Fucking my friends dad behind her back and discovering my daddy issues. He fucked and creampied me.
It was a pretty warm June day, and I had shown up at my friend J’s house at around 5:30. We were both home from our freshman years of college, and we had decided we were going to head to a party together, like in high school but with newfound, college confidence.
Afterwards, when the party ended at around 2 or 3, we’d head back to her place and I’d sleep over. Her dad was very low-key and her mom was out of town for some family event.
My friend J was a pretty big party girl, and we had been friends for a long time. I was always envious of her a little bit. She was just being sort of the model type of person you see in the movies who are pretty and into the nightlife scene. Even though she was quite deep and capable of really rigorous study and conversation.
She was also a pretty big closet nerd. But she kept that part of herself buried pretty deep inside (until recently). If it was around and in full force back then, she’d be considered an Instagram girl. She has luscious, strawberry blond hair, full lips, sparkling blue eyes, deeply caved and shapely hips, and a chest that I imagined she liked to show off. But later conversations revealed that it was just extremely hard for her to find clothing that fit her midsection that didn’t make her tiddies try to break through the dam.
Meanwhile, I am half Asian. A messy tangle of black hair down past my ears that I never bothered to brush, a pouty lower lip, but a thin upper lip. I weighed around 95 pounds I’d guess at 5’2 and had very little muscle mass to speak of. To speak of having very little junk in the drunk. My face had cleared up significantly, but you should still see a few acne scars.
Next to J, I was deeply insecure. While trying to put on a brave face, I tried to prove to her I was just as an adult as she was, despite having a boyfriend at the time and her being single. My facade involved showing her how much I drank during our pregame when we sat watching Futurama VHS tapes she had recorded off Adult Swim and drinking hard cider. I had three of them, trying to prove what a big girl I was.
We got picked up for the party and rolled up around 7. I immediately proceeded to pound three Jaeger bombs and start dancing and then proceeded to feel the world buck in under me. By 8, I was incredibly hammered and couldn’t walk straight. I wasn’t doing too hot, and I felt sick, and I felt a little scared and confused. J wasn’t naughty or mean about it at all when she saw me stumbling around. But understandably she had just gotten there and wasn’t willing to just up and leave an hour into the whole thing.And I didn’t want to feel like a baby and have her take care of me, so I called a cab back to her place, starting drunkenly and sullenly out the cab window.
I pay for the cab and walk in a haze in that sticky summer air up to her front door, only to remember I don’t have the key to her house. I’m pretty much near blackout drunk, and I don’t know what to do so I just knock on the door. When it doesn’t open immediately, break down into tears. Only about 10 seconds later does J’s dad open the door and see me sobbing there, obviously completely drunk.
I start crying even harder, ashamed of both my inability to hold my liquor and that my friend’s father was seeing me in the obvious stupor of <21 drinking in the first place.
He ushered me in, wrapping his arm around me and brings me to the couch in their living room, a maroon and green thing that honestly was hideous, but I was in no position to complain. He lays me down and brings me water. A lot of it. He wiped my forehead with a damp cloth when I get the weird drunk sweats that had me shivering as though I’m coming down with the flu.
Now, dear readers, I’ll be honest, and as you can probably guess from this whole scenario, I have daddy issues. Technically speaking, I have mommy issues too and parental issues overall. I was not used to receiving this kind of attention from an adult figure at all, and hadn’t been since I was very young. Receiving it now, mixed with my revved-up hormones, was sending strange and confusing messages through my entire body. But I was in no position to do anything about it as my world was still spinning. I fell asleep with him petting my head, my entire world vanishing into the pit of drunken darkness and sleep.
I woke up with a shock about two and a half hours later. The chair J’s dad sitting was back in its place in the dining room, the TV playing in their other living room (I had been placed in the entry room, sort of an atrium, due to its proximity to the front door.) J’s dad had made me drink a keg stand with water and I had to pee real bad. I must have changed into my pyjamas at some point, but I didn’t remember when. A matching pink top and bottom.
