Erotic Stories

Daddy’s Home – Part 3

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The next day, I woke up and immediately remembered my boyfriend, Brad. I was mad at myself for cheating on him, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like the biggest loss. Either way, I knew what I had to do. I met up with him for a coffee and gently broke the news that I wasn’t really in the right head space to be in a relationship at that moment. He was much more understanding than I had expected, but I knew he wouldn’t have been if he’d known the truth. I could still barely believe what had happened between me and dad, but I wasn’t regretting it. It had just been too damn good. If anything, now I’d had a taste, I wanted even more. I knew it was fucked up, I really did, and I knew I was risking a lot by doing it, but I didn’t care. It was still worth it. Oh, so worth it. 

Over the next couple of months, we fucked at least once a week. Each time, he never failed to impress or surprise me. The sex was just mind-blowing, and he always managed to make me feel new kinds of delights. I realized that mom had been a lucky woman, at least, before the accident. She was still unresponsive, and the doctors were no longer sure that she would wake up. Still, I visited her weekly and talked to her with more ease than when she’d been present in my life. It was a strange dynamic, but it worked. At least she wasn’t dead. Dad hadn’t switched back to hating me for a while, too, which made my life much easier. That version of him was always so cold and mean. It was the man I hated, to be honest, the man who’d abandoned me. The less I saw of that side of him, the better. It sounds terrible, but I didn’t want him to fully recover, and for that man to come back. I wanted to maintain the status quo; carry on looking after him, carry on being a loving daughter, carry on fucking him. 

So that’s exactly what I did. I just pushed aside the fact that I must be sick in the head and did what I wanted to do. I began to get brazen in fulfilling my needs, too. Sometimes, on his good days, when we were a loving father and daughter again, I would find myself craving him. We’d be mid-conversation, and I would excuse myself to go and smoke a cigarette. Minutes later, he’d be all over me, and we’d end up having sex for hours and hours. I just couldn’t help myself, it was the best sex of my life. It did feel strange sometimes, going from being his loving daughter to being his slut wife, but I just ran with it. Besides, I kind of got a kick out of it, too. It was just so bad. I was so bad. 

On one of dad’s good days, we were working out in the gym together. We loved to be a little competitive with each other, so we were doing a timed race on the cycle machines. He was beating me by a couple of kilometers, playfully taunting me the whole time. I loved seeing him happy. It was in moments like those that I felt truly at home again, like when I was younger. Just me and my dad, bonding together and joking around. It was as if all the years of shit had never happened. After a while, dad predictably beat me, throwing his hands in the air like he’d just won the Tour de France. As I chuckled away at his silly victory pose, I accidentally caught sight of a bulge in his shorts. He wasn’t hard, but just seeing the outline of his dick was enough to get me going. A terrible, filthy thought crossed my mind, seemingly from nowhere. I knew it was a risky idea, but I was starting to enjoy the risk. It was such a thrill. I’d been getting the urge to be so kinky lately, I just wanted to do things I knew were wrong. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t want to question it too much, either. 

I hopped off the exercise bike and told him I’d be back in a minute. I felt my heart thudding hard in my chest, and I knew it wasn’t just because of the workout. I was excited and terrified, thinking about what I was about to do. I grabbed my cigarettes and lighter from my room, and went back into the gym. He carried on cycling, just doing a light cool down, and I sat myself down on a yoga mat, making myself comfortable. 

“So, what are we doing after this, then?” he asked.

“Oh, I don’t mind, dad,” I said, subtly pulling out a smoke and concealing it in my hand. “What do you want to do?”

“Well, I thought that we could head into town and pick up some dinner. Then, maybe we could go for a walk along the river. It’s such a beautiful day. Sound good, kiddo?” he asked.

“Sounds great,” I said.

“Awesome,” he said. “You know, I was thinking, maybe we should get some new equipment for the gym. Maybe a rowing machine. I could beat you on that, too.”

As he carried on talking about equipment, I slipped off my leggings and pushed them aside. He noticed but just carried on with what he was saying, as he cycled. He must have thought I was getting changed, or something. With my lighter and cigarette in hand, I quickly slid my panties off and spread my legs wide. Now I had his attention.

“Miley, what are you doing?” he asked, surprised.

“Why don’t you come and eat my pussy, dad?” I asked, dipping one hand into myself.

