by Adrian Amos
“Yes, daddy, yes! Keep going, keep going!”
It takes only a dozen sucking motions to build a tsunami of intense pressure just above my pussy, stacking waves from the turbulent seas below, rocking my boat violently, threatening to capsize me.
“Oh god!” I scream, contradicting myself through a foggy mind, “No, daddy, no!”
The waves send me over, kinetic energy discharging through daddy's mouth, rippling outward and convulsing every muscle it passes through. I shake and spasm, the twitching of my atrophied muscles leading to cramping and exhaustion, a workout they haven't felt in a long time.
But what a goddamn workout! I've never been so happy to have been brought low by physical exertion. It brings tears to my eyes as my body dies down and the energy dissipates through my limbs. I sputter a few times, the sizzling heat escaping my mouth.
Daddy crawls up to me. “Are you okay?”
I nod, unwilling to speak as I pull him over to me. Tasting myself on him isn't so bad, but all I desire is daddy's warmth on me. I kiss him for a good while, enjoying my comfort with him until I'm sure my body's ready to go.
Daddy might think we're done, but I know we're not. I'll fight through all the discomfort that comes at me to ensure daddy comes out of my room a happy man.
I push daddy's shoulder so he falls onto his back—although, I'll admit, he laid back rather than succumbed to my feeble push. I climb on top of him, straddling his hips with mine.
“Be careful, babygirl,” he warns.
“I will, daddy.” I fumble with the buttons of his shirt, pulling apart each one in slow succession. Daddy watches with admiration, not once lifting a finger to help. The man has all the patience in the world when it comes to me.
I grab my own corset from the bottom hem, pulling it up. My motion, though, is so restricted and my muscles so exhausted, I can't get it much further than my belly button.
In frustration, I drop it. “Daddy, can you help me, please?”
“Sure. Arms up, babycakes.”
I lift my arms and daddy slides the lingerie over my head. Now in just my lace stockings, I lean forward into daddy, steadying myself with my hands on his chest. Pushing backwards, I grind on his cock through his pants, using all my strength to press down on him firmly.
I feel clumsy, like a child trying to figure out her first steps.
The more I try, the more I want to stop. “I'm sorry, daddy.”
But daddy only smiles, “It's okay, babycakes, take it slow. We have all day.” His hands go to my tits, lightly caressing them, molding the flesh, pinching the nipples and bringing them to attention. It's something so silly I have to laugh to myself. He plays with my breasts like he's comforting me, like they're a switch that calms me.
And the funniest thing is he's right! It's a confirmation that I shouldn't feel stupid for how hard I try because the man in front of me would never judge me in a million years.
It only gives me all the determination I need to continue pleasing my daddy.
I scoot backwards, giving myself ample room to slowly maneuver his pants from him. I pull at the button—a task I'm getting better and better at just today!—unzip him, and work my butt off to remove his pants one leg at a time.
“Good girl. You're doing a great job.”
“Thank you, daddy.”
When I pull down his boxers, the shock in my eyes makes daddy laugh. His cock is so thick! It's a hunk of meat like nothing I've ever seen. He's semi-erect, and in my delight, when my fingers circle around it, it bulges, hardening to the touch.
I lift it up and without thinking, a lust overcomes me, and I place the rod in my mouth. The groan from daddy is the most delicious part, my tongue flattening against the bottom of his shaft. I move carefully, taking daddy in a little at a time, savoring every morsel as I adjust my mouth to accommodate him.
When I feel comfortable enough, I dip into him, pushing his pole down my throat.
“Oh shit.” Daddy's mouth slackens as he groans to the ceiling.
Nothing makes me happier than to hear daddy's ecstasy at my touch. I push down on him, sucking in his entire cock, letting it rest in my mouth as I fight my gag reflex. I'm able to constrain it, instead heavily salivating. When I pull up a little, a film of saliva coats him all over.
