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Dad jolts when I hook my fingers in his belt buckle, thankful it comes undone on my first attempt to unbuckle it.
“Jesus, Tina. What…what are you doing?” His bright hazel eyes are wide and round like saucers, and he hooks his hands under my arms to pull me up to stand.
I wiggle out of his hold and back down to my knees. When I pop open the button on his Wranglers and pull the zipper down, he looks at me with utter disbelief. He only snaps out of his stupor when I shimmy the waistband of his jeans down to reveal his black boxers.
“Fuck, sweetheart. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you have to stop.” He tries to pull his waistband back up, but I shake my head and concentrate. I think his shock is getting to him because I win the battle and am able to pull his jeans all the way down to his knees. “Tina, sweetheart, get up. Get—” He sucks in a jagged breath when I stretch the waistband of his boxers down enough to pull his heavy dick out, and he fists his hands at his sides.
I’ve fooled around with my ex-boyfriends before, mostly just hand stuff, so I know what a dick looks like. But neither of them had dicks the size of his, even with him being soft.
Seriously, what was Mom thinking leaving him? His dick is huge, and it’s not even hard yet!
It’s slightly darker than the rest of his tanned skin, and a delicious thrill thrums in my veins as I watch the fat tip darken as blood rushes to fill his cock before my eyes. Swelling by the second, his veins become more pronounced, and I have the urge to trace them with my tongue.
He’s starting to get excited—or at least his dick is—and I think I am, too, as my lower belly flutters. I’ve never done mouth stuff, so I’m more than a little intimidated just thinking about giving my first blow job—to my dad of all people—but I can’t hesitate, knowing that eventually his shock will wear off and he’ll force me to stop.
I tip my head back and look him square in his wide, disbelieving eyes. “I love you, Daddy. I hope you still love me too.” I brace my hands on his tree-trunk-sized thighs and lean in, dropping my gaze to zero in on his dick as it twitches when I give it a tentative lick over the tip. Dad’s breath shudders when I blow on his hardening dick, then open my mouth to suck the mushroom head into my mouth and circle it with my tongue like I would a lollipop. Of course, it tastes nothing like a lollipop, but I wouldn’t say it necessarily tastes bad like Brittany says it does when she blows her boyfriend.
“Oh, fuck, sweetheart. Fuck, fuck!” He moans when I suck another inch into my mouth, just enough for the tip to hit the back of my tongue before my gag reflex kicks in. As I start to draw my head back, Dad pleads, “You gotta stop this. You have to—”
I cut off his protests by bobbing my head to take even more of his length. His cock is so thick that I can’t get much in before I do end up gagging this time.
“Fuck!” Dad shouts, and my eyes shoot up when I hear the back of his head bang against the wall. He has his hands in his hair, gripping and pulling at the short, dark strands.
Brittany says guys love it when girls gag on their cocks, but I must not be doing it right if he’s literally ripping his hair out. I flatten my tongue to hopefully make more room in my mouth and attempt to take even more of his length. The fact that his dick is swollen and harder than before is a good sign, but then I gag violently, and he curses, banging his head against the wall twice this time.
I pull back and tears well up in my eyes. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I’ve never done this before. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
His eyes instantly snap open and meet mine. “Christ, sweetheart, you’re not doing anything wrong.” He cups my face with both hands, and I cover them with my own, loving how it feels to have him hold me like this, like I’m still precious to him.
“But you keep cursing and hurting yourself, and…and…I’m messing this all up. I just want to help make you feel better.”
He wipes my tears away with his thumbs and sinks to his knees in front of me so we’re almost at eye level. I love that he leaves his hands on my cheeks, and I tip my head to the side to nuzzle his palm.
“Sweetheart, you don’t need to give me a blow job to make me feel better. Christ, you shouldn’t be giving me a blow job for any reason whatsoever. I mean, you’re my daughter…It’s fucked up that we’re even having this discussion.”
“Really? You still think of me as your daughter?” I ask with rising hope and scoot closer to him on my knees.
“Yes, of course. You’ll always be my daughter, and I’ll always love you, no matter what.”
What started off as tears of distress quickly turn to tears of joy, the same sense I felt before I got down on my knees in front of him. He tips my head back and kisses first one cheek, catching the tear that falls there, and then the other. Back and forth and back and forth until my tears dry up and I’m giggling at the feel of him swiping his tongue across my face.
I don’t know why I do it now that I know he still loves me—and always will—but I grip his huge cock that’s still hanging out of his boxers, rock hard and pointing straight up between us. Now this I know how to do properly, gathering the pre-cum that beads at the tip and coating my palm with it before sliding my hand back down, forming a fist around his thick shaft. I increase the pressure until I know I’ve got it just right when he moans and rocks his hips, fucking my fist with short, rhythmic thrusts.
“Fuck, Tina, sweetheart. Don’t…don’t…” He groans and snaps his hips forward with more force as he slides his hands behind me, one circling the back of my neck and winding my ponytail around his other.
My mouth drops open when he forces me to tip my head all the way back with his grip on my ponytail. His eyes are clenched shut like he’s in pain, but his mouth hovers an inch over mine. I lick my lips to wet them, then lightly lick his bottom lip like I did his cock.
His eyes flare open, and all I see is my own budding flames of desire reflected back at me in his blown pupils. His breathing grows labored as he draws back and pumps his hips at a faster pace. When he starts to fall out of rhythm, I take over, working my fist up and down his beefy shaft from root to tip.
“Don’t,” he says one more time.
“Don’t what, Daddy? Don’t kiss you? Don’t touch your dick?” I emphasize that last question by adding my other hand, now gripping him with both and working them together. His dick is so large that even with my hands stacked one on top of the other, they still don’t fully encompass his length.
He growls and snaps his hips forward with so much force that I lose my balance and fall onto my back, thankful that I’m wearing jean shorts instead of my skin-tight skinny jeans, or else It would be a lot more difficult to maneuver my legs out from underneath me. But I never let go of my grip on his cock, and he follows me down to the floor. I hike my knees up and drop them to the sides, and his hips fill the space between my spread thighs.
“Oh fuck, fuck, Tina! We shouldn’t be doing this,” he protests even as he braces himself on his elbows on either side of my shoulders. He presses his face into the crook of my neck as he works his hips back and forth, fucking my hands as if he were fucking me.
I pant, loving the weight of him on top of me, loving the slippery feel of the pre-cum that continues to leak from his cock. I’m on fucking fire with how turned on I am now, imagining him sliding his hard cock into my pussy instead of my fists. This kind of needy desire is something I’ve never felt before with either of my ex-boyfriends. I felt pressured to do the things we did so they wouldn’t break up with me for being a prude, but I was never excited about it.