My heart was fucking racing like crazy. This was, by far, the riskiest thing I had done yet. I couldn’t believe how utterly wild it felt, as I stroked my pussy and stared at him.

“What the fuck, Miley?!” he said, raising his voice. 

I’d left it long enough. I took my hand from between my legs and grabbed my lighter. I popped the cigarette between my lips and flicked the lighter down with my thumb. It didn’t light. I tried again, but it still didn’t light. I desperately flicked away at it, to no avail. I looked up at dad, horror and panic in my eyes. I hadn’t planned for this, I hadn’t planned for this shit at all. I returned my attention to the lighter, again trying in vain to ignite it, but it was no use. It was fucked. I was fucked. I’d only wanted to be a little adventurous, and play with myself in front of him while he still thought I was his daughter. I was gonna light the smoke, trigger him back to thinking I was mom, then have my way with him. This was the last thing I’d thought would happen.  

Dad stopped cycling and slowly got off his bike. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his head, and slowly walked over to me. He sat down in front of me, and my heart almost stopped. I held my breath, unable to move or speak. What the hell had I done? It felt like we were just sitting in silence for eternity. What was happening? Was he furious with me? Was I about to get shouted at? Or, was he actually going to eat my pussy? After a billion more crazy thoughts, I saw his lips begin moving to speak. I jumped up.

“Oh, my fucking God. I’m so sorry!” I said, before bolting out of the room. 

I ran into my bedroom, pulled on some more leggings, and immediately fled the house. I couldn’t believe how stupid I’d been. I was shaking like mad, adrenaline surging through me. I got straight in the car and just drove. I needed to get as far away as I could. I ended up driving for hours, terrified that he was going to call the hospital or the police, the whole time. By the point I’d gathered enough courage to go home, it was dark. I pulled the car up to the house, trembling with fear. I quietly slipped into the house, my senses on high alert, trying to gauge what exactly I was walking into. I honestly expected to find officers waiting for me, but instead, I found dad just watching TV quietly. His first words were to ask who I was. I was relieved but still devastated. Just because he forget, didn’t mean I did. I made us some dinner, and we sat in relative silence as we ate. I could barely look at him, let alone talk. After he went to bed, I did the same. I needed sleep. I needed to calm down. I needed to forget everything.

The next day, he was the same. I just busied myself with my usual duties and avoided him as much as possible. As terrible and jarring as the previous day had been, something was still playing on my mind. When he had been sitting in front of me on the yoga mat, I hadn’t given him the chance to talk, I just ran away. I wanted to know what he was going to say. Was he actually mad? He hadn’t seemed it, at least I didn’t think he had. Or, was he going to eat me out? The thought sounded crazy, though, he would never have let that happen. Would he? I couldn’t tell, and it was driving me crazy. With no answers available, I had to just leave it. I wasn’t going to take that kind of risk again, either, so there was no point thinking about it.

The weeks rolled by. As usual, he was mostly the same, not remembering anything. On the times when he remembered who I was, I was distant with him. He didn’t remember each separate time we were like father and daughter, so he had no recollection of what had happened in the gym, but I still knew and it was eating me up. I found it hard to be close to him, even when he wanted to spend quality time with me. Despite the amnesia, he was quite an astute man, and he could tell when I was keeping him at arm’s length. I could tell it saddened him, and I felt even worse for it. As such, I started withdrawing and only helping him with the bare minimum. I had stopped smoking again, too, and we hadn’t had sex since before the gym session. It was just all too much. I felt lower than pond scum. Sometimes, all you need is to make a stupid fucking mistake to wake you up to the fact that you’re an absolute mess.

One evening, after an especially shitty day, I decided I needed a God damn drink. I popped into town quickly and picked up a bottle of wine. I was sad, frustrated, angry, and confused. I needed to drown my miseries. After dad had gone to bed, I sat in the living room and opened up the bottle. I wanted to drink it so badly. I wanted to just tip the bottle up and pour it all down my throat, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t become my mother. The thought repulsed me. So, instead, I just sat brooding in the dark, making myself angry. I was angry that I’d fucked things up, angry that I was stuck in this crazy situation, and angry at dad. I wasn’t sure why, I just was. I mean, he had abandoned me, maybe I was just furious about that. 

