The outfit came with a jet-black wig made from human hair instead of syntho-hair, like most rentals. I was having a tough time believing that such a deliciously slutty costume was still available on Halloween day, but I didn’t question my luck. I simply whipped out my plastic and rented it before some desperate shopper snatched it right off me.
“If you can spare two or three hours, our tailor can make on-site alterations to better accommodate your…um, ample bosom,” the sales clerk offered. “He’s very busy, what with it being Halloween and all, but I could ask him to rush.”
“I really can’t afford to wait,” I deadpanned. Inwardly, I was cracking up. You see, I had just assumed that a man who works in a costume shop would be gay but the way his eyes locked onto my triple-Ds and the way his cock was straining against his gabardine slacks disproved that theory. Or maybe he was changing religion, as it were, just for me. “I’m running a bit late already,” I fibbed, “so I think I’ll save time and just wear it instead of changing.”
In truth, I still had almost three hours before my friend’s Halloween party. I giggled when I thought how amazed she’d be that I could put together such a great look after only one day’s notice of her party. Although we’ve been best friends since grade school, there has always been an element of competition between us. I’m almost certain that she harbors a ton of jealousy because she’s much less generously endowed than I am and less attractive to men. I’ll even bet that she intentionally delayed telling me about her party in hope I’d show up in some lame, leftover costume that would make me look like a Disneyland reject. Well, nice try, Caroline, but I’m about to show you how hot the macabre can be with the right body.
Several times as I drove home, I saw a car behind me that looked familiar. It was the same make and color as my daddy’s car, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was tailing me. When I thought about it, however, I told myself I was being ridiculous. Daddy would still be at work, for one thing. And the world is full of silver Audis for another. Every time the car turned whenever I did, I reminded myself how many like it there must be in Seattle and that it was it was probably pure coincidence that its owner was going my way.
Suddenly it hit me what was causing my paranoia. I hadn’t seen my daddy in more than a week and I’d gotten so excited about Caroline’s exotic, erotic Halloween bash that I hadn’t even thought about him. That’s really unusual for me. Normally, I think about Daddy a lot. We were so close when I was a little girl. I practically lived on his lap, and he never refused to play games with me or read me fairy tales, no matter how tired he was. I was the dictionary definition of daddy’s girl.
All of that changed quickly when I was about 11 or 12. He became much more distant, and I didn’t know why. I do know that I was confused at first. Very confused and very hurt because I thought Daddy didn’t love me any more. I was miserable for weeks, but one day I caught him by surprise and jumped onto his lap. He pushed me away hard and fast, but not before I felt a huge cock stiffen beneath me and felt its heart pour through my thin cotton panties. At last, I had a why. His gruffness and his seemingly uncaring attitude still hurt me, but at least I knew I hadn’t done anything terrible to make him hate me. I had just started growing up and Daddy was fighting a hellish battle against his desire to fuck his own daughter.
His aloofness got even worse about the time I broke through the C-cup barrier in eighth grade. By the time D-cups were getting tight on me, he was working 16-hours days and barely speaking to me on his rare days off unless there were lots of other people in the room. Now and then I would catch him watching me, his eyes burning with intensity, but he would look away quickly when he realized I’d seen him.
Knowing that I was turning Daddy on and that he was resisting a desire to fuck my brains out helped me to deal with the huge difference in the way he treated me, but it simultaneously creeped me out, mainly because I wanted him every bit as me wanted me. I knew that every one would think it was very wrong for me to have such feelings about my father, although I couldn’t understand why it would be wrong. In my mind I was ashamed but between my legs, it felt so good.
And then the erotic dreams began.
I had hundreds of dreams over the years, starting just three or four nights after I first realized how much Daddy wanted me. The dream sex was very different on individual nights but the details were otherwise always the same. I would be snug in my own bed, sound asl**p, and Daddy would sneak into my room He’d clamp his hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming before I was fully awake. I’d be so happy that Daddy wanted to cuddle with me again, but I’d belatedly realize that he was naked and sporting a hard-on the size of a salami.
Sometimes Daddy would fuck me long and hard, and then pull out at the last moment to give me a facial or come on my tits. In my dreams, he’d be so excited that he would come by the pint, drenching me and my bed with his semen. Other times, he would roll me over and fuck my ass until he shot his load deep inside me. He always seemed to know when I was having my period, and then he would titty-fuck me until we came in unison. Sometimes, he would simply want me to suck his cock. Remembering those dreams, I began giving practice blowjobs to bananas, honing my skills just in case my dreams ever became a reality.
Regardless of what kind of sex Daddy and I had in my dreams, they always ended the same way. I would come so hard that my orgasm would jolt me out of my slumber and I’d find myself bathed in sweat …but all alone.
At first, my excitement was matched only by my guilt. I was convinced that wanting sex with my own father made me the biggest slut on earth. But I love my Daddy so much, and I wanted with all my heart to make him happy. More selfishly, I also knew that Daddycock would make me very happy.
