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When I was 19, I started my first year of college, but doing so meant I had to move away from my mother’s house. Now, I know that’s not a big deal for lots of people, but that house was where I’d lived with her and my sister since my parents divorced when I was 9 years old. We had countless hours of plain happiness in that house, and now I was forced to move all the way across the country, where I’d be living with my dad instead of staying on campus to save on costs. Again, lots of people probably just think I’m complaining for the sake of complaining, but to a young girl who likes to party a little harder than average, moving in with your ultra-Catholic dad, instead of on-campus accommodation with like-minded students, is about the worst thing in the world.
Every single Sunday since I started living with him, he’s nagged and nagged me to come to church with them, usually with some snide sentence about giving me a chance to “repent for my life choices.” Naturally, I always refuse, but I never had the heart to tell him that I’m a strong atheist. I can imagine a lot of questions about “What life choices is he talking about, Anna?” Well…since I’m not afraid of receiving a little male attention and affection, it goes without saying that my dear old dad certainly didn’t approve of that, especially when it happened “under his roof,” as though it’s my fault I get hit on so often. That said, though, I understand why I get hit on constantly – at 5’4″ with a petite frame and a B cup bra size, I fit almost everyone’s definition of “super cute”. Add in my naturally blonde hair, “sparkling” green eyes, and my personality that usually walks the line between “bubbly” and “quirky” and I’ve probably ticked every single box on most guys’ “ideal girl” checklist, for better or worse.
Anyway, I’ve probably spent more words on myself than any modest person should. Back to the story you came here for. So, I normally wear some rather revealing clothing – low-cut shirts and dresses, short shorts and skirts, and so on. Some people say I openly invite the looks and sexual propositions I get from men. Whatever. I dress for me, not for anyone else. So, I naturally wore my outfits at home as well as out to class and to parties, and occasionally, I would catch my dad peeking looks at my body when he thought I wasn’t looking. For ages, I thought nothing of it, apart from maybe “Oh, he’s probably judging me for wearing something that shows off what little cleavage I have.” And then I’d usually forget about it within five minutes. That is, until one night when I was walking past his room and heard him praying (yes, he’s one of those weird people who prays aloud). I didn’t catch all of it, but what I did hear certainly changed my opinion of my dad forever.
“And forgive me, O Lord, for having these evil, lustful thoughts about my daughter, and please grant me the strength to fight these sinful urges.”
Two things happened after I heard that sentence. One, I turned around and got the hell out of there as quick as I could without being heard. Two, I realised I finally had the ultimate “Get out of church free” card. Well, okay, maybe three things happened. The third is that I suddenly started to realise why mum had been attracted to him all those years ago. He’s not “classically handsome” by any means, but for 48 years old, he didn’t look too bad. He stood at 5’6″ tall, possessed a naturally slim body and a full head of dark hair. Personality-wise, he’s always been quiet, bordering on timid. I’d always secretly found his nature kind of adorable, and naturally assumed that tons of women would feel the same, and I guess my mother was proof of that. Anyway, once I got back to my room, I immediately started my scheming. That Sunday, I knew, things would change. I seriously couldn’t wait, and as a result, the rest of the week dragged like no other week of my life.
Sunday eventually came, and in the evening, Dad once again tried to guilt me into coming to church. I knew this week, I’d have to pull out all the stops.
“No, Dad, I’m absolutely sick of you trying to force me to come canlı bahis to church with you. Ever since I’ve moved in, that’s all you’ve done. Well I’m putting my damn foot down, and I’m telling you I’m not coming, I’m never coming. There is no God.” I put my hand to my chest, and his eyes happily followed it there. “I know in my heart of hearts that’s the truth.” Wearing my favourite (i.e.: tightest) tube top, I had baited him perfectly with that line. I could tell he wasn’t staring at my heart.
“You going to pray for forgiveness after that little look, too, Dad?”
I’d never seen my dad’s face a brighter shade of red. He spluttered a denial, “I wasn’t- I didn’t- I- What look? What are you talking about, praying for forgiveness?”
“I heard you, Dad.” He tried to keep a blank expression. “On Wednesday night, I heard you praying to your God about your lustful looks.” I paused for effect, knowing he was trapped. “Your lustful looks at me.”
After that, the only words that adequately explain Dad’s actions are “freak out.” He tried to explain with about five different excuses all at once, his arms flailing, his eyes wide and his face that almost cartoonish red. I keep telling myself that I never planned to do what I did next, but I’ve never been able to lie to myself.
