Incest/TabooWhat a Dad Wants Ch. 05
It was Halloween, one of my favorite holidays before I had kids, but especially after. Stella usually had to work at some point on those days, but I would go big getting Gabby and Smith ready and taking them trick-or-treating. Stella participated when she could.
Once the kids felt they were too old or too cool to go door to door, they still enjoyed the holiday by helping me decorate, hand out candy, or being my partners in crime for my epic annual Stella scare which was when I took years off my wife's life by scaring the shit out of her in a creative way, thus her vowing to take my life entirely.
Smith and I were assigned to candy distribution, Stella was working until 11pm, and Gabby was getting ready to go to a party with Mitch and her friends. Teenage screaming came from the TV as I closed the door on the most recent group of trick-or-treaters and glanced up to see Gabby, about to descend the staircase.
She was wearing a short as hell, acid washed, denim skirt that left way too much smooth leg exposed down to a pair of black Chuck Taylors. That was shocking enough, but taking in her costume above the waist had me gritting my teeth and balling my free hand into a fist.
Her hair was obnoxiously teased and piled high on her head, leaving the column of her neck exposed down to the thin seam of a skin-tight, very see through, fishnet shirt. Beneath that, her neon pink bra was not only visible, but looked to be struggling to hold her tits. It was either old or borrowed from a less endowed friend.
I quickly shot a look to Smith to make sure she had escaped his notice. I passed him the candy bowl mumbling, "Hold down the fort, yeah?"
And then I was bounding up the staircase. When I met her, three steps from the top, I grabbed her arm and jerked her along behind me, down the hall, to her room. We'd barely made it over the threshold when I whipped her passed me and slammed the door, closing us in.
"No fucking way," I growled.
When she finally came to a stop and saw my face, she paled. "What?"
"You are not walking out of here in that." My own ears heard disgust in my voice, which wasn't what I was going for, but her appearance triggered something in me that I was fighting to control. Looking back, the disgust was probably with myself.
"It's my costume. We're all going as…"
"I don't give a fuck, find something else."
Before my eyes, she morphed into a petulant teenager. Hands on her hips, she defiantly declared, "Mom said it's cute."
"Mom isn't sleeping in that bed with you."
"What does that mean?"
I sighed and swiped a palm down my face in an effort to control my temper and the intensity of our argument. I wanted to scream, but instead calmly, if not a little menacingly, said, "If you want to dress like that, it's not going to be when you're with people I don't know, in a place I don't know."
Her brown eyes glared at me. "Why? Do I look like I'm asking for it? I have to change because men can't control themselves?"
She didn't say many snide things to me, but I noticed the frequency of shots aimed my way had increased since we started fooling around.
"Fuck no." I was surprised she didn't get it yet. I began to slowly stalk towards her. She took a step back each time I closed the distance between us. "First off, do not confuse this."
Her body jerked when the wall halted her retreat.
"You should be able to walk into a place buck ass naked and not have a single person touch you in a way you don't like. In fact, I'd like to take you somewhere in something a fuck of a lot more revealing than that and you and I can sit and watch all the men in the room trying to control themselves."
I got nose to nose with her and leaned down a bit to her level. My arms caged her in against the wall and she nervously looked back and forth between them. Something about capturing her, cornering her, made my cock start to harden.
"I don't understand then."
"For the last time, Gabrielle. What's between those legs is mine and you seem determined to show it off tonight. You can dress like this when you're hanging on MY arm and I'm there to watch everyone fantasize about what you fucking taste like, knowing the whole time that I'm the only one who puts my mouth on you whenever I want."
At the mention of it, her eyes cut down to my mouth and she swallowed hard. Pink flooded her cheeks. Her tits rose and fell rapidly with her breaths and, swear to Christ, I could feel the lust pulsing around her like an invisible aura.
The truth was that she looked sexy as hell. She looked like a woman, not a fresh new adult, and she looked like she knew exactly how to take care of a man's cock until he was begging for mercy. The outfit was ridiculous, a throw-back to best forgotten 80's fashion, but Gabby wore it like a second skin in which she was way too comfortable. I didn't want to be one of those men who couldn't control themselves, but I was struggling. She'd submitted to a sexual relationship with me, but I hadn't taken her with my cock. The problem was I wanted to.
