From the Author:
All the characters in this story are fictional and do not intentionally represent any persons living or dead. All characters in this story, though fictional, are at least 18 years old.
The incest/taboo categorization of this story refers to a daddy/daughter relationship. If this is offensive to you, please do not read it, rate it, or comment on it.
Please rate and comment, but only if you have read the whole story. I enjoy reading what people think of my stories.
* * *
"Abby, are you awake?" my daddy softly whispered.
"Yes," I told him.
He sighed and, after a moment's hesitation, asked, "Can you please get me a glass of water?"
"Sure, Daddy," I said as I sat up, lifting my head from his lap where I had been laying, watching television. I had never changed from calling my father 'daddy'; most of my friends called their fathers 'dad'. I simply felt very close to him and never saw the need to change, despite my age.
"Do you want some ice?" I asked as I sat up beside him. Mom always went to bed early because she got up at four every morning to get ready for work. This left us downstairs watching television every weeknight. I always got up earlier in the morning than Daddy, so I could get ready for school which meant I was usually more tired than he was at night, leading me to end up laying my head on his shoulder, chest, and finally lap throughout the evening.
"Yes, please," he said as he caressed his strong hand up and down my back.
I was keenly aware of my bra digging into my back a little too much, which made me enjoy his caressing hand immensely. I had been meaning to buy new bras with a slightly bigger size; this one was older and too small in both size and cup size. I needed another inch or two of size and I figured my Bs had become Cs. Straightening my tee-shirt, I stood up and walked to the kitchen. My shorts had also shifted as I had rested, so I moved them around a bit and, once out of sight in the kitchen, dug my panties out of my butt-crack.
As I got a glass and filled it with ice water, it hit me how tired I was. Being an eighteen-year-old high schooler heading toward graduation, I was very busy during the day. This made winding down with my Daddy at the end of the day very important to me.
Thing is, usually, after I would fall asleep on my Daddy's lap, he would wake me up and send me to bed or, occasionally, ask me for a drink. However, he never whispered, as if he did not actually want to wake me. That was strange.
It had been the third night in a row he had done that, ever since we had returned from our spring break family vacation. We had visited a little seaside town, done some sightseeing, and laid out on the beach. The way my daddy had complemented me on my bikini had made me feel so beautiful. Unlike my bras, my bikini fit me perfectly; it was new. I didn't have a boyfriend any longer, so his attention had really bolstered my spirits.
"Here you go. I'm going to bed," I told him as I handed him the drink.
"Okay, Sweetheart," he told me with a smile.
As I leaned down to kiss him on the lips, as we usually did, I mused at how handsome he was. Black hair, blue eyes, and only slightly overweight, he was better looking than any of my friend's fathers. Even sitting there in just his t-shirt and shorts, or maybe because of the shorts showing off his tanned and toned legs, he looked like the sort of boyfriend I'd have liked to have.
"Good night," I concluded as I headed off.
When I reached the doorway and glanced back, I saw my daddy's head turn toward the television. Had he been watching me walk away?
* * *
"Abby, are you awake?" my daddy softly whispered.
I closed my eyes and didn't say anything. Sunday night, Monday night, and Tuesday night he had whispered that same question to me and I had told him I was awake. We had been playfully picking at each other earlier and so I wanted to see what he would do if, this time, I pretended to be asleep.
"Abby?" he whispered again, as he, this time, ran his hand down my side to my hip and back up to my shoulder. It was not unusual for him to do that; I enjoyed his touch.
I still didn't answer, right arm tucked into the couch and my left arm extended forward, along his thigh and then, bent at the elbow, back to my face. I didn't move, just breathed normally. I was curious as to why he was whispering so softly that I could barely hear him. Still, I planned to say 'boo' really loudly and scare him at any moment, but I wanted to draw him in a bit more to get him really good.
Instead of calling to me again, he traced the outline of my bra along my side with his fingers. Then, tentatively, his fingers moved forward, along the side of my bra and then along the cup until he had moved forward enough to, ever so gently, cup my left breast in his hand through my t-shirt and bra.
I gasped. What the fuck?
His hand shot back to my shoulder and pushed and pulled, rocking me to wake me up as he said, "Abby, wake up."