As I continued not drinking in the dark, I heard a noise. He was up. Usually, I knew what that would mean, but I hadn’t been smoking. What was going on? I turned my gaze toward his bedroom door, and after a few seconds, he appeared. He rubbed his eyes and walked over to the couch. As I studied him, I could tell something was different. This wasn’t the forgetful dad, it wasn’t the loving dad, and it wasn’t the horny husband. No, this was the worst version. 

“Miley…” he said, suddenly focusing on me. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I sighed, wishing I’d finished the entire bottle of wine. I’d gotten used to dealing with this side of him, but I wasn’t in the mood. 

“I’m looking after you, dad,” I said, with a little more attitude than I had wanted. 

“I don’t need you to look after me. And, I’m not your dad!” he said, his temper quickly flaring.

We went back and forth for a little while, and he demanded to know where mom was. I explained the situation to him again, for the hundredth time. 

“I want you to go!” he shouted.

“No, I can’t go, dad,” I said, defeated.

“I keep telling you, I’m not your dad!” he said.

I was so fed up with him. I just felt a rage building up inside me. All the years of being without him, of knowing that he abandoned me, of feeling discarded and unwanted, it all just came bubbling to the surface. I couldn’t keep my patience with him anymore. 

“Well, you were my fucking dad!” I shouted back. “But, no, I get it. You don’t want to be anymore. Real good of you!”

“Don’t talk to me like that in my own home,” he scowled. “You’ve no idea…no idea what it’s like, to find out that the child you thought was yours is actually someone else’s.”

“Just because we’re not blood, doesn’t mean you had to fucking leave me!” I shouted. 

He looked away, shaking his head, muttering some hurtful insults. That was it, I was done. I wasn’t going to just stand there and take his shit.

“Oh, why don’t you just eat my ass?” I said, flipping him off. 

“I told you not to talk to me like that,” he said, pointing at me. 

“No, I’m serious,” I lied, “come and eat my fucking ass. Go on.”

I stood up and turned around, sticking out my butt. I wasn’t serious, of course, I was just furious and wanted to give him attitude. 

“Fuck you, Miley!” he said, storming off to his bedroom.

He continued cursing at me as he marched off, and I just shook my head. I couldn’t believe how much of a bastard he was being. Why couldn’t he just love me? Was it really that difficult? I threw myself back into the couch, absolutely fuming. I could only see red. I just wanted to smash something. I picked up the full bottle of wine, and pulled back my arm, ready to throw it through the window. Just before I did, a thought came to me. I slammed the bottle back down onto the coffee table. If he was going to be unreasonable and a prick, so was I. I stood up and tore off my clothes, leaving them in a messy pile on the floor. I stomped towards his bedroom and threw open the door, standing completely naked in front of him. He was sitting in his bed, arms folded.

“What the hell are you doing?!” he raged.

“I am serious, actually,” I said, still lying.

I crawled onto the end of his bed, turned around so that my ass was facing him, and bent over. I pulled my cheeks apart and turned my head to face him.

“Come and eat my ass!” I demanded.

“Miley, I’m-” he began in an angry tone.

“What? What?!” I shouted. “You said it yourself, you’re not my dad. So, you should have no problem with eating it.”

I still wasn’t serious, I just wanted to be rebellious, to anger him further. I was so enraged with him that I was practically shaking.

“What are you waiting for?!” I shouted.

I turned my head away from him and just stuck my ass higher into the air, wiggling it around. I knew he wasn’t going to do anything, but I really wanted to piss him off. I wanted him to be as angry as I was. 

“Miley, you are my daughter,” he said, his tone still firm, but not as angry, now. 

I was about to yell something back at him when I suddenly felt a warm, wet feeling slide onto my ass. My eyes widened, as I felt his hands grip my ass cheeks, pulling them apart. His tongue slid all over my asshole, and I didn’t even think, I just reacted. My hand found my pussy and I began vigorously playing with myself. I let out a series of slutty moans, as dad’s tongue pushed into my tight hole. I couldn’t actually believe he was doing this, or why he was suddenly saying that I was his daughter, but I didn’t care. This was way too kinky to focus on anything else.

He continued eating my ass for ages, smacking my cheeks hard as he went. I’d never actually had someone lick my asshole before, but I was loving it. Eventually, he pulled away, and I wasted no time at all. I spun around and pushed him back onto the bed. I practically fell on top of him and took his hard cock into my mouth. I slurped him deep into my throat, stroking furiously. I had so much pent-up anger and sexual frustration, and I wanted to take it all out on him. I heard him moan slightly, and surprisingly, it just hit me the wrong way. I popped him out of my mouth and sat up. 

