That was why Florida did me wonders. Busy as I was the only I had time to think of my father was during those restless nights when I tossed and turned. A part of me missed his kisses, missed his proclamations of love. I missed the comfort of another person. Over the years he had become my crutch. After spending some time without him I began to realize that I could survive on my own. It was difficult for sure but I could do it. I could be a good daughter without being a good lover.
Speaking of lovers, I took one while in Florida. He was a nice boy, 21 years old and the manager of the fruit stand I worked at. He was taking classes at the local community college trying to get on his feet after he had nearly ruined his life with drugs. His smile was haunted, revealing a vulnerable side that matched my own. We were two broken dolls trying to fix ourselves and our union seemed almost ironic.
I enjoyed his company and listened intently to his stories. We weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend, we both understood that my short stay couldn’t entail that type of relationship, but we were together in every other way. His touches burned me and his kisses only served to stoke the fire. When we united it was tragic and beautiful at the same time. I thought of my dad when we did this, but rather than the remorse I expected to feel I was instead filled with joy. I had wanted to see if I could be with another man and in Florida I found my answer.
I could.
If I so chose to I could lead a happy life with a good family and a loving husband. The revelation took a load off my chest. Our loving was the only confirmation I needed. I wasn’t a broken sex toy. I was a doll in the process of mending.
The day I was set to return home I spent one last moment with my fruit stand beau. In the middle of our throes of passion he had bent close, whispering in my ear that he would remember me for the rest of his life. His words surprised me. He hadn’t said ‘I love you’ or ‘Stay with me,’ instead he had given me something much better. He let me know that love did not need to be restraining. It may sound cliche but that day he taught me that love could set you free. It was a thought that would stick with me for the rest of my life.
Still, all the loving in the world couldn’t calm the jitters I had over seeing my father again. I had spoken to him once in my entire trip and needless to say the phone call ended badly. I could tell that he was hiding in the bathroom while speaking to me, the acoustics of the tiled room fairly easy to pinpoint. The fact that he had to hide just to talk on the phone made me incredibly angry.
He should not have to lock himself away in order to have a conversation with his daughter. I let him know so and he briskly reminded me that I wasn’t just his daughter I was his lover as well. That line threw me for a loop. I was an idiot to think he didn’t know me just as well as I knew him. Earlier in the conversation when he had asked me if I made any friends in Florida I had responded with a quipped ‘yes.’ That yes told him all he needed to know, he could sense the truth.
We were both furious at one another. Him that I was sleeping with someone else and I that he was still clinging to the idea of us as lovers. I hung up the phone and never called back.
I had already grabbed my luggage and was waiting at pick-up when my father pulled up. My mom wasn’t with him but that wasn’t too big of a surprise. January tended to be her busiest month. I knew it was a possibility that I would go home to a house with just my father. I hoped that wouldn’t be the case but I knew it was more than likely.
I put my suitcase into the car and hopped into the passenger side. My father hadn’t really looked at me when he pulled up. From the small sneaks I managed to get at him I could tell he was tense. His body language oozed hostility, a fact that made me tremble. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me but I also knew that his passion had the ability to break any resolve I mustered. I only hoped he would accept the change in our relationship and move on.
The airport was an hour drive away from our house and in all that time we didn’t speak a word to one another. The silence cloaked us, overpowering my blissful memories of Florida with the pain drenched ones of home. When the car finally pulled into our garage we were both as tense as ever. The second the engine was off I opened my door and leaped out of the car. I couldn’t be alone with him. Being with him was asking for trouble. I rushed to the back, opening the trunk and grabbing my suitcase. If I worked fast I could book it up to my room before he knew what was going on. I had to move quickly.
With all my preoccupation about getting my luggage I had failed to notice the eerie calm which had settled over my father. Yet his change in demeanor didn’t go unnoticed when I closed the trunk door and was immediately greeted with all 5”11 of my dad mere inches away from my body. His emotions were masked, the only thing giving him away the thick pole under his shorts. I had been trying to keep my eyes trained on his but my brief glance at his shorts, a habit really, caused my stomach to lurch. At the sight I felt my nether regions tingle. Obviously I wasn’t as indifferent to him as I had hoped.