I pull off him, speaking through ragged breaths, “Do you like when I suck on your cock, daddy?”
“I love it. Your mouth is so warm and wet.”
I stroke his cock, spreading the warmth over the entire shaft. The greasy spit allows me to pull on his foreskin easily, dragging the flesh up and down as I beat daddy off.
“Do you...” I swallow, anxiety welling up, “want to put it inside my pussy, daddy? You said you like when it's warm and wet.”
“Come here, babycakes.”
I crawl over him, straddling his waist. He pulls my chest close to his, planting a tiny kiss on my forehead.
“Is that what you want? I don't want you to feel pressured.”
I nod. “Yes, daddy. More than anything.”
“Okay.”
I shift backwards until my ass is just over his hips. Daddy holds his cock for me, and as I gradually lower myself, the tip of his cock presses against my slit. I moan instantly, the sensitivity of my flesh still apparent. But I push through, letting daddy's huge cock break through my barrier.
I bite my lip to stifle a grunt as daddy's bulbous head splits me open. I haltingly accept daddy's offering, swallowing his cock up until I'm sitting straight down on daddy's lap.
I hold my breath, bracing myself against the pressure of him inside me. I push up with my hands and knees, lifting my cunt off his dick. I get up about halfway before falling back down on him, puncturing me with his thickness.
Just that little penetration feels fucking amazing!
But it's not what I want. I want to be able to pick myself up and slam myself down. I want to feel the power of daddy's cock pounding into me!
I can do better.
I lift myself up, getting three quarters of the way before the weakness in my arms takes over and forces me to fall.
I pick myself again, and this time, with the help of steadier knees, I nearly pull off daddy's cock, reaching the tip of his dick before slamming my body weight back down on him.
With a gleeful yip, proud of myself, I muster the strength to do it again. Each lift off becomes easier, and each drop down more pleasurable, fed by a longer entryway and the determination to succeed.
“You got this, babygirl. Keep going. Ride daddy's dick.”
I push down hard, grinding his dick as it drags along my walls. Using short hops, I jump up slightly in order to fire by ass back into daddy, using my weight like a thrust. I change up short hops with grinding, mixing the joy of penetration with the pressure of daddy's thickness.
“That feels good,” he says, his head leaning back as his hands grip my thighs. “Make daddy come. Come on, you can do it.”
“Come on, daddy,” I moan, enthusiastically grinding into him. “Come for you daughter. Come in my pussy.”
I ride daddy, my core burning as I undulate my lower back, gripping daddy's cock and maneuvering it inside me. With my last reserves of energy, I push up and down, slamming my pussy into daddy, fucking me with his cock.
I can see the buildup in his face, which drives me on. I pick up rapidly, sucking his cock in, grinding forward, lifting up, slamming down, sucking him in, grinding forward, continuously, fighting every fiber in my body that wants to quit on me.
You can't quit on me yet, body.
I won't let you.
This is for daddy.
I moan in harmony with my thrusts, digging my nails into his chest, calling out daddy over and over, using everything in my power to turn him on.
“Come in me, daddy. Come in your baby. Get her pregnant. Put a baby in me.”
“I want you, daddy. Fuck me with your huge cock. Fill my pussy up.”
“Oh yeah, daddy. You're so good to me. I'm
yours. Do whatever you want to me. You own this pussy.”
My last batch of words and energy sends him over. His fingers dig into my hips, holding onto me for dear life as his orgasm flows from him. He groans, his cock pulses, and the first shot of cum decorates my insides, heating me to the core. I grind into him, trying my best to draw every ounce from him, to mix his seed far into my cunt. He blasts his load, each throb of his cock felt through my engorged walls. Hot semen floods into me, capping off the most intense workout I've ever had.
I fall into daddy, enjoying his chest as his heart beats rapidly and his body's twitches evaporate. With the utmost care, daddy holds onto me as he turns us over, setting me softly down on the bed.
I breathe a sigh of relief as my muscles get the chance to relax.
