I was only ten when my father left us. I was gutted! I loved him so much. We had such great fun together. He was my idol. When he left I couldn't stop weeping. I never saw him again as I grew up. He never called or wrote. I was terribly mixed up. My mother and gran brought me up to hate him. Gran wouldn't have his name even mentioned in the house and insisted that I should never forgive him for what he did to me. But I missed him so!
I went to Music College and became a concert violinist. Middle of the road artist. I met loads of other good musicians and we had lots of good times. I settled down with one of them – a pianist – but I always had this chip on my shoulder. Mum didn't say much about dad when I asked. He'd just disappeared off the face of the earth as far as I was concerned. A psychiatric friend said it was sometimes better for the child to believe her father dead. Well, he certainly was as far as I was concerned.
When I was thirty-two I took a job for the summer, playing in an orchestra which was based the Midlands. I found out from a mutual friend from the old days that my father was living nearby with his second wife and two children. Brothers and sisters I had never met. After a lot of soul searching I decided to meet him. To confront him. It took a hell of a lot of guts to go through with it. After twenty-two years. What could we find to say to each other?
We met in a café in a park, where we had a cup of tea. It was weird! Then we had another. But I gradually learned that he had not abandoned me at all. He was barred. Barred from speaking to me and any letters and cards were returned to him by Mum's solicitors. There was no automatic right of access to children in those days. The solicitors asked him not to write again. They said it would only upset me! Upset? I never even knew he tried to see me or get in touch, for goodness sake! We were being kept apart because gran thought him a rat.
The upshot was that I realised all wasn't his fault. I had been denied seeing him and my new family by my mother and gran. Gran was now dead, but I decided not to tell mum I'd got in touch with him. It would need too many explanations. Besides, she was as much to blame as he was for the breakdown of the marriage.
So I went for meals with father and his second wife. Met my half brother and sister. We all got on fine. In fact, father and I spent all our free time together, going places, holding hands. We shopped together; I joined them for supper after concerts.
It was like a love affair! Catching up with all that love and affection we'd both missed out on.
One day, we were sat together on the settee, holding hands, as we often did, chatting away about our lost years. We'd had a few glasses of wine, so there was lots of laughter between us as we remembered some of the silly things we did together, games we played in the garden when I was but a girl. We turned to face each other. Our smiling eyes met and held each other for a few seconds. Then they turned serious. I leaned over and kissed him fully on the lips.
'Hmmm! I've wanted to do that for a long time,' I sighed. 'For twenty-two years!' and I laughed.
'Me too,' he replied. 'You'll never know how much.'
Our faces were still close to each other, gazing into the other's eyes. He pressed his lips to mine and we kissed again. This time, with closed eyes, more fervently. As the kiss lingered, dad put his left arm round my neck and we drew each other into a proper lovers' clinch. I was in seventh heaven. I snuggled in close to him. I felt the protection I'd missed all during those years. And I was getting my own back on my mum for keeping me away from my father for so long.
It seemed the natural thing for him to put his hand over my left tit, stroking and squeezing as we kissed, as lovers do. I didn't try to stop him. In fact, I wanted him to feel me, cuddle and fondle me, his long lost daughter.
'I missed you growing up. Thought about you an awful lot, you know. Did you have many boyfriends?' he asked me.
'Oh ... Quite a few. I was something of a tearaway as a teenager, I'm afraid. Mum and gran couldn't control me. I think I was searching for you, really. Most of the lads I went with tended to be a bit older. They groped me and I would toss them off. One or two of the nice ones I allowed to fuck me.'
'Took after your mum, then!' He laughed.
'Did you fuck mum a lot? Was she very sexy? Was she good?' I asked casually.
He laughed at the forthright question.
'Two or three times a week, I seem to remember. Until she got herself involved with other men, that is. At first, we just did it. You know ... there was no clever stuff.'
'What did you do when she went astray?'
'I found myself a mistress. Pauline. She seemed very quiet and staid, but I found out that she was sex mad. We fucked two or three times a day whenever we could – then I'd go home late and fuck your mother – who had probably already had it from her lover.'