I looked down at her shirt and wondered what my cum would look like seeping through the woven fishnet. My eyes traveled further to her hips, then her legs. I needed to see what was under that denim.
When I left my daydreams behind, Gabby was still watching my mouth closely. "Stop looking at me like that, Gabrielle."
"Like what?" she whispered.
"Like you want me to tear these clothes off of you and send you to the party with a used pussy."
She looked down before squeezing her eyes shut, trying to do what I asked, but she blushed even more. Her breathing didn't slow. Her tits didn't stop reaching out to me. Her hands at her sides flattened against the wall behind her as if she needed support.
I leaned in to whisper in her ear. "It seems like that might be exactly what you want."
She held herself stock still and continued to pant, but I was close enough by then to feel those tits brushing my shirt.
Heat spread through me in a quick wave, starting at the base of my cock. "I'm sure I'm wrong, though. You can't really want Daddy to put his cock inside you right now. Can you imagine how empty your little cunt would feel all night if it were stretched out from taking all of me? That would be awful, wouldn't it, baby?"
Her eyes came back to mine with a desperation in them. They probably matched my own. I was doing everything I could to look like the epitome of control, but inside my body was buzzing and my blood felt boiling hot.
"Say it. Say, I don't want you to fuck me yet, Daddy."
Her head shook to one side and then the other slowly, but that was her only response.
I was taunting myself more than I was taunting her. I truly needed her to say it to remind me I was waiting to fuck her for a reason. The feel of those tits, practically on display for me, her hot breath, and the silence she was answering with was going to push me over the edge.
"Gabrielle. If you don't say it, that shit is coming off, I'm throwing you down on that bed, and you're coming all over my cock."
She glanced at the bed before looking to the ceiling and letting a frustrated rumble escape between her clenched teeth. Since day one, I had been telling Gabby exactly what I wanted and where we were headed, but I'd just turned the tables. I knew what she wanted. She knew what she wanted. The problem was making her admit it out loud.
"Gabby?" I clenched my own fists and pressed my knuckles hard into the wall.
She took her time lowering her head and confronting my thunderous look. She still didn't say anything and just rolled her lips between her teeth, making them wetter and plumper once freed. I gave up my position. Putting a hand on the back of her head, I jerked her toward me and against those lips I growled, "Time's up."
I thrust my tongue into her mouth and like a strike to a flint, we ignited. I pulled the rest of her body into me and continued to manipulate the movements of her head so I could explore as much of her mouth as possible. Without disconnecting, I turned us and shuffled her backwards toward the bed.
The doorbell continued to chime at regular intervals, reminding me that we didn't have much time or privacy. I didn't particularly care about either, but no way could I have dragged the moment out even if I wanted to. My cock was ready and I was done testing my own patience and willpower by not claiming her in the most significant way.
I pulled the hem of her skirt to her waist and fondled her hips and ass until I found the delicate string of her thong. Gabby gasped in my mouth as the garment snapped apart with the first strong tug and silently hit the floor. I fisted two handfuls of her fishnet shirt and ripped it down the center, revealing nothing I hadn't already seen. When the collar gave way, I shoved it off her shoulders and down her arms until it was cascading over her hips. The barely there material brushed the front of my legs on the way down and settled over my feet.
Gabby was up and in my arms, lifted just long enough to throw her to the center of the bed. She landed and bounced once before steadying herself with her elbows and feet against the mattress. Her legs were splayed apart and her hot cunt was staring right at me.
Frantically, I opened my jeans and shoved them to my hips along with my boxers. Scrambling up on the bed, I gathered spit from my mouth, using it to coat the end of my cock, and then I was there, legs between her thighs, holding myself up with one arm, and aiming directly at her pussy.
I looked up at her face, but she was looking across the landscape of her body to where my angry cock was sliding between her lips and seeking her opening. I thrust deep inside knocking the breath out of both of us. She was wet against me, but so fucking tight, I didn't think I would be able to move in and out.
"Jesus," I groaned when she choked my cock further using the muscles surrounding it.
I collapsed on top of her, hooking her knee with one arm and caging her head with the other. I felt hands slide around me low on my back where she could find bare skin under my t-shirt. Then her hips shifted, grinding against me, and suddenly I was gone and the fire took over.