Happily, I soon began to realize that sex occurring only in my sl**ping mind hurt no one, since I alone knew about it. I began to crave those dreams and I reveled in the wonderful nights they visited me. On nights when no dreams came, I would settle for masturbation in the small hours of the morning, always fantasizing about Daddy but always knowing that real sex with Daddy would bring me joy far beyond anything my fingers could provide.
Waves of these old memories flooded over me as I drove home from the costume shop, and my left hand almost involuntarily slipped under the thigh-high slit of my skirt as I drove with my right hand. I was putting on quite a show for other drivers, a fact I realized when I realized that cars in adjacent lanes were narrowly escaping accidents because their drivers were fixated on me instead of the freeway. Exhibitionism wasn’t my goal, but neither did it deter me. All that mattered to me was release from the intense horniness my reminiscences had caused. But that release refused to come. My fingers merely got me hotter and hotter and hotter.
I turned onto my home street at last, left the car sitting in the street and ran—not walked—into my house. Taking a few seconds to strip off my Elvira costume would have been the wise thing to do, of course, but I was too far gone to be intelligent. I didn’t even take time to retrieve my vibe… I jumped onto my bed, hiked up my skirt, and began to finger-fuck myself as hard and as fast as I could.
For how long, I don’t know. I was lost inside my own passion so thoroughly that time ceased to exist. It could have been thirty seconds. It could have been five minutes. All I know for certain is that I suddenly heard Daddy’s voice, harsher and more furious than I’ve ever heard it before. My eyes flicked open and he stood before me. In my frenzy, I had forgotten to lock my front door and he must have walked in and followed my moans to the bedroom.
“Slut!” he roared. “You’re a filthy little slut! Driving all over Seattle in that cat suit, with a hundred men gawking at you! Don’t try to lie about it. I’ve been watching you all afternoon.”
“Oh, Daddy, don’t be such a fuddy-duddy. It’s just a Halloween costume for Caroline’s party. You remember Caroline,” I continued, trying to defuse his rage with some misdirection, “my best friend ever since third grade.”
“It’s a whore suit and you’re a whore!”
“Daddy, this dress shows less of me than the bikinis I wore when we used to go to the beach.”
“At least you weren’t masturbating in public back then!” he raged, “giving the whole world a birds-eye view while you frig yourself. Don’t deny it! When I came in, you were you were sprawled on that bed with your pussy wide open!”
“The whole world isn’t here,” I snapped. “It’s just you and me in my house. I didn’t invite you today and I didn’t even know you were here.”
“You weren’t in your own house when you were pounding your pussy clear across town, were you?”
I must admit, he had me there. “Well . . . uh . . . you . . . uh . . .” I stammered. “I’m not 12 anymore. I’m 22 and I’m married and I’m not your little girl any more. Well, I am still your little girl, but you know what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean,” he said in the iciest voice I’ve ever heard. You mean you want to be a slut. Well, fine, you’ll be my slut too then.”
His expression was one of anger, but also one of sheer lust. My heart was beating so hard I thought it would explode. I was immensely excited that my fantasies seemed on the brink of coming true, but I was also scared…scared of my own Daddy for the first time in my life.
Without another word and without even a tiny bit of foreplay, he flipped me over onto my stomach, lifted my hips to get me where he wanted me, and slammed his huge throbbing cock deep into my ass in one hard thrust. It was by far the biggest dick I’ve ever taken—the biggest I’ve ever even seen outside a porn movie—and it hurt like hell, but it simultaneously felt wonderful beyond description.
I gasped, partly in fear but mostly in ecstasy. That seemed to inflame Daddy even more—both his anger and his passion. “Shut up,” he hissed. “And don’t you dare try to get away!”
Escape would have been impossible, even if I had tried. Daddy’s left hand gripped my hip, fingertips digging into my soft flesh, and his right arm pinned my head to my mattress.
He pounded me with thrust after thrust, never pulling back so much as recouping for a moment before shoving even deeper into my ass as his weight pressed me even further into the mattress. As I gasped for air, I was surprised to hear myself screaming, “Yes! Oh God!” as an orgasmic wave swept over me.
My words seemed to inflame both Daddy’s lust and his anger. “You like it, don’t you?” he rasped. “Tell me you like it!”
“I love it Daddy! It feels soooo good! Fuck me hard!” I gasped as a second orgasm sent my body into spasms.
“Let’s see how you like it when I come in your cunt,” Daddy growled. He flipped me onto my back and shoved his cock into my dripping wet pussy. Riding me fast and hard, penetrating me all the way to the hilt, he leaned forward and began to suck my nipples. The shaft of his cock rubbed against my clit as he fucked me and I could feel his pulse, feel the bl**d gushing through his cock veins as he fucked me. His weight lifted off me momentarily each time he pulled back, so I took advantage of the moment to grind my wet pussy against his cock.