“Hold on, babygirl. Just lay back and daddy will clean you up.” He gets up, leaves, and returns with a towel. He rubs from forehead to legs, collecting the sweat that's been soaking my skin. When he's got most of it, he lifts my legs up and cleans the cum from my pussy, back to front, wiping me down like he's changing a diaper.
I groan as the clothe rubs against me, but I also sigh as the remnants of daddy's seed is wiped away from me. The warmth flushing from my body is the most dispiriting thing I've felt in a while. But I won't fret. I know daddy's still here with me, and I know feeling down like this comes and goes. If anything, daddy's going to be with me for a long, long time, and I'll have a lot of opportunities to master the feelings of despondence after daddy cleans his cum from me.
But until then...
“All right, babycakes. We have work to do. You need to get dressed, and then we're going to take a walk to the corner market, pick up some things, and then make the trek back home.”
“Aww, daddy, do I have to?”
“You think just because you got fucked by daddy, and got a little bit more exercise than usual, that you can just skip your daily workout? Nuh uh, missy, not on my watch. Butt out of bed, we got a day ahead of us.”
Daddy the slave driver will always ensure I do what I need to lead a good life, even if the world is going to put up a fight against me. At least I know I'll always have daddy by my side for support.
And I hope there are many more days like this ahead of us yet.
- - -
Daddy Consummates Our Marriage
“My god, I can't believe I finally got to wear this today,” I say to myself, running my fingers over the lace wedding dress. It was only a few hours ago, but it all still feels like a dream. I'm still in shock it's finally happened.
I'm married to my stepdad. Or he was my stepdad... I don't know. Who knows if I can adapt to thinking about him in any other way. The thought is so new I can't wholly wrap my mind around it.
He spoils me, as this eight thousand dollar dress attests. I think even now, as I wait in our hotel room, he still treats me like his daughter. I didn't like the champagne they had delivered to us, so he made it his mission to go to the desk and demand a new bottle with a better taste. Still, he treats me like his little princess.
Can I be both his wife and his little girl? Does it even matter if I'm both at the same time?
I think everyone else cares rather than me. The looks on their faces at the wedding. Yeah, they played it nice at the rehearsal dinner and at the reception itself, saying congratulations and all that. But when I walked down the aisle in my dress, my god... the looks they gave me showed their true intentions. They were like the snarls of wolves watching the lamb go by.
They couldn't hide it then, no matter the coy words they used before and after.
And I don't know who gave it to me worse, my side or daddy's side. I don't know what they were thinking, but I'm sure the word nympho came up a number of times in their judgmental little heads.
But I'm not. Daddy and I haven't even had sex yet. I just... love him, with all my heart. When my mom cheated on him and ditched me—and I mean ditched me, as I haven't heard a word in the past year from her—he was there to pick up the pieces. I'm a grown woman, but I was sheltered throughout my life, and my mom disappearing on me was shattering to my psyche. I'm sure it hurt him like hell when she left, too, but in his strength he pushed it all away to take care of me. He was the man for me, I knew it then and there. You can't choose your parents, but you can choose the man you want to be with.
My only blood parent absconded with the last piece of my naivete. I'm not an idiot little girl as all these people believe. I'm not some sucker who's fallen on hard times and turned to the only person in my life looking for love. I'm a woman who's realized the good things in life could disappear at any moment, and I'd be foolish to let him slip from my grasp.
I guess I was also worried. If my mom wasn't around, then what was keeping him from being my daddy anymore? It scared me more than I was willing to admit for a while.
I love him, but I won't be afraid to admit anymore that if he wasn't going to me my daddy, then I was going to make him my husband. I want him, even if it's all to myself.
Although, I don't think it'll be just the two of us for long.
When the door opens, I'm no closer to an answer than I was this morning. But the man in front of me gives me his patented smile, curled at the end in a devious smirk, glad to have achieved something that makes me happy.