'That's a lot of action,' I laughed. Then suddenly asked, 'will you play with my tits properly? I'd like you to.'
It was a spur of the moment thing. I wanted him to feel my tits. Gaze at my body, as lovers do! So I broke away from him, unbuttoned my blouse and unclasped the bra. Fortunately, I was wearing a front fastening sort. My tits literally fell out. He stared down at them in almost disbelief. But I took hold of his head and pressed it down to the nipple. He latched onto it and suckled and fondled the large bag of flesh. It was utterly wonderful to have my dad feeling my flesh. We were part of each other again.
I have big tits, but they're sloppy! They just hang like bags of flesh with large blotchy areolas and dark chocolaty-coloured wrinkled nipples. But I love to have them squeezed and caressed. I enjoy them being kissed as well. And that's what he was doing.
There was one other thing I wanted more than anything at that moment. To see and to play with the cock that had been my mother's toy for many years. To take from her that memory of father's cock. So, as he paid close attention to my left tit, I managed to unbuckle his waistband and unzip his flies. I felt his cock inside there, fully erect. It felt wonderful! Then it came into view. It wanted me!! Hard and stiff. I dragged it out of his underpants. It wasn't enormous, or anything like that. A little above average perhaps – just over six inches, and fairly thick, but it was really beautiful! Pale, straight and smooth. I stared at its proud stiffness. It was love at first sight. I never knew anyone could fall in love with an object – a cock. It was incredible. It was as if it had a life all of its own.
Pushing him away from my tit, I bent down to take a closer look. To worship it. Make love to it. To taste it. To take the idol between my lips. Wow! I loved it! Studying every bit if skin, the floppy foreskin. I licked it all over, fondled the wrinkled balls. I was over the moon with joy. I was sucking on the cock that had fucked mother! It was now mine. I had stolen it for myself. I knew then that I just had to have it inside me.
'You have boobs just like your mother,' he said quietly. 'Lots of flesh but very little muscle to keep them upright! Plenty to play with, though! With those big, big brown areolas and sagging nipples.'
As I shrugged out of my blouse and bra, I slid onto the floor between his legs, pulling his trousers and underpants down to his ankles. The full glory of his gorgeous genitals were in front of me. I didn't care what he thought of me – I just wanted to feel him. Be close to him. Smell him.
'You gorgeous thing!' I whispered to it. 'You are so so handsome. I adore you.' I kissed the cock again and again. Glorying in it, worshipping it. My idol. 'I am going to bury you deep inside my body. I shall keep you there for ever and ever, feeling your hardness wrapped in my warm, wet flesh.'
Taking hold of the straight shaft, I started to pump it with my mouth, swallowing its entire length into my throat. I had practised deep-throat way back, to give my boyfriends a thrill. As the head plugged my throat, I swallowed and swallowed to stimulate the cock. His loins were shaking with passion. But I didn't want him to come just yet, though. It was time to take off my skirt and pants and get down to business.
'I want you to fuck me properly, dad,' I said, getting up to undress. 'I need your cock inside me. I want to feel what mum felt when you fucked her.' With a dry mouth, standing before him, naked from the waist down, I opened my legs to show him my wide vulva, thick lipped with a dark bush spreading over my engorged groin and belly. My inner labia are thick, long embarrassing things. They dangle a good inch or more from the gash. Thick, dark, crumpled flaps of wet flesh hanging from the gash. My stubby clit was erect and could be seen protruding from its hood, where the hair grew thickest.
'Is my cunt like mum's as well?' I asked in a breathless voice.
'Just like your mum,' he said, eyes glued to my bush. 'Big, sloppy and hairy.' He took hold of my hips and drew me towards him. Fastening his mouth over my vulva, he took the bunch of labia, filling his mouth and chewed lightly on them. I shuddered with delight at having my fanny in his mouth. When he gripped my clit between his teeth I lurched as though an electric shock had jolted me. Mum must have enjoyed that feeling with him, I thought. I was shaking with exhilaration and anticipation. I needed to have that cock! I must have it straight away!
