Having Consensual Fuck With My Dad. There was nothing else I could do. There were two towels stuck in the crack at my door. My music was as loud as it was reasonable. I stared at the screen of my computer. The time was 23:53, and I was not even close to finishing the first page. It was the week of the finals. I was late for a huge amount of research in French, and my father had been screaming on the phone for hours. Maybe I thought for the thousands time that night that living in dormitories would not be so horrible.
But nothing could be done at the moment. And unless he started shouting at my mother about classic French cinema instead of money, home, my sister and me. My dad’s weekly phone calls did not help me. At all. I grabbed a highlighter and did my best to pull it off as I scanned my notes again. Looking for anything that could carry me through an extra eight and a half pages of this bullshit.
After having plunged into obscure facts about Jean Renoir for at least half an hour, I turn down my stereo. Silence. Finally. I got up, stretched, and cautiously hoped to finally do something. Time for a cigarette, and then to business. I grabbed my pack of camels and went down.
“Those aren’t good for you, you know”. My father was sitting at the kitchen table, a bottle of beer almost full in his hand.
“Hey, dad,” I say, glad to see he was off the phone. “Is everything fine?”
Dad sighed and took a sip of his beer. “Not really. Go get your smoke, have you done your papers yet?”
“I have almost started!” I told him with a smile. “Come sit outside with me, it’s good tonight.”
“Maybe in a minute,” he said. “I have to charge my phone, or maybe throw it away.”
It was a good night. If a deadline of nine hours did not appear to me, I would open a beer myself. But no, just a cigarette, then back to work. I lit my cigarette and took a deep that cleans the soul, while cursing me to dither this damn paper. What a perfect night to sit under the stars.
I heard the door open and close. My dad sat in the garden chair next to mine, with two beers in his hand instead of one.
“Oh, no, dad, I can not. I wish, but I really have to start cracking for this thing. “I felt horrible. My dad did not drink much, so I knew he really needed it.
“Well just hold it, Lauren. at least give me the illusion that I do not drink alone”. He smiled and handed me the open bottle.
He sighed. “She’s leaving, I mean, leaving, for good.”
“Oh, really, where to go?” It was a big deal and it was certainly the first time I heard about it.
“Vegas, that’s her crazy idea of a new life, Vegas.” He was doing his best to hide it, but I could hear his voice cracking.
“Is she taking Cath?” Even though my father and I were inseparable, my mother and younger sister were worse. I knew it was a stupid question before I asked.
“Of course, you know your sister, damn it, you both know them.” He paused. “She wants you to come in. After the end of the semester.”
“She’s crazy,” I say. “I haven’t lived with her for two years. What makes her think that I would like to live with her in Vegas?” Giving in her siren song, I took a sip of beer.
“I do not know. I told her you wouldn’t, and she said that you were an adult and that you would make the right decision. I know you can not afford to live alone, darling, but – “
“Oh, hush.” I stopped him. “I’m not going anywhere, not yet. Anyway, I love my school, I end up getting something with my degree and I love living with you.”
Dad turned to me, his head leaning against the garden chair. “You do?”
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“Of course, yes, and maybe now I’ll have some peace and quiet from time to time!” I smiled at him, trying not to notice the tears in his eyes. With the light shining in the kitchen, even in our dark garden, I could see her face. His big pile of auburn curls, his bright hazel eyes and more freckles than I could count. Our eyes were almost the same and I also inherited her mahogany hair, but without the curls. I kept mine short, as he did.
He put his hand on mine and smiled at me. “Go finish your paper, girl, do not stay up all night.”
“Yeah, I really should, if you want to hanging, I’ll be in my room. I can not promise I’ll be in very good company, though.”
“You’re nice, but I think I’ll take a shower and go to bed. The port is supposed to crowded tomorrow”. The prospect of a good surf session reminded him a bit of his usual personality.
“Sounds great, come back to French cinema for me, then!” I extinguished my cigarette, ruffled his hair, and returned to my room.
I was amazed at how much I had put my thoughts aside. And when I finally heard the shower running down the hall, I had finished six pages. I sat down and looked at the ceiling. It was a bit strange, but a little sad to think that my father was a young man in love. Even when they were together, there was never really any signs of romance between my parents. But I guess the fire was out long before I was old enough to notice anything. Before tonight, I had never thought that my father was able to be passionate about anything that interested him. But he was there, sobbing, looking for a long-dead romance. I shook the image out of my head. He would be fine.
After a few minutes, the shower stopped. I continued to write, stopping to conjugate one verb or another, then writing more. My thoughts, now mainly in French. I was moderately built and I never paid much attention to whether I was sexy or not. If someone complimented me on something other than my brain, it was my ass. It was nice, round, and really filled a pair of jeans. Apart from that, however, years of university education left me pale, unhealthy, and boring. Even that night, I just wore sweaty shorts, an oversized Metallica shirt and no bra. At 35 B.
I stretched out again, let out a loud exclamation of relief, and walked across the hall to brush my teeth. As I came out of my room, I heard my father’s door open.
“Is everything okay?” He was wide awake and just wear boxer.
“Oh, yes, Dad, I’ve just finished my paper and I’m going to bed.”
“Wait, you’re done, good job, let me see it!”
“You see, this one is for my french class, daddy, it’s in french.”
“I always want to see.”
I took him to my room and opened my laptop. “You see, eight damn pages, all in French.”
“Wow, Claire.” He turned to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “I’m so proud to have such a smart girl.”