I pulled nearly all the way out, dragging a moan from her, then slammed back in with an answering grunt. Then again. And again. I felt her nails just above my ass, not scratching, but digging, trying to find purchase amidst my savagery. Her sneakers connected with the backs of my legs, but they were knocked away nearly every time I drove into her cunt.
I took possession of her with a roughness typically reserved for someone with much more experience than my recently deflowered daughter. My temple pressed against Gabby's ear and I focused on my hand where it balled her comforter up in it's fist from the pleasure. Her head slid alongside mine and nudged up against my forearm as her body absorbed the violent impacts of my hips.
Her moans had become breathier and her pussy was not only accepting, which it had been from the moment I took her, but it stretched, heated, and welcomed me over and over with rushes of fresh fluid. As my hips sped up, most of my cock stayed trapped in that wet heat.
"You were made for my fucking cock," I bit out, continuing to rock against her. I didn't remind her, that as her father, I'd had a hand in that, but her pussy clenched around me as if she understood the implication. "Fuck yes, milk me with that sweet pussy."
I tried to take her mouth while continuing to move like a piston inside her. She didn't kiss me back, too out of breath and at my mercy. I don't know how much time passed other than to say, it wasn't much, when her body tightened, inside and out, but didn't ease again like it had been during my time inside her.
I taunted her. "About to come all over Daddy's cock just like I said you would?"
Her head answered with jerky nods separate from the convulsive dance of our bodies.
I powered into her harder and faster, and clenched my jaws and squeezed my eyes closed from the pleasure of it. My hand traveled from the bend of her knee, down the smooth skin of her thigh, and around to grip her ass hard and pull her hips toward me. It was like I wanted to fit my whole self inside her and thought if I could just fuck her hard enough, I'd get there.
The cries coming from her throat matched my rhythm and began to get louder than I was comfortable with. I covered her mouth with mine to absorb each punch of sound. Sensation overwhelmed me as her pussy closed in and it became difficult to power through. I didn't think it would end before my dick was a pancake, but then there was a sudden deluge of warmth and wet and a brief return to all soft before the tightest, fleeting, pulsing squeezes drummed around me. I felt the thuds of my own heart in my chest and up into my skull, keeping time with the beat of her orgasm.
On the outside, she threw her head back, losing my mouth, and grabbed hold of a sucked in breath, coloring her face and neck red. Lines of muscle stood out on the sides of her throat and the comforting wrap of her arms became a desperate clutch to hold on. She shook. She trembled. She buried her face in my neck.
The movements of her hips against mine became intentional once more. Feeling her connect to me again, and back to the moment, made my own body crash and tumble toward release. I resumed the frantic short thrusts I needed to get me there and a tightening band cinched across my lower back.
I was in the habit of asking Stella where she wanted my cum. I got as far as, "Where do…" before I realized I was asking Gabby. My daughter. Other realizations quickly followed.
It was my first time insider her, her first time with me, and she was unprotected. Paying too much attention to my head and not enough to my body, my cock lurched and shot a round of cum into the cavern of her pussy.
I scrambled away, slipping out of her just as a second shot coated her lips and slid down to the bed beneath her. I grabbed my cock and jerked it angrily over her, painting the skin between her skirt and her mound with all I had left. With a final squeeze to my already softening prick, I looked up towards Gabby's face. She was focused on her cum covered belly.
I bit out an angry, "Fuck!" as I sat on my ass next to her and put my head in my hands. I was breathing heavily. There was a weight in my chest that hadn't been there before. I slammed one of my fists against the mattress, enraged at myself.
There was only silence until the doorbell went again, but it was followed by my son's voice.
"Gabby! Mitch is here!"
My chest tightened further.
Gabby jumped up from the bed and without righting herself, ran toward the door.
"Gabby!" I called, but she didn't stop. My fist pounded the bed again.
I'm sure the slam of the hall bathroom's door was heard throughout the house, but when it reached me, it felt like my sternum finally cracked, right down the center, under the new pressure there. There was a lot I would need to heal, but my own discomfort was my lowest priority.
