Who Fucked Me Best? You Daddy!!!

And like the fool I was, I said,

"Jacko, your jizz tastes sweeter than usual, less sour.

This caused a general laugh and guffaw.

"Ah, go rub it on your head," said my tormentor. "It makes for a good shampoo."

The next in line was a handsome footballer. He apologized before dropping his trousers. His bush was so dense I could not see his cock, but as he jerked it, it grew into a formidable pillar. It was not the length of his piston, but the width that caused me difficulty. It was as wide as a beer can. Not to be deterred, he used both hands to jam it inside my iris and finally succeeded. His victory was short-lived as he sprouted juice almost immediately. The other men laughed and said,

"With your size and quick action, no girl will have ya."

He grinned at their comments and said, "Yer wives never complain."

By this time I realized I thought I'd been fucked by all the men, but there came Mr. Starbuck, my boss. When he approached I reached out for his cock.

"No hand-job today girlie," he'd said and smiled down at me sweetly.

His cock was softer than the other men, but somehow he'd managed to stuff it inside me and finally finished. I knew Starbuck's cock better than any man's, but his performance was ineffectual, pleasing only to himself. I hardly felt anything.

By now, I'd been shared by each and every man. I can't even remember them all as me eyes were closed for the first bunch. After the first bouts, my soreness was mostly gone. I was feeling no pain, just a warm numbness in my foof. I rested on the table, my legs spread wide apart as if inviting any newcomers, that might be arriving, but thinking my trial was over.

I'd become a willing collaborator to this fuck fest, and did not resist. Once I opened my eyes, I welcomed each new cock into my pussy with a wicked grin and a smile. I was enjoying the male attention that I'd so yearned for as a youngster. I was regretting that the men came too fast and when they pulled out, another quickly took their place. Each completed their pleasure and moved on. Only a few said, "Thank you."

After this round robin, my pussy was swollen and my quim was filled with their cum. The shining had even run down my legs and into my butthole.

Finally, a more mature man, quite tall and strong, who I realized was probably the last in line, stood up and said to the group,

"Ye sluggards don't know anything about pleasing a lady."

He approached me and gripped each of my legs to spread them even wider, and then he poured a glass of beer right into my swollen slit.

"This will clean ya off, little lady."

The cold blast of beer swept the scummy accumulation out of my lolly and all of a sudden my feeling returned. The big man dove headfirst into my pussy with his long nose and mustache. He reamed me with his nose and toyed with his tongue, even chewed on my labia, which hurt a bit but was exciting and his mustache added a bristle of pain. Finally, he moved on to a long session with my swollen clitoris. After a while, my heart was beating like a drum and I was moaning like a banshee. This man, unknown to me was the reward for my sufferance.

When he stopped exciting me beyond my endurance, he reached down, and undid his heavy leather belt, dropping his trousers around his ankles. When I saw the size of his swollen prick, I said,

"Oh no, that ding-a-ling is far too big for me."

He smiled and said,

"Have no fear. Your quim will stretch a mile for my custard launcher."

Then he turned to the crowd,

"Mark my words, gents, my name is Oscar Pennypacker and I can fuck any of you sluggards under the table."

His words took aback me. Now I knew who he was. I watched his huge manhood emerging from a wooly forest between his thighs. He shook it out to its full length. He pulled back his tan foreskin, revealing a rippled mass of red flesh and a deep blue vein that swelled and circled his penis shaft.

My vagina was numb during most of the men's fucking, but following his oral stimulation and seeing his huge cock poised to enter, it awoke every sensibility I possessed.

Even though I feared penetration, I desperately wanted that tent pole inside my lady parts. When he approached, my eyes opened wide. I steeled myself for a cataclysm as he placed his weapon between my thighs, easily parting my labia as if it was the red sea.

He slowly entered, and I let out a scream that in no way deterred him. It was not a scream of pain, but one of pleasure, as he filled me as no man that night, was able to do. My pussy was stretched beyond hope. It felt as if my cunt and his cock were united.

He set to thrusting for the longest time, so fast and furious was his attack that the initial pain subsided, and a wave of warm sexual excitement set in with each articulation of his peacemaker.