“I got it, babygirl,” he says, proffering a bottle in the air, “freshest champagne in the whole state, I'm sure.”
“I'm certain it is.” I clear my throat, “David.”
He smiles. “It's hard to say, isn't it?”
I nod, embarrassed I'm so easy to read.
He shrugs. “You don't have to call me that.”
“But you're my husband.”
“But you can still call me daddy all you want. I'm not going to judge, and I'll show anyone the curve of my knuckles if they have anything to say about it.” He throws his fist up, half-threatening, half-joking.
“Are you sure?” I fidget with the champagne flute. “I... don't want you to feel weird, either.”
“Babygirl, I'll never feel weird with you.” He cracks open the bottle, fizzy alcohol spilling over the edge. He takes my glass, filling it for me before filling his own. As he hands it back, his hand meets mine, and his other caresses the curve of my jaw. “You and I. Forever. No matter what.”
I blush, oddly flustered by the sentiment. I just married the man! I shouldn't still feel like this, but something about daddy makes me all bubbly inside, and I haven't even tasted the champagne yet!
I do, trying to wash away my own awkwardness. The bubbles tickle my nose, and as I set the flute down, my stupid anxiety acts up, wanting to deny me the happiness of the day. “I don't want you to settle for me if I become too hard for you.”
I spent the last few minutes decrying everyone for being so negative, and here I go doing the same damn thing, thinking of myself as a burden that's only going to weigh daddy down in the future. What if he's doing it all because he feels bad for me?
But daddy doesn't play my silly games, his voice stern and unrepentant. “That'll never happen. Understand?”
I nod. His tone is so strong it reminds me that we're both going through the same thing. We both saw those people, we both saw how they criticized us while we weren't looking, knowing deep down that everything out of their mouths was trivial placating. Daddy felt it just as much as I did, and my own doubts steeled him even further.
“I love you, babygirl, and I wouldn't give you up for anything. There's nothing wrong when a man and a woman love each other, no matter their circumstances.”
“I know, daddy.”
His face softens immediately, his eyes relaxing into a focused pleasure. “I love when you call me that. You shouldn't worry about calling me anything else.” His hand slips around my side, brushing over the sheer corset I wore under the wedding dress hanging in the closet.
I shiver. This isn't just daddy's love touching me; this is daddy's lust. Something he's kept from me for the most part, keeping our rela
tionship pure and uncorrupted. He's never pushed boundaries with me throughout all our time together, even though I've always known he's wanted to. But he's never imposed, instead refraining until this very moment. In fact, if I hadn't have broached the idea of marriage (a conversation as nerve racking as this one!), he never would have pursued anything further.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
He nods. “More than anything.”
“Well, I don't want to call you anything else.”
“Good,” he says, swaying me in his arms.
Our closeness is magnetic, something I've never quite felt before with him. I mean, being next to him has always been amazing, but something right now is way more powerful.
Maybe because it isn't tension between us; maybe it's because the tension we once held has resolved into sexual desire. It's what we both want, we've both acknowledged, and we're both able to act on for the first time.
The desire, though, is slow and meticulous, with daddy moving in at a measured pace, leaning down and pressing his lips into mine with careful motion. It's like the touch of ambrosia on my lips, sweet and burning, crackling with forbidden energy. The longer our lips twist together, the more the energy begins to circulate through my body, pushing deeper into me, making it's way down my throat until it settles in my stomach.
A hot desire rests in me I've never felt before, one working to take over every aspect of my body. It begs me to give in, damn near demands it! It wants me to bend, to break, to let the man touching me take me. It's like my body is melting so I don't put up any resistance.
And I think daddy feels it in me, because the second my muscles go lax and I fall into daddy's arms, he picks me up with no effort. I wrap my legs around his waist as I hold onto his shoulders, supporting myself as daddy carries me over to the bed. I stare into his eyes, my anxiety giving way to lust, an infatuation with daddy so powerful it crushes all hesitation.