Swinging my legs off the couch, I felt the cool tile on the heat of my feet. I wandered past the living room to their bathroom sheepishly. He made eye contact with me and asked if I was ok, but the tone seemed strange. Disinterested, almost. While I was doing my business on the toilet, my heart started to shrink and collapse under itself, no doubt an emotional toll of the day. I had embarrassed myself in front of him, and obviously, the kindness he showed me was just a temporary thing. That calming, authoritative, “Everything’s going to be alright” feeling that he had given me when I felt like I was going to barf had vanished. And a maw was starting to take shape in my heart, telling me that I was worthless and stupid. All I wanted was to feel cared about again.
After I left the bathroom, I wandered over to where J’s dad was sitting on the couch. He was watching some show. I don’t remember what, and I half paid attention to it. Half unsure of what to do. I could feel emotions coming to my throat, and I didn’t what to do, so I just kind of blurted out. “Can you check if I have a zit coming in?”
J’s dad blinked at me and said, in a somewhat confused, tone, that he would. He stood up on the couch and walked over to me; he was over 6 feet and seemed like a giant to little 5’2 to me. He leaned down and asked me where it was, and I just pushed my lips into his. Anything to feel wanted or taken care of again.
He didn’t reciprocate. He didn’t do much of anything as my lips pressed against the lips of a man who was not my boyfriend, who was over twice my age, and who was the father of my childhood friend. His lips were bigger than mine and firm and a little rough. And the lack of pushback made my heart completely fall apart.
My brain started to panic. Not only had I embarrassed myself by being a drunk idiot, but now I’d done it by kissing her dad. I’d never be able to talk to J again, never be able to go to her house, I’d never be taken care of, she’d tell all our old friends, my life, as I saw it, as I felt it, was ruined.
The only option was to double down.
I wrapped my arms around his and pushed my body into him as best I could and I deepened the kiss and hoped for something, anything, a sign of affection, and not the rejection that was crushing me down.
Almost automatically, he bit my lower lip, his teeth tugging at it, and I reflexively moaned into his mouth. That got something out of him, and his hands wrapped around me and he pushed his lips into me, and I trembled as a man who had been in the background of my life started passionately kissing me in front of the still-playing TV, but all I could hear was his breath and my moans as his hand reached up and started stroking my hair as we kissed, all I could think about was how drunk I was, not on the liquor but on J’s dad, on the affection and attention I was getting that I had craved for so long.
The attention J’s dad was getting was affecting him too; I could feel it, starting to press against my stomach. That I was desired, as a woman and as a person, by someone taking care of me, flooded my mind. I had to break off the kiss and show him how valued he was so that he would care about me still, and care about me more. I pushed away a little, and I think he figured that was the end of that, that his erection had made me realize what was going on and that it got too real for me. He looked away a little sheepishly, and I think he was having the same thoughts I was earlier when I sat on the couch and started fumbling with his pants.
The pants were easy, I unbuttoned them and slid the zipper down and to those around his ankles quickly. I tried to be fancy and wrangle his cock out the hole in his underwear, but I just embarrassed myself. By that point, though, J’s dad realized what I was trying to do. He gingerly took my hands away and just pushed the elastic down, freeing his shaft.
I reached out and touched him with my hand. At that moment, I understood why there’s that sort of rumour about how old men fuck. His cock was heavy. It was big, too, the biggest I had seen up until that point, with a beautiful upwards curve and a fat, bulbous head that was a little thicker than the rest of the shaft. Prominent veins pulsed along its length. I know a lot of guys love numbers, so I’d estimate that it was probably 7.5 inches long by 6 inches thick, with maybe 6.5 at the head, but honestly, I didn’t have a measuring tape and it’s subject to what my memory remembers.