I pulled him forward on the seat of the settee until his buttocks were resting on the front edge, before myself kneeling on the cushions, either side of his waist. Straddling his thighs, I pulled my labia apart, held my breath in incredible expectation, and lowered my fanny against the head of his cock. This was the moment I had yearned for over the years. The moment of truth, of supreme joy. Final fulfilment! His masterful cock was about to conquer me just as it had conquered mum. I was dripping with lust. I can't remember being so drenched. The head of his cock was at the mouth of my dripping cunt. I lowered myself slowly and deliberately onto the solid shaft. Hmmm! Absolute ecstasy! Sheer bliss!
I threw my arms round his neck, whispering hoarsely, more to myself than to him. 'Oh, dad! Oh, yea! That's wonderful. Oh! Oh yea! Fill me with your cock, dad. Yea! That's it! Fill me up.'
Little by little, the idol submerged deep into my belly. Into the very core of me.
My whole body was alive with trickling sensations. My skin tingled. My groin lurched and twitched within. The feeling of excitement grew stronger. The muscles inside me tensed and tightened, like a coiled spring. Dad was now fully embedded inside my soaking wet fanny. My cunt! His cock filling my cunt. The cunt I love. The cunt that gave me such wonderful sensations. My own private cunt! My precious slit! I had offered up the secret of my most treasured possession to my father. I adored it. I felt like an incestuous Greek goddess. With great deliberation and tenderness, I moved myself up and down the thick shaft as it relished in the exploration of my shrine of mystery and rapture.
'Oooo! I love it! I love you father. Let me feel your cock – the cock that made me - deep inside your daughter's cunt. Her most private possession!'
As I bounced up and down on him, every nerve concentrating on feeling the cock slide in and out of my wet passage, he kissed and bit both nipples, and fondled both tits eagerly. My mind was bursting with carnal images. It was all much too thrilling for us both, I thought. I felt the tension building up in my belly. I started clutching for it. Reaching into my groin for the elusive orgasm. I grappled with my clit to help bring it out. Father was grunting and panting, lurching at me with his loins – pushing against my thrusts. I was breathing hard and groaning with ecstasy as the thrill rippled through my groin again an again.
'I'm coming! I'm coming!' I blurted, gasping for breath.
It couldn't last. I came first. I couldn't hold back any more. The dam burst inside. It was terrific! Mind blowing! I cried out with release as I bounced violently on his cock. I yelled!
'Yes! Oh, yes, yes! Yes, yes, yes!! Ah-h-h-h!'
Then I felt him lunging into me erratically. He was coming. Yes! Spasms! Yes! And again! Again! Again! Once more! He was spurting inside me, his daughter! Seven spasms, seven splashes of sperm! Father's sperm swimming inside my cunt!
I collapsed panting on his shoulders panting for breath. He was breathless as well. We lay exhausted in each other's arms for several minutes. Wallowing in our newfound pleasure.
'That was great. You make a great lover dad.'
'Nonsense. You did all the work!'
I suddenly giggled in his ear. 'Just think, there's millions of little brothers and sisters swimming around in my fanny. I might get pregnant with my own brother! I could be my own half-sister.'
'What? You are protected, aren't you?'
'Course, silly! But it's a lovely thought. Don't move.'
I slowly eased myself off his cock, allowing the thick sperm to dribble out of my fanny onto his softening shaft, before sliding down between his legs and encasing his whole cock in my mouth. I tasted his sperm mingling with my own juices. Dad's essence! I licked it clean. It tasted cool!!
'Now I'm eating them,' I giggled. 'Now, we are really together again. Inseparable!'
I kept on licking and sucking his cock. It was still half swollen. I pulled him onto the carpet.
'Can you get another hard on? Then we can make love without rushing, and celebrate every second of our reunion.'
And I straddled over him in sixty-nine, presenting my lush fanny to his mouth whilst I concentrated on getting him hard again.
He did. And we made love beautifully together. For the last time.