Taking Mommy's Place Pt. 02

All characters are at least 18 years of age.

In Episode 1, I related the events after the death of my mother in a car crash on my 18th birthday. My fear that Daddy would try to harm himself because of his deep grief led me to start sleeping in bed with him. I came to realize that he needed me to take my mother’s place in every way, a thought that both shocked me and thrilled me. Daddy, to his credit, never ever made any inappropriate advances. In fact, when I tried to “help him out” he resisted – vehemently at first, but eventually it led to… well, maybe you should read Episode 1 before you read this.

The morning after: I woke up, naked, cuddled up against Daddy, who was laying on his left side, snoring. Was last night real? Had my Daddy and I had oral sex? The thought was just too delicious and too good to be true. Lust coursed through my body. I knew I wanted and needed more. Would he agree to do it again? Would he let me suck his big Daddy-dick again and swallow his delicious Daddy-load? Would he suckle his little girl’s breasts and lick my virginal pussy until I came in his handsome face??

I had saved myself. I had always gone to church. Mom had always made sure that we did and she emphasized being “a good girl” and saving myself for marriage. Daddy had always at least given lip service to all she said. He, too, believed in church attendance and living a moral life. I bought into it. I knew that I wasn’t supposed to have sex before marriage.

I knew, too, that incest was looked upon as a perversion, and there were biological reasons for that as well as the fact that it was a deviation from cultural norms. But I grew up believing that sex is not just an animal impulse, but an expression of deep love. Well, who do you love more than your family members? I loved my brother and my Daddy more than any males on earth. Even when I had crushes on other guys, I didn’t have that deeply embedded trust and lifelong love. Besides that, they were both so handsome and treated me like a princess.

After Mom’s death, when I started sneaking into Dad’s bed to make sure he was not doing himself harm, I began having sexual fantasies about my Dad, especially after he would roll over in his sleep and fondle my breasts with his hard cock against my butt.

Then “the incident” happened. Upon awakening and realizing that I had just had oral sex with my own Dad, I had all kinds of thoughts running through my head. I desperately wanted him to be okay with it and I envisioned having a full-fledged sexual relationship with him — at least oral sex.

I hugged Daddy, noticing that he had put his boxer shorts back on, apparently after I fell asleep. He snorted and rolled over to face me. I kissed him – just a peck on the lips. He smiled, sleepily.

“Honey, please put some clothes on,” he yawned.

“Why, Daddy?” I asked as I stretched, thrusting my breasts out to make sure he saw them. Even after last night’s attention, they were eager to be sucked and licked again.

“Honey, it’s not right. Last night was a mistake,” he said as he got out of bed and, without looking back, trudged to the bathroom.

‘Is he fucking kidding?’ I wondered. All this build up and anticipation and he thinks it’s going to be a one night stand?

When he came back into the room I was still totally naked, laying as provocatively as I could. He looked and I saw the interest. Maybe not lust. After all, I drained him well last night, but he couldn’t ignore me.

“Pammy, please. Put your clothes on. Get a shower and we’ll talk. Go. I’ll make breakfast.”

I reluctantly went to my bathroom and showered, then dressed in panties and a short tee shirt, my usual attire for bed or just to lay around the house if there were to be no visitors. Daddy had cooked up eggs and bacon and pancakes. I love pancakes! And coffee.

We didn’t talk much during breakfast except for small talk. So, he didn’t want to talk about it. Okay. What could I say? I wanted more. It didn’t have to be intercourse. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted that, although I desired it. I realized that he probably felt guilty. I should have, too, but I didn’t. Not a bit.

Finally, Daddy blurted, “Pammy, you just can’t be sleeping in the bed with me anymore. It’s wrong. What we did last night was incest!”

I giggled, at which he looked surprised and a little peeved. “They say incest is best, Daddy!” I laughed, got up, and jumped in his lap.

He tried not to laugh, and tried to push me off his lap, but I bit his ear and stuck my tongue inside it. Then I tried tickling him. Then I kissed his mouth and he let me, but just for a few seconds. He got up, dumping me off his lap and I nearly fell in the floor.

“You have got to stop this, Pammy. I mean it. It’s wrong.”

“But I like it,” I said seriously. “It makes me feel alive for the first time since Mom has been gone. And I know you like it. Tell me you don’t.”