What I remember was the weight, though. Even if my boyfriend’s cock was the same size as J’s dad’s cock (which it wasn’t), it wouldn’t have weighed the same, wouldn’t have had that same solid feeling in my hand, like I was holding a bat or a pipe. I moved my head forwards and kissed the tip, then along, down the shaft, my own heat growing as my hand slide up and down the base. I kissed with my pouty lips down the side, and then lowered my head down and started slowly planting kisses along the bottom of the shaft.
J’s dad pet my hair and groaned, and then he said something I couldn’t make out, so I looked up at him to try to hear him better. That was the first time we made eye contact since the whole thing had started. His cock twitched; his head rubbed against my soft college girl cheek, spreading a thick glob of precum all over it.
My friend’s father lowered his hand that was petting my head and started rubbing my cheek (the non-precum slathered one) as I looked up at him, and I brought my head forward and took his cock into my mouth completely. Getting the head fully into my mouth wasn’t easy, and as soon as I got my tongue positioned under his cock head, another splurt of pre cum spilt out onto my tongue.
There was so much of it, and I wanted to pull out and either spit it out or get some water, but I was so scared of disappointing him that I did my best to swallow it, something which pleased him greatly. I could have sworn I heard him coo that I was doing good as his hand moved to the back of my head. It was gentle but firm in reminding me to suck on his cock as I managed to, over a few minutes, get more inches into my mouth.
Around 1/3rd of the way or more down his cock, I looked up and made eye contact with him again, and I could feel his pulse in my mouth. His precum tasted like salt and the sea and coffee and leather. His hips started swaying, the gentlest face fucking in the world, as he told me how pretty and cute I was. That validation doubled my efforts, made me feel good, righteously good and worthy, and I pushed my head down further, trying to take as much of him as possible.
I bobbed my head, licked and slurped, and did everything porn and my boyfriends throughout my life had taught me would make a good blowjob good, even though my jaw was starting to ache like crazy. I rested my hand on his muscular thigh for balance and cupped his balls with my other hand. They too seemed huge and heavy, like they had been filled to the brim and weren’t allowed to be unleashed. He mumbled something else and his hand lowered down and squeezed my breast through my pyjamas, and I moaned on his cock, my lips humming and my hot breath blowing across it.
J’s dad’s hand released from the back of me with a groan, and his hips jutted back. I was expecting him to spray all over my face, a prospect I was not relishing, but the facial never came. Instead, in front of me were his ramrod shaft, twitching and throbbing, seeming even larger than before, shining in the TV light with my spittle. He stepped away and walked into the kitchen, and then came back a few seconds later while I sat there in a daze, sitting down next to me and laying my head down in his lap, his cock sitting next to my face.
I thought maybe he’d want me to suck him off like that when I felt his hand push down into my pyjama pants and brush against my cotton panties, the friction of his finger against the cotton, the cotton against my clit, in tiny circles, made my brain go blank. I jolted, and turned my head away from his shaft and into his stomach as he rubbed me like that for a scant few seconds, my breath becoming light and breathy.
He didn’t give my clit too much attention, though, his hand sliding a little lower to my second mouth, which was just as sloppy a drinker as I had been. I was completely soaked by my juices, straight through my panties (and my pyjamas too, honestly), egged on by his shaft and feeling so wanted.
“Oh, Suzie, you poor thing” he whispered as he pets my drenched kitty, before sliding my panties to the side. He tested my entrance a few times before sliding one calloused finger into it, entering me easily. Cue a startled and whimpering moan from me. He pumped a few times with absolutely no resistance. Cue a second, breathy, near-creamy groan as he started working my little pussy. It was a bit of an awkward angle; he couldn’t fully hit my g-spot or go particularly fast, and so it was an incredibly long edge as he made me messy, my hands balled into fists clinging to his shirt as I groaned, knowing that out there my friend is partying and having the time of her life while her dad fingers me.
I don’t know how long he fingered me, only that I didn’t cum from it and it felt like forever. I imagine his wrist got tired, and he slowly slid out of me as I whimpered for release.