Like a fool, I cried out for more. He did not disappoint, brandishing his tool like a professional cocksman. The friction from his entry and rapid withdrawal heated up my nonnie, as if his dick was a hot poker burning inside me. How long this conjugation went on, I am not sure, but it wasn't over quickly.

Finally, his time was at hand, he shouted,

"And now sweet lass, I'm ready to cum," and he pulled his massive prick out of me and rested it on the top of my cunt as if to show me his johnson and as I looked down, I could see his hips thrust forward and his shaft, as wide as a cop's nightstick disappeared inside me, filling me up so fully that I could see the imprint of his staff as my belly swelled marking his entry into my tannyrand, so deep and firm that I feared he'd split me in half. His long cock was hitting the back of my uterus when his sperm erupted like lava from a volcano. It felt like liquid fire and he filled me to the brim of my cunt with his love juice.

At the onset, the father fuck was painful, but as it continued I experienced true sexual pleasure for the first time. Even after all the men sampled me, this was the first time I realized why women love to be fucked. I was happiest with my father's prick inside me, happier than ever before.

"Yes Daddy," I shouted back, "You are the best fucker in the place, and you can call me daughter."

I don't know if he heard me because Jamie O'Higgins, who had just arrived at the insistence of my friend Jacko, had stuck his cock in my mouth just as my father pulled his large tool out of my quim. Not content to watch Jamie receive a blowjob, the men had begun shouting, "fuck her Jamie, fuck her twat," so Jamie spun me around on the wet table.

"Nah,'' said the young man, "her minge is too full of cum juice. Turn her over."

They flipped me like a pancake and Jamie, whose cock was long and thin, a sort of a gray color like a greyhound's tail, spread my legs wide, holding each leg in a firm grip with his large hands. He stood between my thighs and then he fell on me and reamed my bunghole like a harpoon.

I was trying to see where my father had gone, but he seemed to have disappeared in the confusion. My position was now face down, butt up, and the pain of this, my first chuffing. The only lube was my father's cum juices that had collected and dripped down into my poop chute. The pain Jamie was inflicting distracted me all the more. Only when he was near the end of my ordeal did the rectal burning subside.

Thank God, Jamie was a 'youngin,' probably 19 years old. I didn't expect him to go on much longer. I had already learned that the younger the man, the shorter the ordeal. Then the fucker grabbed both my legs and thrust ever deeper into my bruised cavity. I could feel my nanny hole being torn apart. Grabbing onto my ass cheeks, as if my thighs had handles, Jamie concluded his butt hole rape with a series of short quick thrusts. I was wondering when this nightmare was over. As if he was an artist signing his masterpiece, he grabbed the staff of his erection and rotated it in a circle inside my butt.

A few more dick stabs, then he let go of his dick and rammed as deep as it could go, breaking ever new ground in my chum bucket with his hard nut sack slapping against my rump in the final drum beat of the evening, shouting,

"Don't you forget it was Jamie O'Higgins who took your backdoor's maidenhead, and he shot his full load of juice inside my butthole. His intrusion opened up my jammy dodger, wider than ever before, and his sperm cream burned my bruised flesh.

All the men were laughing and shouting,

"He fucked her Culo." said Luigi, the Italian. Someone else said, "Jamie fucked her right in her arse."

Jacko was dancing around as if he had something to do with it.

And then that bastard, O'Brian, the one who been the first rapist of the evening, turned me over on my back and shoved his bloody pissy dick in my mouth.

"Lick it clean of your virgin blood, you wench. Don't you dare forget as long as you live, it was my cock that split your pussy skin and made you bleed."

As exhausted as I was, what could I do? I licked his bloody dick clean, and at his insistence, sucked his balls as well. Not the best-tasting things. They felt softened by his exertions and I was tempted to bite them both off, but I could not make a eunuch out of this young man who had so abused my pussy willow.

I don't remember what happened next, I must have passed out. The men left me alone. After this terrible exertion, I fell into a deep sleep. When I awoke, still nude and stinking of beer and cum, it was daybreak. The morning light was filtering through the window shades and under the door. I realized someone had covered me with a tablecloth.

I used the downstairs men's room to partially wash up and collected my clothing from a chair where I found someone had neatly folded them. I realized the men must have taken up a collection. There were a bunch of small bills stuffed into my bra, enough to help make my getaway.