He covered the inches between us quickly. Grabbing my luggage, pushing it aside, giving the two of us a decent amount of room in our rather tiny garage. I tried to skirt away to the door, but all I succeeded in doing was pushing myself up on the trunk of the car. Sensing the opportunity my dad trapped me with his body, his strong form creating a makeshift cage that left me pinned against the vehicle. His crotch pushed into mine as his hands went to my neck, caressing the sensitive skin there while his lips placed sloppy kisses around my face.
I wiggled a little, still too surprised to find my voice. Yet in my struggle I stupidly wiggled my heated pussy right up against his clothed member. He released a guttural groan and picked up his intensity. Coarse hands roughly scoured my thighs as his fingers tugged at the hem of my dress. It bunched up around my waist, exposing a bright red pair of lacy underwear, stupid now that I think about it, because at the sight of it the thin mask my father had been wearing broke. His eyes became intense, his body pushing me deeper on to the cold metal. “Kick it off,” he quipped.
The tone of his voice scared me and I froze in place, not wanting to be the one to reveal myself to him. Sensing my reluctance he bent over, keeping his body tight against mine and reaching down with one hand to shove my panties down my legs. The lacey material snagged on my toe and he pushed off my body to help me with it. “So sexy baby,” he muttered, sinking to his knees and blowing cold air straight onto my exposed lips glistening with juices. I shivered at the sensations, hot and cold jolts melting my resolve.
He pulled off my underwear, yet when he stood back up I was surprised to see the thong still clamped tightly in his hand. As I watched in horror he brought the red lace to his face and inhaled my scent. His eyes rolled back in bliss and he smashed his crotch against mine, lost in some weird type of fantasy. Seeing him distracted I pushed my knee into his thigh and tried to slip away to the door. It was useless though because his muscled body easily withstood my shove. I grunted a little as I desperately tried to wiggle away again but with my second attempt my dadʻs eyes returned to normal and he locked his gaze with mine. “No,” he whispered, and with that he threw my panties out of sight and shoved his lips onto mine.
With the smell of me burned in his mind my dad honed in. He expertly used his cock to keep me tight up against the back of the car. He looked down, and I could tell he was only now realizing that he was pushing himself into my naked cunt. At the sight of my exposed skin his eyes sparked and his hands flew to his pants. He made short work of the zipper but instead of removing his bottoms like I thought he would my dad pushed down his underwear only enough to allow his cock freedom.
It popped out like a finely tuned instrument, its wetness slobbering over the top of my pussy. The coldness of it made me self-conscious and I tugged at the dress around my belly, trying to get it back down over my exposed bits. Yet hewas one step ahead and, as he was now satisfied with the freedom of his fuck pole, he was able to use his hands once again. He tugged the dress over my head and threw it atop the car haphazardly. Pinning my body he created a cage, grubbing out a single “no” when I tried to wedge my hand between us for distance.
I opened my mouth, determined to say my piece. He knew this was wrong, he had promised that he would never force himself on me. The fact that his lust was so great that he couldn’t even wait until I got in the house revealed the truth of his state of mind. He needed help. I was going to tell him this, let him know just how unlike himself he was being. I opened my mouth, ready to speak when his right hand abruptly clamped over my lips. My eyes darted up to his face, fear running through my veins. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to take me without my consent?
“No words baby,” his tone was scratchy, filled with emotions I couldn’t quite place. “I’ve waited long enough, a month and two weeks. I’m going to take what you owe me.” Even if his voice sounded the same as always his eyes were all wrong. Something was off and it wasn’t his hand clamped over my mouth or his half-undressed dick poking out of his shorts. It was his eyes, they were distant and far-away. Who this man was I didnʻt know, because he definitely was not my father.
Before I could really dwell on that thought his free hand lightly danced across my collarbone before landing on my left breast. He teased it with his index finger and thumb, smiling as the nipple perked up in his palm. I hadn’t worn a bra, the dress came with a built in one, and with my dad playing with my breast so easily I regretted my choice. At least a bra would’ve given me more time. More time to get away before he melted me with these soft touches. The heat between my legs was growing, making me uncomfortable.
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