I woke up with a start the next morning. The kind of wake-up you have for a very important event, and you’re so nervous about it, you wake up before your alarm has a chance to squawk. In my case, I woke forty-five minutes before my alarm. My heart drummed on my chest, my hands were sweaty, and already there was an ache in my belly. The guilt from the night before and the worry from the morning to come clashed inside me, and I wanted to die.
Sleep illuded me through most of the night as I tossed and turned. I lay on the other side of my bed that wasn’t damp from last night’s activities. After hours of planning and overthinking possible outcomes of today, I dozed off on accident for what felt like minutes. Now awake, I felt my panic compounding and forming a pile in my gut that reached the back of my throat. Despite that buried feeling, a part of me grew curious about the mess beside me.
The morning light pushed between my shades to cut lines over my mattress. Tossing off my covers, I could see the large oval of wetness where I squirted. My hand touched the fabric, and I felt transported back to the night before. My father’s hot breath on the back of my neck, his hands on my body, the rough grunts he made before he came… My palm rubbed the sheet gently as if I were touching myself.
There were a spot or two that were rough where droplets of his semen had fallen and crusted over. Remembering, I slipped a hand into my underwear and rubbed over my butt. Sure enough, I felt the sticky spots where slings of my daddy’s semen had stuck to my skin and dried.
I gasped at the feel of it and the remembrance of the moment. Working my hand lower on my rear, I bit the corner of my lip when I felt my vagina and the buildup of creamy juices already formed in my slit. I slid two fingers into my sex from behind and gasped. With my cheek resting on my mattress beside my pool of juices and my butt protruding in the air, I used my entire arm to thrust my two fingers in and out of my tight hole.
“Ughh… yes…” I groaned as I imagined being in this position for Daddy the next time he had his way with me. “Oh… Oh, daddy…”
My door was closed, and since my brothers no longer lived at our parent’s house, I had the entire upper floor of the house to myself, which meant I couldn’t scream, but I definitely didn’t have to police my volume that much. My fingers plowed my 18-year-old hole harder and harder as I fantasized about my daddy being rough with his girl. Imagined how full his long, thick cock would make me feel… make his dirty girl feel…
“Mmmm! Fuck me harder, Daddy,” I whimpered into my bed and felt my finger thump inside me. My stagnated breathing left moments of silence where the only sound in my bedroom was the squishy sound my fingers made pumping in and out of my hole.
Panting and whimpering, I squinted under my eyelids as the fantasy of pleasure grew and grew, but something shiny caught my eyes. From the angle where I lay, the morning light reflected off a small quarter-sized pool of liquid just inches from my face. It was in my shadow before, so I must have missed it, but it was a large milky puddle of my daddy’s sperm. It must have been where the majority of his seed had fallen hours before when he came.
Without thought or hesitation, my cheek slid over to the wet spot, and I wrapped my lips around it. The viscous salty substance coated my tongue, and I hummed a moan that grew in volume and frequency the closer I came to orgasm. I remember the grunting sound Daddy made as I jerked his meat and could only dream about looking up into his brown eyes I watched him lose control and shoot his load of semen into my mouth, down my throat, and into my belly.
“Oh, God… yes!” I moaned a little too loud as I swallowed Daddy’s cum. Feeling it near, my fingers exited my pussy and made messy circles on my clitoris as I lost control of my limbs.
My butt jiggled in the air as the tremor of the orgasm descended through my body. I began to scream and turned my face into the bed to muffle my cries. My toes curled, and a heavy drizzle of juices leaked from my pussy, down my hand, wrist, and arm.
“Ohmygoddaddy! I'mcummingmmm!” my muted scream into my mattress vibrated the bed and ended with a powerful cliff as finally my chest unclenched, and I gasped for air as I fell to my side.
For several moments, I blinked with black and blue blotches in my eyes, either from the powerful orgasm or the oxygen deprivation. It was when they finally went away, and my breathing returned to normal that I heard the respectful tap-tap-tap on my door.
“Anna? Are you awake?” my father called through the door, but something about his tone made me think this wasn’t the first time he called for me.
Oh, God! I thought, straightening in a sprint in my bed. How long has he been standing there? What has he heard? What am I going to say to him!?
In a rush of movement, I exploded from my bed. Tossing my covers onto my sloppy mattress, I spread it out enough to cover the mess I was going to go check my appearance in the mirror, but my alarm started blaring, which freaked me out even more! I smacked the snooze, saw my hoody lying on the floor, and snatched that up quickly.
“Honey?” my father repeated.
“J-Just a second,” I stuttered as I zipped the dark-colored hoodie up over my hard nipples. It was baggy enough that it dangled just below my wet panties, hiding them. In a panic, I dove over to the door and opened it for him. “Hey—hi,” I said, breathlessly.