He turned me around and put my head on the armrest, my tummy up and lifted my legs up to my chest, pulling my panties and pyjamas off, leaving my pussy exposed to the warm summer air, my fat labia absolutely with my wetness. I was so embarrassed and so aroused and it felt so good to be seen like that. He told me that it was beautiful, and I wanted to live in that moment forever, the blush of my entire body embedding itself in my skin.
He had gone for a few seconds earlier to get some lube, I realized that he slathered it onto his cock. With this, he would be cheating fully on his wife, and me on my boyfriend; I didn’t care. In fact, I felt like I was stealing him from two women at that point.
He saddled up to me and pressed his head against my entrance, the slickness of the lube and my own wetness making him slide up and down my slit, his fat head hitting my clit a few times, creating shudders and jitters from me. He didn’t say a word, and neither did I. We looked at each other again, and I am sure I gave him the most authentic and honest “Fuck me” eyes I have ever given anyone as his head split my lips apart.
I had never had anyone as big as him, and I think he knew that he was quite large. The initial thrust was awe-inspiring. Slick as we were, he was gentle but firm, slowly moving into me millimetre by millilitre, letting my tight teen pussy stretch and accommodate his iron pipe of a cock. He was really tender with me as he slowly pushed me open to have his way into me, filling me up in a way I didn’t understand.
By the time he bottomed out and I felt his heavy balls brush against my little ass, I couldn’t believe that I had taken him all the way inside of me. I couldn’t believe I was fucking my friend’s dad either, the thought of J being sort of distant to the immense feeling of fullness I was experiencing, but I didn’t have time to think about it when he slowly started pulling out.
My brain translated what he was doing. He completely luxuriated in my tight college girl cunt. It was like he was savouring each little bit of it with each part of his cock.
Compared to him I wasn’t “luxuriating”. I was moaning and gasping and panting and groaning and lifting myself up and writhing and whining. I wanted to feel him want me, I wanted to get pounded and get my insides rearranged. And the fact that he was just taking it slow and gently and almost ignoring how I was reacting to that was such an amazing turn-on. Here I was trying to get this guy who had known me for, well, a really really long time to fuck me, trying to fuck myself on his cock, and all he was doing is taking it slow and enjoying every little nook and cranny as he completely filled my pussy up. It drove me crazy.
Then he did something that I didn’t realize would drive me insane but did; he ran his hand down the back of my thigh like he was examining an object of utmost preciousness and rarity. And I felt, frankly, like a doll. A wonderful, beautiful, cherished doll that he’s exploring and playing with and doing whatever he wants to with, even if the doll wants something else.
And he had just finished a backstroke as he was doing this and all these thoughts were flowing into my head and I was having an extremely intense emotional reaction to feeling valued, he thrust in again and his fat, heavy head hit my gspot and I just, unexpectedly and immediately came. It was overwhelming, it was hands down the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced up until that point. I’m pretty sure I screamed into that empty house, my voice easily drowning out the still-playing TV.
I was certain my orgasm would have made him cum too, but it didn’t. He didn’t even seem to react, he just paused for a second and after I stopped shaking, he leaned forward so he was over me and stroked my hair. He asked me if I was a good girl as his thrusting continued, his hand feeling cool to my burning-up body. All I could force out was an “uh-huh” between strokes. I was a good girl, I wanted to be a good girl, I wanted to be cared about and liked and I wanted to keep it that way.
He pushed himself higher up onto me so my legs were closer to my chest, his hand pressing my legs closer to me and also being used for stability, and I felt like he was splitting me open with his married cock. It was faster but not rough, it was a very consistent pace, and with how heavy his cock was, it was mind-numbing. All I could focus on was the sensation of everything. Every vein rubbing against me, his curve kissing my spot, his balls slapping against my ass. He could have done anything to me at that moment. If I could have ever been “hypnotized by cock” to be anything, that would have been that moment.