My eyes were wide with surprise, though he couldn't see me. My daddy had just felt me up and now he was covering, pretending to wake me. I knew that he knew that he had done something wrong; he wouldn't cover for it if he hadn't. I quickly decided that I didn't want to embarrass him, and I needed more time to process what had happened, so I pretended to just be waking up and asked, "What's wrong?"
He hesitated for a moment and then announced, "Time for bed."
As I kissed his lips goodnight, got up, and walked out of the room I began to wonder why Daddy had done that. Was it a mistake? Was he just curious? What would have happened if I hadn't gasped like that? Was it the first time he had done that, or was it the first time I had not been asleep? Had he been fondling me in my sleep previously? If so, for how long?
Those thoughts shocked me and made me curious, but, I realized, I didn't feel offended; I knew I should have been. After all, my daddy had touched me inappropriately and I didn't think it was an accident. Was it a lapse in judgement? Was he just curious about how my tits felt? Had he planned to do other things to me? What else would he have done to me if I hadn't gasped? Why wasn't I offended?
As I brushed my teeth in the bathroom, I realized that there was a chance this had been the first time he had done that to me. Did it matter? Why the hell was I not upset?
As I got into bed, I realized that I didn't feel violated. If he had done something to me previously, I was not aware of it. If this was the first time, I felt… well… actually proud. I mean, if my daddy found me desirable, that was a real ego boost. I had felt so beautiful when he had complemented me on how I looked in my bikini. Had I turned him on? The thought of my handsome daddy getting an erection for me, made my pussy start to get creamy.
Besides, I rationalized as I drifted toward sleep, this was my daddy, not some stranger on the bus. I loved him to bits. If he wanted to cop a feel, I was fine with that.
* * *
"Abby, are you awake?" my daddy softly whispered.
I closed my eyes and didn't say anything. It was Thursday night, the last night of the week we'd be alone like that, and I wanted to know what he was after. I was insanely curious and, so, again, I pretended to be asleep.
"Abby?" he whispered again, as he ran his hand down my side to my hip and back up to my shoulder.
I still didn't answer, making sure that my right arm was tucked into the couch and my left arm was extended along his thigh and then back to my face, giving him full access to my tits.
Daddy traced his fingers along my side, looking for my bra for an inordinate amount of time.
Had he not realized earlier in the night that I wore only my t-shirt, shorts, and panties? The bra had been uncomfortable anyway, but I also was curious if he would have said anything; he hadn't. Now I realized he hadn't even realized I was bra-less. Well, I mused, they were pretty perky, so, if it wasn't obvious, maybe I could go bra-less more often.
"Abby?" he whispered again; a bit louder. When I didn't move, his fingers moved forward, along the side of my breast, separated only by my thin t-shirt. He gently cupped my left tit, just as he had done the previous night only even softer and slower.
I made no movement. I felt like a nature photographer waiting quietly in the bushes to see what the skittish little rabbit would do next.
Daddy massaged my tit with his fingers ever so softly. He lifted it, feeling the weight of it. He pressed his fingers in, feeling how firm it was.
I was proud of my breasts. Two handfuls of firm flesh with soft skin and nipples that were almost as sensitive as my clit. They were bigger than most of my friends, but I wasn't fat, like my friend Brenda.
Finally, unable to resist probing at the hard nipple boring into his palm, he outlined the firm bud with his fingers and gently rotated.
Pleasure filled my head and I, involuntarily, let out a little moan.
Daddy pulled his hand back like he had touched a hot stove. He made sure not to jostle me; his hand simply vanished.
I didn't move for a moment, breathing steadily. When he did nothing else, I rocked back a bit and pulled my arm down, scratched my thigh, and made a little gurgling sound. I tried to make it as natural a movement as possible and tried to convince him I was still asleep. At the same time, my upper body rocked back like that put my tits front and center for him to look at and, hopefully, touch again. The situation was really turning me on.
Unfortunately, the rabbit had hopped away. Daddy was too scared to do anything else.
I tried to think of something else to do in order to egg him on, but nothing came to mind that wouldn't be way too risky. If I let him know that I was awake and was okay with him touching me, he was likely to deny everything and never touch me like that again. I knew this man. As if in my sleep I sighed and made a little whimper, which is exactly how I felt.
