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11:30pm
My father and I had been going at it for almost 7 hours, off and on, by this point. He was relentless. As ashamed as I was, I couldnt believe, still today, how he could not get enough of my pussy. In the throes of ecstacy, I’m sure we were well known by this point, to those staying in the motel. You sure couldn’t have mistaken the actions taking place in room 11 if you happened to walk by.
I mean, here it was Valentine’s Day, my 24th birthday. Having sex with my father, who just got released, AGAIN, from prison, was intense. My husband was out of town on business, my children were at home with sitters. (Or so I thought.) But me? My insides were being plunged by the thickest cock I ever had inside me.
Having cum in me, lord knows how many times, I was falling deeper and deeper into the depravity. The umpteen orgasms he was managing to pull out of me, made it more difficult for me. I WANTED THESE ORGASMS. I NEEDED THESE ORGASMS. The man pulling them out of me, be damned, was the only man I even wanted between my legs. Yes, my overweight, disgusting, criminal father. As ashamed, embarrassed and disgusted as I was, AT THAT MOMENT, no one else was allowed between my nylon clad legs. The runs that developed in my inner thighs were caused by the ginormous man bouncing off me.
But, being oblivious to the numerous silhouettes passing by, or even stopping outside our window, the one silhouette that was there, turned out to be the one I never, ever thought would be there. My husbands.
So focused, and into the moment, I was alone with a man I was now willingly giving myself to. I was begging and yearning for his swollen, bloated pussy pounder, to unload more and more of his ooey gooeyness deep into the recesses of my womb. I wasn’t expecting what came next.
As daddy was starting to cum in me for the 6th time, the one sound I dreaded, occurred.
“Jiggle, Jiggle.”
Hearing the sound of the door handle being fiddled with, caught not only my attention, but daddy’s as well. We went from frantically fucking, to my father literally yelling, “Mother fucker, I told you not to interrupt us!”
Slowly, the door opened. Lifting my head off the pillow, vainly looking over daddys shoulder, wondering who the intruder was that was interrupting what we were doing, I see my husband. My Robert.
Even though daddy was between my upturned legs, his head turned and he, too, realized my husband was standing there. The door was now wide open. Talk about panic.
“OMG! Daddy!” The whole scene was being witnessed by my husband, literally, as my father was cumming inside my love tunnel. My cunt muscles were milking every ounce of cum from his sensitive glans. Pulling out, the white froth that was matted on his dick; the coating of our juices glistening off my little landing strip; the cum oozing out of my pussy and making its’ way to my pantyhose; was a sight to behold.
Casually getting off me, my naked father gets off the bed. Seeing people walk by our room, I try covering myself with the blanket, but to no avail. Feeling the tension rise as my father beelines to my husband, I scurry off our bed. Standing at the side of it, I pulled my soiled, sodden pantyhose back over my waist, and put my boobs back in their bra. Daddy gets in his face and says boldly, yet pointedly, “The little bitch don’t want you. What the fuck you doing here?!”
Just the horrified look of my husband, staring upwards to a man about 10″ taller, and 140 lbs heavier, said it all. I saw my husbands’ Adams Apple, move in his neck, from I assume, gulping. As my husband looked in my direction, daddy, with fire in his eyes repeated himself. “What the fuck do want Junior? I said the little bitch don’t want you!”
Trying to defend my husband, I dare speak against daddy. “Daddy! OMG! He’s my husband!”
Now, grabbing Robert by his cardigan and lifting him I, again screamed, “No Daddy! Please don’t hurt him!”
Turning around, daddy said blankly, “Did I tell you we’re done young lady?” Looking coldly at me he reiterated his statement. “Get back on the bed Sylvie, didnt you ask me to give OUR daughter Diana another sibling?”
Hearing this, reality finally set in to my huband that Diana wasn’t his child. I saw the color go out of his face.
Dropping him, Daddy says, “It’s your lucky fucking day, boy. Get the fuck out of here and file divorce papers. As I said, the little bitch don’t want you. I’m sure you heard us fucking and how she was begging me to cum in her.”
With my mouth on the floor after daddy almost hit my husband, I looked away from Robert with ultimate shame, and began lowering my pantyhose back to my hips and taking my boobs back out of their hiding place.
Lying back on the bed, I heard daddy say, “Don’t even try reporting me or my daughter. I ain’t afraid of prison. But Elizabeth wont have her daddy either. Don’t you fucking touch my own daughter, Diana. We’ll get her when Im done fucking this hot piece of meat!”
Realizing daddy has friends with the Hells Angels, my husband looked at me one last time, lying there on the bed, clearly exhausted, yet seemingly, very satisfied. I stayed silent knowing daddy just made clear that my marriage was indeed over. Robert turned around and left.
As he stood outside the motel room, the squeaking of the mattress began again.
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EPILOGUE…….
After catching us, Robert did end up filing for divorce. The fact I was having an affair with my father was never brought up in court.
Yes, I lost the case due to my infidelity. I also ended up losing custody of my daughter Elizabeth. I proved through the DNA findings that Diana was biologically not Robert’s, but that Elizabeth indeed was his. The night he caught us, my 24th birthday, I learned I conceived again with daddy.
The divorce was extremely contentious, as I soon learned how devastated Genevieve was. She adored me. She loved her nieces. Losing Diana, her DiDi, emotionally hurt her. When I was ultimately moving my belongings out, Mr. and Mrs. Green stood quietly, but with a look that could cut through steel. Genevieve on the other hand, let me know her feelings, to which her parents, understandably so, didn’t correct her choice of verbiage.
I ended up renting a 3 bedroom home with the savings I had saved up over the years.
Tragedy hit twice, in a span of 4 months. First Grandmum died. She bequeathed her estate to me. But in July, Daddy had a massive heart attack as we were fucking one night. Celebrating his 54th birthday, we had been intimate most of the evening.
About 1 am, he was thrusting into my, now, 5 month, pregnant body. Suddenly, his breathing began laboring, so I figured he was ready to cum again. He suddenly stopped, looked at my face, and collapsed right on me.
Not feeling cum hitting my cervix, I panicked.
“Daddy? Daddy?” I said, calling his name. Not moving, I freaked out. With Diana asleep down the hall, I was crying. “Daddy! Noooo!”
Able to reach my cell phone, I called 911. I informed the emergency response team that my husband just had a massive heart attack, and they will find us in our bed, him between my legs. Also informing them of our daughter asleep in her bedroom, they did their best not to scare her, if they had to break the front door down. Pulling him off of me, 4 hours worth of cum poured out of my bruised, swollen, cunt.
Since then, I’ve been distraught. My marriage of 3 years just ended in February. I lost my grandmum in May, and now I lost my father. Our children’s father. I am pregnant with triplets, all girls. In ways, I’m a mess. But in other ways, I was relieved. The son of a bitch got the death he deserved. All that Viagra he took ended up killing him.
After meeting with grandmums estate lawyer, I’m thinking of uprooting my kids and moving to Ipswich, England, to sort out grandmums affairs. Her house will fit, my now, large family. I don’t know if I ever want to get married again. I’ll soon be 25 years old with 5 kids, 4 of which, I physically have custody of.
I can only hope one day, Elizabeth will forgive mommy for ruining our family, but for now, she’s better off with Robert.
The end.
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