I walked sorely up to my room in a bowlegged fashion. I was quite a mess. My legs were still covered with dried sperm, blood, and beer, and my nipples were chewed in a disgraceful state. My pussy was sore and remained sore for the next two weeks. Whenever I pissed I felt burning. The only blessing was that my period had begun and according to a priest when I confessed what I'd been through, the blood was what saved me from getting pregnant.

"It's the old rhythm method. Jesus was protecting you from having a bastard."

I didn't tell him I was father fucked as well.

Knowing my reputation was irreparable in this small town, I packed my clothes in my pink plastic suitcase and caught the 7:15 morning train to London. I was certain I'd find employment.

At one of the stops along the way, a young man sat next to me and tried to chat me up while putting his knee against my leg.

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, but you'll have to remove your leg. I fucked so many men last night, I couldn't bear to fuck another."

His face turned white and his jaw fell.

"Sorry Miss." He got up to find another seat, and no one bothered me again before arriving in London.

I learned much from that sordid exhibition, but what was fixed in my memory was discovering my father. Hands down, his big cock was the best fuck of all the men who jigged inside me that night.

Women say a big cock is a joy forever. They are correct. Since I've been in London Town, I've supplemented my weekly earnings as a hotel maid with men from the pubs, eager to pay for my time and for a condom shot in my pussy. In the few months, I've been here, I've sexed with a good many dicks, both large and small, but the one that still figures prominently in my memory is that of Oscar Pennypacker.

I've learned that some men want a quick suck and others a long fuck. Once I'm off work, whatever the request, I'm here to please. I only ask that they wash up beforehand or I'll wash them myself. A gamy pissy dick is no pleasure to mouth, but a clean one is fun to pipe. By God, if cock was a flute I'd play a merry tune on it.

I do enjoy sucking cock. Having the warm fleshy protuberance, the smooth skin of the long shaft, and the delicate satin fat head in my mouth is a pleasing sensation. Being in control of the man's wang is an added bonus. I'm quite accomplished at blowing cocks. At least that's what the guys tell me. I can tease them, prolong their agony as they moan like a beast or give them rapid relief. I've even learned to catch the cum in the back of my throat, so it goes right down the pipe and I hardly taste it at all. Yes, I've become a bit of a tart and the men all say they love me.

I entertained a group of four Greek Sailors last week. I have no idea what they were saying, but they fucked me in every orifice. One was in my butt while another was in my private bits and the third one in my mouth. The fourth sailor was jerking off on my tits. It reminded me of the time they abused me in Dover. I don't have any regrets or shame over what happened the other night. I don't care about the time back in Dover when they broke my virgin cunt and ass, it's all part of coming to terms with the reality of life. Sex is what you make of it.

Men are after one thing, and most men become sweet and grateful once you let them have it. I like to think I was gang raped by a group of well-wishers, including my own father. That experience started me in this new way of life that strangely pleases me. Not only do the men pay me much-needed attention, but they pay me well to answer their sexual needs while placating my horniness.

Sometimes when no late-night customers come calling, which is rare, I'll take off the evening to rest up. When you are used to sex on a frequent basis, it is hard to go to sleep without a sexual climax. On those occasions, I'll two-finger myself at night thinking of Pennypacker fucking me. Sometimes I use the vibrating handle of my electric toothbrush but it is not wide enough to give me full pleasure so I'll finish with a shampoo container that is just the right width.

When I fall asleep moments later, a strange and beautiful sexual release awakens me. My nanny floods with liquid, not piss but squirt juice, as I dream of that evening, that special night when my daddy fucked me hard and strong, and oh so deep. That is why I've learned to sleep with a towel thrust between my thighs to absorb the hormonal secretions.

I keep my eyes open in the pubs, hotels, and alleyways I frequent. I'm still waiting in vain for a glance at my dear father, and perhaps another visit from Oscar Pennypacker. My Dad came once deep inside me, but he has never cum again. In my dream, which is always the same, I am on my knees before him, his grizzly cock in my throat as he rubs my head and says,

"Ah, sweet daughter, swallow all my cum and after that, I'll fuck your twat."

And I respond,

"Thank you, dear father, fuck me any way you like. My twat and chuff are yours tonight and forever."