Maybe, if I wore something a little more revealing, and a little more accessible, he would try to take it farther. Maybe.
* * *
"What are you wearing?" Mom asked me Sunday night when I plopped down on the couch to watch television with them, as usual. While I still call my father 'daddy' I called my mother 'mom'. I was a 'daddy's girl'.
"It's new. Do you like it?" I was wearing my usual white shorts but, instead of a t-shirt, I wore a purple halter top with no bra. It was backless to the waist but had a string that tied across the middle of my back, so it was held tight.
"It's pretty," she told me.
"This is a little more comfortable than what I usually wear. If I fall asleep again, it won't be as unpleasant," I explained.
She accepted that without further comment.
I smiled at Daddy as he looked me up and down out the corner of his eye. He thought he was being so subtle.
Instead of wearing his usual shorts and t-shirt, he was in soft pajamas.
As the night wore on, Mom finally excused herself, as usual, saying, "I've got to get up way too early, so I'm heading for bed. Don't forget that you have school tomorrow."
"I won't be up too late," I reassured her as she left the room.
When Daddy wasn't looking, I untied the mid-back tie on my top and pulled the waist up to my upper stomach. The top had transformed from a tight garment into a very loose one that exposed my belly.
Within an hour I was laying on Daddy's lap in my usual position. Thirty minutes after that I heard the familiar question; I had been wondering if he had given up on trying to touch me.
"Abby, are you awake?" my daddy softly whispered.
It took all of my strength not to giggle in excitement but to, instead, lay there as if I hadn't heard him.
His left hand had been resting on my hip, but when I didn't answer he slowly caressed up my side. This time, with my back bare, he was touching my skin with some of his fingers. His hands were smooth, not rough like some men's might have been. He worked at home on his computer and did little manual labor, other than exercise.
I didn't react as he caressed my side and then moved in. I could feel him hesitate at the edge of my top, unsure if he should really venture underneath.
He whispered softly, "Abby?"
I could feel his fingers tremble as he moved forward under my top, caressing lightly along the soft skin of my left breast. I knew my nipples were as hard as pebbles and I hoped they wouldn't give me away.
He felt the soft skin, gliding his fingers against me, making my head swim with desire. Finally, he cupped my left tit in his hand.
Feeling my Daddy cupping my bare breast in his palm sent a thrill through me that was only surpassed when he brought his thumb and forefinger together to capture my nipple. Feeling its hardness, he rolled it.
I moaned softly again, immediately upset at myself for doing that, but, this time, thankfully, he didn't stop.
"Oh, Sweetheart," he whispered so softly that he probably didn't even know he had done it.
I did not respond, loathe to take any risk at breaking the spell.
Daddy's right hand caressed my cheek and rested there for a moment. He had done this occasionally in the past as he rubbed my head and so it wasn't out of the ordinary until he dropped his middle finger and lightly touched my lips.
Without thinking, I kissed it. I immediately tried to make it a haphazard kiss so he would think I was doing it subconsciously.
He moved his finger away, but still left his left hand on my tit, rolling my nipple between his fingers.
To my surprise, he pressed his finger against my lips again. This time, I hesitated before kissing it.
He pressed his finger firmly, parting my lips.
I gently sucked and licked at his finger, the pleasure from my nipple seemingly giving me no other choice.
Daddy added a second finger to the mix, letting me suck and lick at them as he continued to stimulate my breast.
I didn't really think about where this was leading, the pleasure from his ministrations and my struggle to make it all seem like I was doing this in my sleep pushed any concerns, or caution, I might have had aside.
Daddy groaned softly, barely audible over the television. He slowly pulled his fingers from my mouth and, then, did the unthinkable. He deftly unbuttoned the fly on his pajamas and allowed his manhood to bounce free.
Holy fuck! I thought as I watched with wide-eyed amazement and shock as my Daddy's cock rose to full hardness, obscenely protruding from the crotch of his pajamas. It was long and thick, blocking most of my view of the television as it pulsed and throbbed directly in front of my face. Shit, it was twice as thick and a couple inches longer that my most endowed boyfriend.