In the corner of my side of the walk-in closet, my old t-shirts lay folded and arranged on shelves below the few sweaters I owned. I riffled through everything until I found what I was looking for. I heard water running and the toilet flush on the other side of the wall, as I entered the master bath, fishing out the spare scissors we kept in the vanity.
With care, I cut off the bottom half of my Journey t-shirt and rolled the edges until they did so of their own accord. Then I attacked the collar, removing it entirely for a wider neck line and adding a makeshift V shaped arrow down to the chest. Lastly, I cut the arms off my black cable knit sweater.
Satisfied, I returned to her room. She was still in the bathroom, hiding or just fixing the damage I'd done to her, so I laid the shirt and homemade legwarmers out on her bed for her to see when she got back. I gathered the shreds of her top and underwear and tossed them deep inside my bedroom on the way down the stairs.
Mitch and Smith were hanging out in the living room talking in a way that seemed like they were very comfortable with each other. To my knowledge, Mitch hadn't been back in my home since the night I caught him eating out my daughter.
As I approached, he jumped up and put a hand out. "Mr. V."
Everyone called Stell and I, Mrs. or Mr. V so it wasn't surprising that Mitch did as well. Stella may have even directed him to do so when she'd met him.
"Dan is fine, Mitch. Gabby will be down in a bit."
I had a whole list of things Stella wanted me to reiterate with our daughter's older boyfriend, but when the doorbell chimed, I felt saved. Smith jumped up, but I took the bowl of candy from him and let him know I'd take care of it.
Four groups of trick-or-treaters later, I felt, more than heard, Gabby coming down the stairs behind me. I had a hand full of candy, facing a vampire, when I registered her greeting to Mitch and some laughing between the three of them. I kept the door open, even after the porch was empty, anticipating Mitch and Gabby's departure.
"See you later, Dan." Mitch gave me a chin lift and motioned for Gabby to precede him over the threshold.
"Gabby." She stopped and I got a good look at her for the first time since I'd fucked her. There was something unrecognizable in her eyes. It almost made me sway backwards with surprise and, well fear, if I'm being honest. I knew her better than anyone and thought I'd seen everything from her. I had to clear my throat before I could remind her, "Eleven o'clock." Her curfew.
She nodded, but left without saying anything.
As I closed the door behind them, it dawned on me that she hadn't uttered a word since our standoff in her room. Nothing when I entered her, nothing when she came around me, nothing when I lost part of my load inside, and nothing before she ran away. She hadn't even called me Daddy that day and we'd gone further than we ever had.
I was in my room when I heard Gabby get home at quarter to eleven. Smith and I had passed out candy while watching a slasher movie, as one was wont to do on Halloween. When his girlfriend, Liz called, he excused himself to his room and I took a trip to the 24 hour pharmacy.
I waited patiently, but the quiet snick of Gabby's door closing told me she didn't intend to check in with me. Stella was scheduled until 11:00 and would be home shortly thereafter, so I didn't, or rather couldn't, delay. Grabbing the small paper bag from my dresser, I walked down the hall like I was walking to the gallows. I knocked lightly on Gabby's door and waited for her permission to enter.
She was sitting on the edge of her bed removing her Chucks. "Hey," I said moving toward her. Lame, yes, but what the fuck do you say?
"Hey." She didn't stop what she was doing. She didn't look up.
"Did you have a good time?"
Gabby inhaled a sharp breath. "Yeah, it was fine."
"Listen." I went to the bed and sat next to her. "About earlier."
Shoes gone, she hopped up and crossed the room to her closet. Pulling open the door and yanking on the chain light she said, "Yeah, I get it, and that's fine too."
"You get what?"
Instead of answering me, she whipped off my Journey shirt. My eyes followed it all the way to the plush carpet where she discarded it and my temper flared.
"I can see you're full of bravado and determined to make me think you don't give a fuck about me or anything else that happened today, but I'm not buying your bullshit. I'd like to talk about it."
She turned around and crossed her arms in front of her chest, unashamed that she wore nothing but a hot pink bra and a ridiculously ugly miniskirt. "We don't have to talk, I said, I get it."
I stood up. "And I said, you get what?" For the second time that day I was raising my voice at her. I hadn't yelled at Gabby in years and if that was the cost of fucking her, I wasn't sure I wanted to do it.
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