I calmly walked over to my spluttering, helpless dad, gently stilled his arms with my hands, and kissed him softly and sweetly on his mouth. It was fucking great. Sure, his face was hot with embarrassment, and he was still in denial about his feelings for me, but I loved every second of that kiss. My lips pressed ever so gently against his, my hands rubbing his upper arms, our bodies pressed against each other. Simply the best kiss I’d had in months. He initially gave in, clearly enjoying his first kiss with his hot young daughter. Enjoying it so much, in fact, that I felt something stirring and hardening in his pants, pressing into my lower stomach. But just as I pressed myself harder against that ever-hardening bulge, he unfortunately came to his senses. Dad quickly broke free of my hands’ gentle caress and forcefully pushed me a couple steps backwards.
“No, this feels wrong, Anna. So wrong. Incest is a dirty, sinful thing. Shame on you for daring to suggest such a thing, suggesting that I have such unnatural thoughts.” For a religious guy, Dad certainly knew how to make someone feel like the devil. I was hurt, but not too hurt to stop what I’d started.
“You have feelings for me, Dad, we both know it. Would it be so wrong to give in to them, just for one night? Besides, your God will forgive you and let you go back to being miserable tomorrow. Can’t you just confess and you get a clean slate? For now, let’s just be happy. Together.” While I thought I was being pretty persuasive and sweet, Dad didn’t appear to agree.
“I know you’ll make the right choice, Dad. And I know how I can help you make it.” I placed my thumbs in either side of my tube top and pulled the elastic out and down, exposing my perky little tits to my super-Catholic father. I rubbed them slowly, seductively, for him.
Dad couldn’t look away from my tits, but while he stared at me, he kept repeating things like “Forgive me, Lord” and “You’re speaking of a terrible sin, Anna.” He eventually turned his back to me and started to walk away, but I grabbed his hand, almost reflexively.
“Daddy, please, don’t go.”
I slowly managed to turn him around and kissed him again. This time, I slowly parted my lips and ran my tongue across his lips. I managed to get my father to open his mouth, and I moaned ever so softly into his mouth, my tongue slowly convincing his to dance. My body pressed firmly into his, and this time he didn’t back away. His erection was undeniable. I could feel it throbbing through his pants and mine. Soon, my father wrapped his arms around me and was joined me in my gentle moans. We stood like that, father and topless daughter, making out in the house’s foyer, for almost five minutes. When we finally broke the kiss that seduced my father, he whispered so quietly bahis siteleri I almost didn’t hear it.
I laughed, hard. That was when I knew I had him completely. “Now, father, let me grant you a far more enjoyable religious experience than you’re used to.”
I took his hand and led him to the bedroom where I’d heard him confess his naughty, naughty feelings. I pushed him to his knees (kind of) gently. He stood there, gazing up at me, while I took off my clothes in front of him. First, I removed the tube top that was bunched up in a small ring around my stomach like the world’s smallest hula-hoop. After I’d tossed that to the ground beside me, I unbuttoned and unzipped my short shorts that many people have referred to as “a belt with pockets and leg holes.” Next came my panties. The sexy little pink bikini briefs came sliding down my legs, whereupon I kicked them towards my father’s knees. He didn’t notice, though; he was too busy staring up at his 19-year-old daughter, standing there completely naked, all for him. Since he was in a position of worship, I decided to have a bit of fun with the whole situation.
As I stepped towards him, I was very pleased to notice he couldn’t take his eyes off my freshly-shaved pussy.
“Eat my pussy,” I demanded. “Be born again, dear father,” I added without even trying to hide my condescending tone. He submitted, and began licking my lips which were already quite moist after the kisses we’d shared. Soon, he remembered the clitoris exists and began focusing his attention on mine. I let him know I appreciated the clit licking by grabbing a fistful of his hair and used him to steady myself while I started grinding against his tongue. Sure, it’s always enjoyable getting your pussy eaten, but it’s always disappointing if the guy can’t make you cum. And my dear daddy was quite out of practice. So while I’d ordinarily be disappointed by a cum-free oral session, I reminded myself that Dad and I would have plenty of time for him to learn the proper techniques. Once it was clear I wouldn’t be cumming any time soon, I commanded that Dad strip and lie on the bed.
Watching your father strip after giving you head is a pleasure I’m sure few girls have experienced. And I genuinely feel sorry for any girl who hasn’t seen it; it truly is an incredible sight. He climbed off his knees and unbuttoned his nice dress shirt, revealing his lightly hairy chest with an incredibly sexy “happy trail.”
“Mmmmmmm, very nice indeed, daddy.” He chuckled and the red face briefly returned. Of course, I’d yet to see the main attraction. “Now, the pants. Hurry, father.” I was quickly discovering I was going to be the one wearing the pants in this relationship.
My very obedient dad quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers, and that was when I discovered that he really likes coloured briefs. This particular pair was an incredibly bright green. Ordinarily, I’d burst out in hysterical laughter upon seeing a man, almost 50, wearing underpants designed and marketed for guys my age, but my wanting to keep a stern, commanding attitude stopped me this time. Needless to say, though, I mocked him relentlessly the next day.