Surprising me again, Daddy pressed a finger to my mouth, venturing inside as if it hadn't left. Then, his other fingers hooked onto his erect phallus and pulled it toward my face. Before I realized what was happening, he pulled the head of his cock between my lips.
It was at this moment, the moment where the situation had gone from letting my daddy feel my boobies to letting him fuck my mouth, where I should have pretended to wake up and put a stop to it. I was absolutely stunned; shocked beyond my wildest imagination that my daddy would have done anything like that to me while he thought I was asleep. I froze as two thoughts raced through my head.
On one hand, if I let him know I was awake and scolded him, our relationship would never be the same. He would never try anything like that again. He would be careful about showing me any affection, always aware I could accuse him of taking advantage of me and get him in trouble. I didn't want that.
On the other hand, if I did nothing, pretended to be asleep and let him fuck my mouth, I would be letting him violate me in a way that nobody should ever be violated. While I wasn't actually asleep, he didn't know that. Surely, he knew he'd wake me up doing something like that; or did he? Did he actually think I'd sleep through that?
I was completely turned on by my Daddy's fingers on my nipples as well as the fact that he found me so attractive that he'd take a risk like that. Still, I should be completely offended at his actions; shouldn't I? Problem was, I wasn't. I actually felt proud of my desirability and impressed at my daddy's bravery.
When I didn't make any move to reject his dick from my mouth, he gently tilted his hips, pressing his cock into my mouth to the neck of his phallus. He pulled his hand from his prick and his finger out of my mouth and pulled his balls up through the fly of his pajamas.
He did taste good, I realized, as I sucked and licked at his cock with the same lazy attention that I had given his fingers. I had never had a thicker or tastier prick between my lips. And gazing at his shaved balls, I realized how long Daddy's dick really was; longer than any I had seen in real life.
I could almost hear the gears turning in Daddy's head behind me as he left his hips flexed and held himself very still. He was probably realizing what he had done and was wondering if he should keep going, I guessed.
Whether I was correct or not, it was in that moment that I decided to encourage him. Why? I simply wanted to.
I took a deep breath and sighed, trying to make it seem as if I was sound asleep, and rolled my head forward a bit. This drove a total of five inches of my Daddy's eight-inch, I estimated, cock into my mouth. I used my tongue against it and suckled at it, making my lips gently writhe and massage him as the head rested at the entrance to my throat. My gag reflex was not very pronounced but trying to take him any deeper would have probably caused me to gag and broken the illusion that I was asleep.
"Holy shit," Daddy whispered very softly to himself.
I tried not to smile at that, knowing he would detect any change to my lips like that. I thrilled at the thought that Daddy liked my mouth so much. I had gotten quite a bit of practice with my last couple of boyfriends. Despite being on the pill, I had rejected more than a few offers of sex in favor of giving them oral pleasure; not all offers of sex, but most.
After a moment, he relaxed his hips and then gently flexed them again, pulling a couple inches from between my lips and then driving them back in.
Any shock or outrage at what was happening evaporated as I became lost in the moment, feeling my Daddy fuck my mouth. My pussy was completely flowered open within my shorts, depositing copious amounts of moisture into my thin panties.
"Abby, are you awake?" Daddy softly whispered as he stopped stroking into my mouth.
Again, I could have said something, but I didn't.
Daddy resumed thrusting up into my mouth. My head resting on his stomach, he gently held my head in place with his right hand as he fucked my face. His left hand produced a constant stream of pleasure from caressing my left breast as he thrust his cock faster and faster up into my mouth.
I sucked and slurped along his pistoning prick while trying to maintain the illusion that I was asleep.
Daddy must have assumed that I was in a deep sleep because, surely, if I woke in the middle of this I'd react pretty violently. So, since I didn't do that, I must have been able to sleep through the face fucking he was giving me.
For several minutes I sucked at his cock, thrilling at the meaty and salty taste of his thick prick as it glided in and out of my mouth.
Daddy groaned with rising passion as his cock expanded between my lips.
I knew what that meant. I considered, one last time, whether to let him know I was awake. I could do that without getting angry or stopping him. I couldn't see a good way to do that which wouldn't cause more trouble than it solved. In my indecision, time ran out.
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