My father was a handsome man. He started as a mechanic years ago but was more of a businessman now. He grew his auto shop business into nineteen different shops across the entire state, so he spent most of his day behind a desk, but still the hard body and calloused hands of a blue-collar worker. It wasn’t uncommon for him to come home from work, sweaty, greasy, and needing a shower because one of his stores was down a mechanic, and rather than making customers wait, he got underneath cars to help.
He was a confident man who knew how the world worked and seemed to always have an answer for any question I had. But seeing him now was a different look than I had ever seen before, and it scared me. He hung his head, and his height seemed half of what it normally was.
“May I come in?” he asked.
“Um, yes, sure, of course,” I said, remembering, through the panic, that the awkward conversation was fast approaching.
He stepped inside and stole a final look downstairs, where my mother still slept, before closing my door. My room felt much smaller with the two of us inside and the door closed. Much messier too. I kicked a pile of dirty clothes deeper into a corner.
Daddy let out a deep sigh and rubbed a hand over his face, “Sit down, honey,” he said.
I sat on the edge of my bed and already wanted to cry. Not from anything that happened last night but from the way my father was acting. He seemed disappointed and I hate disappointing him.
Daddy grabbed my computer chair and wheeled it over. I blushed a little at the three pink bras hung on the back of it. He ignored them and sat facing me.
“Listen, honey… I…” he started and stopped, running his hands over his face and trimmed beard. The dark circles under his eyes made it seem like he hadn’t slept yet. “Jesus,” he whispered to himself. “I remember bits and pieces of what happened last night… I drank far too much and… I’m so sorry. I thought this was still your mother’s bed and mine.”
Seeing my typically unemotional father so distraught and teetering on the edge between rage and tears scared me more than a little. This wasn’t a thing in my family. Men typically didn’t show emotion unless they were fighting someone, but that was another story.
“Oh, we don’t have to talk about it, um, it’s—it’s okay,” I said, squirming uncomfortably. My instinct was to lie and pretend that I slept through the entire thing, but then I remembered I masturbated to Daddy last night, too.
Stupid. How could I be so stupid? Daddy was confused! He had an excuse to touch his daughter; what is your excuse, you stupid slut!?
“No, no,” he said, raising his hands and rolling up his sleeves, “I want to get this out there.”
This was more the father I knew. The man who did the hard thing even when he didn’t want to. Who struggled and pushed through to finish what he started. It’s what I loved about him.
“I just wanted to let you know that I care for you and your mother very much. I don’t want anything to be confused between us, and if you want to talk to me about anything or anything that happened, I’m here for you, okay?” he said. He stared at me for a long moment. His heavy gaze made me want to burst. I could still taste his semen on my tongue, and my pussy still pulsed from my last orgasm.
I wanted to tell him it was okay, that he could use me—use my body any time he needed comfort. I wanted to tell him how much I loved last night and how much he meant to me and not to abandon me after Mom goes… but all I said instead was, “Okay, thanks,” my words coming out small and meek.
He nodded and stood but didn’t look any happier with himself. He moved for the door and turned back, saying, “And if you want to talk to anyone about anything, I can get you a therapist or someone to talk to. It’s no big deal.”
I smiled sheepishly, and my heart swelled at how worried he was for me, even though it was for something I definitely didn’t need any concern for. I almost cried at the amount of thought he had for me but stopped myself as I feared he would misinterpret it.
“I’m fine, Daddy, really.” I giggled and stood, hugging him. His strong arms wrapped around me, and my lungs took in his familiar scent, which now worked like an aphrodisiac.
When he pulled away from the hug, I saw him stare behind me for a second longer than normal, look down at me, smile, and nod.
“Alright, hun, I’m going to get your mother up and started before the nurse arrives,” he said before leaving my room.
I closed my door, feeling all the energy leave my body as I collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor. The relief in my chest felt like a gaping wound that could finally heal. While nothing was said explicitly, it sounded as though last night would remain a secret between him and me (win number one), and he wasn’t mad or disgusted by me (win number two!). I stayed on the floor, appreciating my moment of rest until my snooze went off on my alarm once more. I stood and felt the slosh of my soaked panties smear on my inner thighs. I needed to take a shower, but at the same time, I didn’t want to wash away the dried cum on my ass. I was thinking about this as I turned off my alarm but then noticed the wet mark on my bed. The visible wet mark on my bed.
It was a perfect wet outline of my butt on the edge of my mattress right where I was sitting. My heart sank in my chest, opening every worried wound that I thought I had just closed.
No, no, no! My panties and butt were so wet they stained my mattress! That’s what Daddy was staring at when he hugged me!
He knew I was just in here masturbating. He knew I just came in here!