THE ENCORE

Perhaps all good things come to she who waits. I've been in London for almost a year. Summer is approaching and because of climate change, the temperature is higher than ever.

On my day off, I visited the Rookery Paddling Public Pool in Streatham Common for a cooling swim or wading. The facility was near to where I was living. It disappointed me to see it had poorly maintained. A cardboard display promised they would refurbish the pool during the winter. For the moment, large stretches of the pavement were cracked or broken.

The pool opened in the morning but closed at 6 PM, giving little relief to the working people suffering from the heat. Public housing does not offer air conditioning. To my great surprise, when I entered the locker room, I saw the pool master. It turned out to be none other than Oscar Pennypacker. At last, I had found him.

I undressed in the women's section and returned my street clothing in a wire basket to the counter where Oscar was standing, receiving a shiny copper medallion with my locker number attached to a stretchy bracelet. I was sure Oscar recognized me but neither of us said a word. An attendant carried the basket to lock it behind a wire enclosure. Pennypacker smiled at me and I smiled back. Maybe he thought I didn't recall our initiation.

I was certain the one-piece bathing suit would fit me, but my breasts had increased in size since I last wore it on the beach in Dover when Jacko and I would sunbath. I fought to get my tits inside and my nipples covered, but it wasn't easy. The stretch fabric kept letting my nipples pop out.

Finally, semi-presentable, I ventured out into the hot sun. The cement pavement was so hot it burned my feet. The uneven condition of the melting tarred surface made walking difficult. Pebbles and cracks easily got underfoot and hurt. I found an empty spot on one end of the pool, a distance from the diving boards, and settled down with my towel, suntan lotion, and a paperback book about the adventures of "The Happy Hooker."

I'm not much of a swimmer, but the chlorine smell was intoxicating as soon as you entered the swim area. At the far end of the pool were diving boards where a group of divers vied to outdo one other. I kept a distance from the carnival atmosphere. Walking through the waist-high water cooled me off. I made several forays into the water whenever I felt overheated. A medium-sized dragonfly, thinking the pool was a river, flew low to deposit eggs. I thought that was a good omen.

I noticed several young men frolicking in the shallow area. They smiled at me whenever I came near. Finally, one of them, Felix, came over and introduced himself to me. He said.

"I lived at the Benhurst Court apartment complex, public housing."

He took my hand and tried to walk me out where the water was deeper,

I said,

"No, I can't swim very well."

We stood there in chest-high water. His friend called Simon, came swimming up to us and took me by the other hand. The two boys started pulling me into the deeper part of the pool where the under pavement was painted gray. When I resisted, Felix pulled me deeper and Simon grabbed onto my feet. Then several other boys arrived and started spinning me around. At first, I thought it was all in fun, but they started grabbing at my tits and one fellow got his hand inside my suit and was squeezing my bare breast.

As I protested they pushed my head underwater. As I came up for air, I could feel one of them had inserted his hand into the bottom of my suit and got his fingers into my vagina.

I started to shout, "Help, help" but no one could hear me because of the noise of all the swimmers. Finally, a big splash and a man I assumed was the lifeguard pushed the boys away from me, took me by the hand, and led me into shallow water.

My bathing suit was pulled down to my waist and my tits were visible. He helped me adjust the suit and walked me into the entrance of the locker room. That was when I realized the person who had saved me was Oscar Pennypacker.

The locker area was dark like a cave and cool. He wrapped a large towel around my shoulders.

"Those boys were very rude," I said.

"Yes, school is out, and it's a bank holiday, so it's a mixed group. When they saw your big titties hanging out of your skimpy suit, it must have set them off."

"Does that happen often?"

"Well, the lads were just having a bit of fun. Boys will be boys, but you yourself are a bit of a tart if I remember."

That comment turned my face a deep scarlet, and I began to cry.

"Oh it's ok, don't ya be a wailing girlie, you're safe here with me."

I threw my arms around him and he held me tight for the longest time until my tears had stopped. During this time, he'd picked me up as if I was a feather and carried me into a back room where there was a coarse wooden bed. He laid me there and helped me take off my wet swimsuit.

"What happens now," I said.

"If you are willing, I'd like to have a taste of your sweet pussy."