Anyway, soon the offending underwear was gone, too, and then I got to see my father’s cock for the first time. At a guess, I’d say he’s around 7″ when hard, and wide enough that I can’t get my hand all the way around it. His pubic region is super hairy, which I’ve always enjoyed. Seriously, there’s something weird about straight guys who invest time into styling their pubic hair. Dad’s cock stood hard and proud, a testament to the sex-obsessed, godless man I would soon transform him into.
“Now, onto the bed with your cock facing towards the heavens.” He did as commanded, and I took my time following him onto the bed, wanting to prolong his (and my) unfulfilled lust for as long as I could. “I don’t know about you, father, but I think this is a fuckload more fun than what you’d be doing in church.” I stepped closer. “Before tonight, how much did you believe in God? Because, you certainly bahis şirketleri gave him up awfully quickly once I let you know I’d be fucking you tonight. You’re a weak, pathetic man. Aren’t you, dad?”
He seemed a bit hurt, but clearly not enough to let it affect his erection. “Yes, Anna. I’m pathetic”
I climbed onto the bed, positioning myself so that I was straddling him, my pussy hovering inches above his eager, throbbing cock. “Fear not. Instead, give yourself to me, father, and you shall have a true religious experience. Indeed, you shall experience the divine.” I’ll always remember just how conflicted my father looked when I finally slid down on his cock. He was clearly in ecstasy, but didn’t want to show me how glad he was that he’d failed to follow his God’s teachings. As for how I felt when dad entered my pussy for the first time? I didn’t hold back on expressing my enjoyment at all. I moaned as I pushed every inch of my Catholic father’s cock deep inside my slutty pussy. Why the fuck had I waited so long for this? I mentally kicked myself for waiting so long to seduce this beautiful cock and the man to which it was attached.
“Mmmmmmmmmmm, fuck that feels good,” I moaned as I began riding up and down on his cock. I leaned forward, my hands resting on Dad’s chest for balance. At first, Dad was silent and motionless, almost as though he was having second thoughts about fucking me. Like hell I was going to let him back out now. I picked up my rhythm and tightened my pussy, squeezing his hard cock as I fucked my dad harder and faster, moaning louder as I quickened. That seemed to do the trick. Daddy started moaning, quietly at first, before soon matching my volume and level of enthusiasm. He grabbed my ass cheeks for purchase and started thrusting, easily finding and matching my fucking rhythm. That’s when I knew he’d agree to anything.
“There is no God, is there, dearest father?” I panted when Daddy reached his peak speed. “Noooo, there’s no God…but there is your Anna. I’m here, Daddy, you can worship your heavenly daughter instead.” Apparently I was wrong about Dad’s top thrusting speed, because after I teased him with that, he started fucking me even harder, thrusting so hard into my pussy that his pubic bone was stimulating my clit. Now there was a feeling a girl could get used to. But I could tell he wasn’t going to last long enough to make me cum from thrusting into my clit. I knew the only way to perfect this moment for such a religious man. I looked deep into his eyes as he was fucking me and cried out, “Tell me I’m now your Goddess, Daddy. Say it before you cum!”
My dad equal parts yelled and moaned, “You’re my Goddess, Anna!” seconds before he came. And when he came, my father fucking came. His back arched, and his stomach contracted, and he cried out in pure ecstasy. With each subsequent spasm, I could feel the massive load of cum come shooting up from the base of his cock to the tip, and then firing deep inside my pussy. There must have been at least ten different shots fired into me, leaving me feeling like I was going to explode with cum. But fuck! It felt so good – both the sex and the corrupting a man to the point of giving up religion, fucking his daughter and cumming into her pussy.
When I was sure Dad’s orgasm was finally finished, I climbed off his cock and collapsed onto the bed beside him. He rolled over and snuggled into my breast, and I put an arm around him while I felt the familiar, almost-tickling feeling of cum starting to leak out of me. He breathlessly thanked me for granting him a true religious experience as I’d promised. After I made a snide joke about being the only heavenly figure to actually fulfil a promise to one of their followers, I quietly told him I was proud of him.
“What for, Anna?”
“For finally seeing the light, Daddy.” And with that, apparently, we fell asleep.
After that one night of pure passion and dirty, sinful incest, I had converted my dear father into a true, blind believer. Apart from fucking my dad every couple of days, my lifestyle hasn’t really changed since that night, though. In fact, I’m partying even harder now that I don’t have to deal with a judgemental father back at home. No, quite the opposite – Dad now lets me do whatever (and whoever) I desire; I am a Goddess, after all.
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