I felt like such a slut. I was fucking a married guy, my childhood friend’s dad, and cheating on my boyfriend all at once, and I was having a screaming good time. It only added to it, it made my head swim and my body heavy and my mouth dry and wet all at once. And he was using me, a perfect little toy, to make himself feel good. What a pleasure. What an honor.
J’s dad leaned all the way in and made me wrap my arms around his neck, and wrap my legs around his waist. He supported himself on me while lifting my hips up. Fully pressing into me with each thrust, as deep as he could go. How he didn’t hit my cervix, I don’t know and I’m ever thankful for it. He licked up my sweaty, flushed neck and started nibbling on my earlobe. I’m certain those ministrations made my cunt tighten for him.
And then he whispered, with his hot breath tickling my ears, with his cock thrusting into me, in my ear “You’re a good girl, Suzie” — it wasn’t a question, like what he asked when I came on his cock like a mindless whore, it was a statement.
” I’m so proud of you. You’re such a good girl for taking my cock so well.”
I lost my mind, I bucked my hips and screamed and thrust, and I met his hips with mine at every opportunity I could get. The friction and his huge insertion were making my fat lips start to chafe and get sore but I didn’t care, I needed it and I wanted it and I would have it. Even that wasn’t enough to make him cum, though. He bit and pulled at my ear lobe and sped up a little bit again, and I felt like my insides were getting rearranged. Then he awoke something inside of me that I didn’t know was inside me, that I never thought was something I would do or say and haven’t since him. The stars aligned.
He asked me if his cock was making me cum well.
All I could answer was “Yes, Daddy! “Your cock feels so good Daddy, it feels so good!”
I never in my life, not even once, called my real father “daddy.” But here I was, begging to be fucked by a friend’s father, humping and groaning and tugging, desperate for his gorgeous, thick, heavy daddy cock. I took J’s dad, I made him my daddy, and I let him completely destroy my little pussy.
I wasn’t even thinking about whether or not he would react, but he didn’t. He didn’t, he didn’t react to this mewling slut under him that he had known for so long calling him daddy. It was as though it was totally natural to him, and it drove me crazy. The only sign of anything changing is that he sped up and held me a little bit closer. I grabbed his shirt, I tried to kiss him, I tried to do anything but focus on the pleasure and pain emanating from my cunt and focus only on it at the same time. His hips slapped into my mine and I could feel my little ass get vibrations sent through them all the way up my spine as Daddy fucked my brains out.
He didn’t say anything else until the very end, his daddycock slick with my wetness. I could feel the thickness, the weight increasing. I knew what was coming. When he did speak, he said
“You’re not going to stop me”.
I’m certain, now, it was a question. Wasn’t I going to stop him from unleashing his load?
But I took it as a command, as an order. I wasn’t going to stop him, I was his toy to do with as he wanted. That thought overwhelmed me my legs slammed shut only to slam into his hips as I squeezed him and milked him, which drove him over the edge bottoming out, his heavy balls slapping one last time against my ass before spasming, as the seed that made J flooded completely into me.
We didn’t say much during the afterglow, he just kind of held me and kept his cock inside me and pet my head. After a while, he pulled out (and cum dripped out all over the couch) and carried me to the bathtub. He took off my shirt, freeing my chest, which I was still self-conscious about, but I didn’t have the energy to cover up, and after all, after all that, what’s the point?
He started the bath for me and kissed me on the forehead as my legs shook and my pussy ached. I fell asleep in the tub from exhaustion, both from the alcohol and the fucking, and then woke up a little bit later. I got dressed and passed out on the futon in J’s room.
Next thing I know, it’s morning, and J is snoozing played out on her bed. I have no recollection of her coming back home. It’s 10:30 and she’s snoring, I know she’s going to wake up soon and be super hungover, and that we’ll get up and go to brunch at our old local spot. My pussy was still sore and throbbing from its heavy use, and I felt completely at peace.
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