“Why the fuck are you now saying that I’m your daughter, after all these years? And why say it before eating my ass?!” I demanded to know. 

“I…look, it’s…it’s not easy,” he said, looking up at me. 

I wasn’t happy with his reply. I snatched his dick into my hand and angrily stroked him.

“Yes?!” I barked. “Carry on, dickhead!”

“I…oh, God…” he moaned.

“Fucking focus!” I snapped, still furiously rubbing him.

“This hasn’t exactly been easy for me, you know,” he struggled to reply.

“Join the fucking club!” I said.

He huffed loudly and looked away from me. I was raging, just full of wrath and desire. I wasn’t going to be ignored so easily. I got on top of him, straddled his dick, and guided it into my soaking pussy. I pushed down and felt him stretching into me. I swung my head back and let out a deep, long moan. Once I’d regained my senses, I forcefully pressed my hands against his chest to balance myself, and looked him dead in the eyes, as I began to ride him.

“Come on, tell me how fucking hard it’s been for you!” I shouted.

I could tell from his expression that he couldn’t believe what was happening, but I could also tell that he was loving it. Fucking him was something I’d grown pretty used to, but this was completely new for him; to dad, this was the first time we’d done this.

“Your mother cheated on me, Miley!” he shouted back. “And I found out you weren’t mine!”

I rode him with a stronger, more powerful pace, making sure to slam my ass down hard onto him. 

“And, what? That’s a good enough reason to leave?” I said, trying not to give him the satisfaction of hearing me moan. 

His hands slid up my legs and gripped my ass cheeks.

“No!” I said, slapping his hands away. “I want to hear you say it! I want to hear why you left me all alone!”

He didn’t answer me. He was clearly enjoying the feeling of my pussy wrapped around his big, hard dick. I stopped riding him and leaned closer to him, so that my face was right next to his. 

“Tell me!” I demanded.

“Because I was weak!” he cried out. “I was stupid, and a coward, and weak, okay? I fucking panicked and I left. I regretted it every day. Every single fucking day!”

My expression sank. I hadn’t expected to hear that from him. In truth, I didn’t know what I had expected, but it wasn’t that. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, softly. “I’m so, so sorry. I know it means nothing, but I’m sorry.”

I remained still, thinking about what he’d said. It didn’t make up for the years of hurt and loneliness, but it still meant a lot to me to hear him say it. 

“I get it,” I said. “I do. It doesn’t mean I forgive you, and it doesn’t excuse what you did. But, I get it.”

“So…” he began, looking at us in disbelief, “what the hell are we doing? Jesus! We should stop.”

Ever so slowly, I edged back on his dick and began gently riding him again.

“We’re fucking, daddy,” I said, a devilish grin on my face. “And, no, we shouldn’t stop.”

His eyes widened. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of my mouth, but I could tell that he liked it. I grabbed his hands and brought them to my ass. He gripped my cheeks hard, and I bit my lip in response. I could barely believe what was happening, either. 

“But, we-” he began.

I put my finger to his lips, then took my breasts into my hands, pushing them together and caressing them. I picked up my rhythm and began to ride his thickness with a little more enthusiasm. 

“But-” he tried to say, once more.

I put my finger to his lips again, growing frustrated. 

“You’re going to fill your daughter’s pussy full of cum, okay?” I said calmly, keeping my finger to his lips.

He just stared at me for a moment, then nodded. Satisfied with his response, I took my finger from him and continued massaging my breasts. 

“I’ve been a bad girl, and daddy needs to punish me,” I said, smiling.

He didn’t need any further encouragement. He began pushing deeper into me, pulling my ass down with every thrust he made. I rolled my eyes back, loving the feeling of being stretched out again. I bucked up and down on him, enjoying the ride of my life. I felt like a nasty bitch. So filthy. So slutty. So wrong. We’d finally reconciled, and he’d finally accepted that I was his daughter, and we were still fucking anyway. It was the kinkiest feeling in the world. 

