughed and shouted,

"Look what the bitch has done to me. I look like a poof wearing red pants."

"Oh bejesus, ya busted her hymen," said one man.

"Was it very thick?" asked another.

"Na," said my rapist, "No cunt holds up to my behemoth."

One of the older men, seeing my distress, lifted me partly from the floor and cradled my head in his arms. Someone handed me a snifter of brandy and told me to drink it,

"It will ease the pain."

I drank it down in one draught, then they handed me another. After the second or maybe the third glass, I felt very relaxed, but unstable on my feet.

The men, realizing a sordid opportunity, began to pass me around the table, feeling my titties and wetting their handkerchief in my maiden blood. When one man offered a beer to one of the guys waiting to sample me, he responded,

"Fuck the beer, I'll take the Bloody Mary."

This got a good laugh and even I began to think the whole thing was hilarious. The men rubbed their bloody hankies on their faces as if they were Indians applying war paint. That was when I was passed to Jacko. He was laughing. I heard him say,

"This is my private slut that I'll share with you gents. Debbie is a good cock sucker. I taught her all she knows."

He stuck his third finger in my private bits, rasping my tender spot with his long ragged nails. I tried to push his hand away.

"Ah sweet Deb, don't you worry, by the end of this night I'll have ya."

After my first trip around the table, my virgin blood had stopped flowing. The men became bolder with their hands and fingers. Before long, they had undressed me and I was bare of any garments. I was beyond sensibility, quite drunk, and I laughed along with my party of admirers as if the whole thing was one big joke.

One of the young lads pushed me back onto the table and lifted my legs. He spread them wide, and in a moment his cock was out of his pants and he was fucking me right on the table between the dishes and in front of the other men. The kitchen help had left for the night and only my boss, old Mr. Starbuck remained and he had gotten in line to try me as well. I looked at the group and there was my friend Jocko, laughing at my plight.

To me, this whole charade was happening very fast. Each of the boys took turns with me, including Jacko, who'd promised he'd have his way with me.

When I looked up and saw Jacko about to fuck me, I quipped,

"Hey, I know that cock. Haven't I sucked it down by the seaside?"

"Yes, you have," said Jacko, "Now you get to be fucked by it," and he slammed his dick hard into my foof, much harder than necessary.

While Jacko was fucking me, he was telling all the surrounding men I was his chosen whore, and he'd taught me how to suck cock.

Then, before he pulled his swollen penis out of my sweet spot, he announced,

"Gents, now you are in for a treat. Have you ever seen this?"

He pulled his large red cock out of 'me' nunny and it spouted off right in my face, laughing with every piston shot of cum that caught me in the eyes and mouth."

"Oh by God, get that cum out of her eyes, it could blind her,'' said Starbuck, who rushed to my side with a handkerchief to wipe away the sperm.

"Nah," said Jacko, "it 'don't' do nothing but give her a clean complexion".