I waited while he studied me. He looked at the floor, sighed, and sat back down. “That’s the problem, Pammy. I like it. Even without what happened last night, I like it… everything. Being here with you. You sitting in my lap. Your short tee shirts. Your flirting.” He stopped and tears came into his eyes. “You’re so beautiful, and you remind me so much of your mother, and it breaks my heart.”

I cried, too, and Daddy took me in his arms and I sat on his lap. I wanted him. So bad. I wanted him to love my body and make me feel good. I wanted him to take the pain away, and I wanted to take his pain away. I wanted to take care of him.

After breakfast, Daddy went to work. I had several chores I had to do and I had to study. Final exams and graduation were coming up. It made me sad to think of my mother, whom I had actually had as a teacher, not getting to see me graduate. I was near the top of my class, even with all the time I had missed. She would have been so proud of me.

Daddy was on my mind all day. Should I just do what he said? Just forget it ever happened? Could I do that? Could he? After last night, how could I resist him? It was so fucking good! And I know he loved it, too. Doesn’t every man love a blow job? Especially when the girl will drink his cum? FUCK! I wanted more. I had to have more. But I could not be demanding. I could not argue with him. I had to just be myself!

We had take-out Mexican that night. Fajitas. My favorite! We ate and he cleaned up while I finished some homework. Then I put on an old nightie, one that I had probably quit wearing 3 or 4 years previous. I could barely get it on. It was almost uncomfortably tight and didn’t even cover my panties. I don’t care for thongs, much, but I wore the briefest bikini panties that I could locate. The nightie showed off my every curve. I looked fucking hot, if I may say so. My nipples were hard and I was horny and needy.

Daddy had the Braves game on and was sitting in his recliner. I started rubbing his shoulders. “That feels good, honey,” he said, closing his eyes.

“Did you have a hard day at work, Daddy?”

“Not really. I’m a little tense because I’m behind. I can’t seem to get caught up.”

“Your muscles are tense. You need to lay down and let me rub your whole back.”

At that he opened his eyes and looked up at me. He noticed the tight nightie and how my nipples were rock hard. He closed his eyes again and said, “Here is fine. It feels great, honey.” I continued to massage his shoulders and upper back, but I could see, even with his jogging pants on, that I had affected him.

After a few minutes, during which time I made small talk with him about the Braves, I came around and sat in his lap. I could see and practically feel his eyes feasting on my body. The nightie was working its magic. My panties were wet and I wanted him to touch me. Fuck, I was horny. He could do anything to me. I didn’t care. If he wanted my virginity, it was his. If he wanted a repeat of last night, that was fine, too. If he wanted to just kiss and hug and touch me all over, I could be satisfied with that, but FUCK I needed his attention.

I kissed his neck and ears and stroked his hair. He was motionless. Ugh! Was he not going to cooperate? I kissed his mouth, but he moved his head. I straddled him, grinding myself into his hardness through our clothing. He acted like he was watching TV. At least his cock was hard. I whispered, “I love you,” in his ear, and he replied in kind. Straddling him, I raised myself up and, grasping the hem of the translucent nightie, with great effort lifted it over my head, throwing it in the floor. My nipples were as hard as diamonds and were practically in his face. I pressed my breasts into his face, desperately needing him to fondle, kiss, and suckle them.

No.

“Get up, Pammy. I mean it. This has gone far enough,” he said angrily. I didn’t like that voice. It scared me. I had never liked it when my Dad got angry; it was very rare for him to do so, and even more rare for him to be angry at me.

I got up. “Go to your room. Don’t come back down until you wear something decent. This is stopping right now! Do you understand me?” He was shouting. I nodded and burst into tears.

I ran upstairs and closed my door. I cried and cried. I had disappointed him! I wasn’t as good as Mom. I couldn’t do what Mom did. It wasn’t the same. He couldn’t love me like he loved her. I was inexperienced. He had rejected me. He saw me as a kid. I had to admit that what we had was not real. I was so disappointed and so hurt. Daddy had rejected me. Maybe he still loved me? I knew he did, but not the way I wanted him to. I thought I could take Mommy’s place, but now I knew that I couldn’t. I never wanted him to forget her, of course, but I wanted to make sure his needs were met and now I understood that I could not fulfill his needs.

I made up my mind that night. I would still fantasize about him (how could I not?), but I would behave. I would wear thick, long pajamas that would not show my body. I wouldn’t even kiss his cheek unless he kissed mine first or asked me to. I would try not to let him know how hurt I was. I wouldn’t even mention it. Ever. My whole life.