He suddenly threw me off him and quickly repositioned me so that I was on all fours. I happily let him do what he wanted. He got behind me and I felt his length slide into me again. I let out a long moan and pushed back into him until he was fully inside me. He took hold of my ass cheeks and began fucking me like I knew he could. He didn’t hold back. I felt like my pussy was going to explode with how rough he was being, but I wasn’t going to tell him to stop. It was too damn good. 

“Yes, daddy! Fuck that little pussy!” I cried out.

I could hear his grunts and groans, as he railed away at me with a vigor I hadn’t felt from him before. It turned me on so much. I slipped my hand between my legs and began flicking my fingers across my clit. This was so much more insane than before. He’d just thought I was someone else, then, but now he knew exactly who I was and we were still going at it like animals. It wasn’t long at all before I felt an orgasm building within me. It felt huge, like a tsunami was growing within. I let out a long scream as his thrusts pushed me over the edge.

“I’m cumming, dad!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. 

As I climaxed, I felt a huge pressure within me still, and it only kept growing. I felt like I was going to burst. I reached behind me and pushed him back so that his dick fell out of me. As soon as I did, I felt myself violently explode. I gushed and gushed all over him, totally soaking his chest and cock. I shook like I was going to break apart, screaming the entire time. I’d never experienced such a powerful orgasm, and I’d never squirted before, either. It was so fucking intense. 

“Jesus Christ!” I heard him say, in disbelief. 

Just as soon as I’d finished covering him, he slipped back into me and resumed fucking my pussy with all his strength. I fell into the bed and just let him have his way with me. I was too drained to do anything else, at that moment. My moans continued, and I happily listened to his big dick slopping in and out of me. I was in heaven, but I wanted him to be in heaven, too.

“It’s your turn to cum, daddy,” I said. “Come on, fill me up. Fill up your daughter.”

His moans changed into a deep growl, and he picked up his pace. I could tell he was enjoying my dirty talk. 

“Please, daddy! Give it to me!” I begged. “I want it. I want it so badly! Cum inside me!”

He let out a huge roar and I smiled as I felt him shooting into me. 

“Yes, daddy, yes! That’s it. Fucking fill me! Fill me up with everything you’ve got!” I moaned. 

He didn’t stop, he just kept flooding my pussy with thick, warm cum. It was such an amazing feeling. I just wanted to be full, totally and completely full of my dad’s cum. Eventually, his pace slowed, and I could feel the last spurts shooting into me. Once he was done, he pulled out, and I spun around onto my back. 

“Did you enjoy cumming inside me, daddy?” I asked, as innocently as I could, batting my eyelids.

“God, yes!” he replied.

“I know you’re not done,” I said, spreading my legs for him. “Come and give me some more.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and positioned himself between my legs. Within moments, I was full of his rock-hard cock again, and being fucked hard into the bed. He lasted much longer, this time. He fucked me for what felt like hours, in all sorts of positions. He made me cum constantly, and I even squirted for him again. Eventually, I found myself on my knees, with him standing over me. I was sliding his dick all the way into my throat, stroking him, and playing with his balls. I kept my eyes fixed on his the entire time.

“You want daddy’s cum?” he asked, looking down at me. 

I nodded, still slobbering all over his shaft. I knew it was coming and I couldn’t wait.

“Oh, fuck!” he cried out. 

He began moaning, and I felt him throwing huge ropes of his warm load into my mouth. We kept our gaze locked, as I continually swallowed everything that he was pumping into me. It was such an incredibly hot experience. 

“Oh, yes, baby. Drink it all up!” he said. 

I did. I drank every fucking drop until there was nothing else left. I pulled him free and gasped for air, smiling wildly. 

“You enjoy that?” he asked.

“Yes, daddy,” I replied, wiping my mouth clean. 

He held out his hand and helped me to my feet. I took a moment to regain my balance, but I was dizzy as hell and fell into him. He caught me with his big arms and held onto me. I just rested my head on his chest, still panting heavily. It had been amazing, more than that, life-changing. I suspected it wasn’t going to be the end of our sessions, either. I looked up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” I said, still savoring the taste of him in my mouth.

“I love you, too,” he replied. 

We returned to bed and just rested a while in each other’s arms. It was perfect. We inevitably fell asleep, though, and I woke the next day in a panic; I had no idea who he was going to be that day. As I regained my composure, I calmed myself a little. It didn’t really matter who he was going to be, or if he could recall anything. Whatever happened, I was going to help him remember, over and over and over again.

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