“Well, I had to have someone’s brain.” I looked at his eyes, and they were sharp again, without tears.
He stared at me and, without looking away, he pulled me closer to him in a hug. He was hot and strong and he smelled good. His hands went down my back and sat just above my ass.
For a moment, I thought of pushing him away. He had never done anything like this before and I almost panicked. But, still looking in his eyes, he smiles at me. “You’re a beautiful girl. Just like your mother was, but…you’re so much more for me.”
I smiled back. “You’re everything to me, Dad, you know that.”
He closed his eyes and, one way to another, I knew what was coming. I’m not sure what to do, but as soon as it happened, his kiss electrified me. My lips relaxed and our tongues met. He slid his hands further down my back and squeezed my ass.
“Can we do this?” he said, pulling his lips away from mine. I was petrified but I could not say no. I nodded and moved closer to him, kissing him deeper.
“Can I move them?” He pointed to the notes spreading on my bed. Still unable to speak, I nodded again. Maybe since I rarely saw him in my small cramped room, my father seemed taller. The light in my desk lamp contrasted with his frame and he looked more muscular, stronger, and tanned. He put my pack of papers in an orderly pile and placed them on my desk. He sat down.
“Come here,” he said. I was standing, frozen in front of him. “Come right here, Lauren.” He pulled me towards him and I sit on his lap.
“I do not want to do anything you do not want, baby.” He ran his fingers over my cheek. “Just tell me, and I’ll go back to bed. What you want.
I could tell him no. I could hand over my paper and be on a plane to Vegas and forget I kiss my father.
The right words have finally come to my lips. “I love you dad.” I kissed him again and put my hands on his chest. “I want that too.”
He did not say anything else by slipping his hand under my shirt. His callous, salt-dried fingers slipped on my soft stomach. I laid to bed and let him explore my navel, my rib cage and finally my boobs.
“Oh baby.” His hands caressing my nipples, he leaned towards me and kissed me again. His tongue then slid down my cheek and into my neck. “So hot,” he murmured, probably for himself. I smiled, happy to see the fire return to my father’s eyes. As he licked my neck and ears, I could feel his cock leaning against my thigh. I was daring and I slipped my hand into his boxer.
“Fuck yes.” He stopped and looked me in the eye. “You like this?”
“Yes,” I whispered, starting to feel a twinge in my clit. I like it, its was thick, uncircumcised and slightly curved up. I rubbed my hand up and down the shaft.
“Here,” he says, sitting down. He withdrew his boxer. “Suck my dick, baby.”
Without hesitation, I put my lips in his head. I heard him moan and his strong thighs gave a hint of quiver. I sucked and licked, releasing it with each breath. Every few moments, I stopped and slipped my tongue under his foreskin. He ran his fingers through my hair and my neck. “Yes, Lauren, fuck yes.”
After a few moments he stopped me. “Come here baby.” We kissed passionately again our tongue coiled together. He laid me on bed. “I know you’re not a virgin, baby,” he said, taking off my shirt.
“No, dad,” I say, brushing his hard cock with my fingertips.
He did not say anything else by slipping his hands into the belt of my shorts. I lifted my ass off the bed, letting it slide down my legs. He lay on me and I spread my legs. The tip of his cock was hanging from my trimmed pussy, which was now shining with moisture.
“That’s good,” he said, sinking into me. I gasp, not quite used to his size. He saw my face go from shock to a painful grimace and finally to a surprised smile.
“You feel good, dad,” I whispered. “I love your cock.”
He smiled at me, stroked my hair and started to fuck me. As wet as I was, he moved with ease. My pleasure was built and I wrapped my legs around him. “Yes, dad, fuck me,” I breathed, making my way to orgasm.
“You like this?” He smiled, fucked me harder and did not sweat.
“Yes, yes, oh yes, daddy,” I moaned, wrapping him tightly in my legs.
I had not called him “daddy” for years and he noticed. He smiled, kissed my neck and slowed down, pushing his cock deeper and deeper into each thrust. I could not help it and I was moving with him, bringing my hips to meet his. He looked at me without blinking as he kissed me until orgasm. I bury my face in her smooth chest while I enjoyed, almost blinded by the intensity.
I lean my head on the pillow. He had stopped pushing but still inside me. “It’s okay?” he asked, looking at me open-mouthed with exhaustion. I nodded.
“Good,” he murmured. “Now it’s my turn.” He started fucking me again, this time faster and stronger. It was not long before I came a second time, as I watched him penetrate passionately into me.
“I’m coming, baby, oh my god,” he said, pushing faster. “Can I…?”
“Yes, daddy,” I say. “Come inside me.” I kissed him and I immediately felt jets of cum burst inside me.
He slid out of me and cramped into my twin bed. Lay down next to me, gently stroking my face and breasts. I did not have words and I simply snuggled against him, feeling his sperm seep into the sheets.
“I love you,” he said rubbing my neck. I had heard it say a million times, but now it had a different meaning.
He sat down and smiled, looking up and down at my naked body. “Do you want me to help you wash your sheets?” he asked, noticing the sperm pudding growing under my ass.
“I’m fine, I REALLY need to sleep ?”
Dad laughed. “Okay then” he said and he pulled me out of bed.
When we lay down on his bed, he pulled me towards him. “Are you sure you do not want to go to Vegas?”
“Dad,” I said, placing myself in his arms, “if I was not sure enough before, I certainly now.” And I fell asleep, knowing that, despite the strength of Wayne Newton, I would never walk in Las Vegas.