“It feels so good!” he moaned, and began to pump more gently but even faster. Suddenly I heard his guttural groan merging with my own orgasmic shrink. Then everything went dark.
I don’t know whether I came so hard that I fainted or whether my head hit the headboard of my antique brass bed. I don’t know whether I was unconscious for seconds or minutes. When I came to, Daddy was standing over me with tears streaming down his face.
“Thank God you’re awake!” he said. “I couldn’t live with myself if I’d killed my little girl. I love you so much, and I’m so sorry I can’t begin to…”
“I’m fine, Daddy. I had a worse headache from the champagne at Cousin Sara’s wedding reception.”
“I don’t mean just that,” he said softly. He hung his head low for a long moment and seemed to be struggling for words. “I should never…There’s no excuse for what I did…It’s just that…”
“Just that what?” I prompted.
“Well . . . you . . . uh . . . you grew up so much faster than I expected and you became so beautiful and I found myself …uh…responding in ways I shouldn’t have.
And it got a million times worse when I realized that you were having sex with other guys, but not with me. I tried so hard to fight those thoughts. You’ve got to believe that.”
“I understand, Daddy, and I know how hard you resisted. I was doing the same thing.”
Daddy looked at me in amazement. “You mean… you mean that…” he stammered, trying to form a coherent sentence.
I had an entire flock of butterflies churning in my stomach, knowing that it was a now-or-never moment—it was time to offer myself to Daddy completely and hope for the best. It was a hopeful sign that Daddy was talking to me about things that would have been impossible for him to say to me just a few days ago, but there was no way to know how he’d react to what I was about to reveal
I took a deep breath, summoned every bit of courage I could muster, and said, “I’ve had sex with a few guys, and some of it was great. But there was always something missing, something they couldn’t give me. None of them made me feel the way my Daddy does. Nobody else was ever as kind and as loving and—to tell the complete truth—none of them ever made me as weak in the knees as Daddy does. I’ve wanted you every bit as much as you’ve wanted me but I didn’t know how to tell you. I was afraid you’d be disgusted or that you’d hate me.”
Suddenly, his arms were around me and he was holding me the way he did when I was a little girl. “I could never hate you, Britt,” he said. “I’d give anything to take back those terrible things I said to you. You see… I hated myself and somehow I took it out on you.”
“So you don’t really think I’m a slut?”
No, baby, not in a million years. You’re just a normal young woman with normal desires who has a filthy pervert for a father.” Tears streamed down his cheeks as he spoke.
One moment I didn’t know how to make Daddy understand that I forgave him for raping me. In the next instant I did.
I knelt in front of him, undid the button on the pants he’d pulled on while I was unconscious, and let them drop to the floor. Daddy gently grasped my hands and whispered, “No Brittany, no.”
“I want to, Daddy,” I said softly. “And I want you to show me how much you love your little girl.”
He slowly nodded and made no more effort to stop me, so I leaned forward and slid the tip of his dick into my mouth. For a moment I sucked like a shy little girl, unwilling to display my cock-sucking virtuosity for fear of spoiling the tenderness of the moment. Suddenly I realized that events had moved both of us beyond all that. I tipped my head and pulled Daddy to me until his cock slid all the way down my throat.
Daddy groaned as I deep-throated him. He grasped the back of my head gently and began face-fucking me. I broke free from his grip and began to alternate between licking and kissing his cock and taking it all the way down my throat. My right hand followed my mouth up and down his shaft while my left hand gently squeezed his balls.
“Ohhhhh . . . ” Daddy moaned. His entire body began to shake and I knew he was about to come. I was tempted to let Daddy come in my mouth and to swallow every drop, but my wicked mind had something much better in store for him.
I stopped sucking and led Daddy back to my bed. He eagerly pushed me down on my back and positioned himself between his legs with his dick in his hand. “No, no” I protested softly.
Daddy looked crushed, “Oh, honey, I thought you wanted me to.”
“I do,” I explained, but you’ve already given me so many fantastic orgasms. Now I want to give you an extra-special treat. Trust me and trade places.”
When Daddy was on his back, I straddled him reverse cowgirl fashion and I guided his cock into my warm, wet pussy. Daddy loved watching my big tits jiggle and bounce as I rode him, and I was entranced watching his cock slide in and out of me. Alternating between a quick rhythm and a slow, sensuous, grinding motion, I brought Daddy to the brink of ecstasy, stopped at the last moment before he came and then rode him to another peak.
When at last he begged me to let him come, I rolled onto my back and guided his cock between my DDDs. I tried to press my breasts together around Daddy’s cock but his strong hands pushed mine aside so he could gently squeeze my breasts and tweak my nipples as he titty-fucked me. Just from the way he looked at my boobs, I knew he would love fucking them, and I was right. To be completely honest, I knew that I would love it too. Within just two or three minutes, Daddy and I were both screaming in ecstasy as we approached volcanic orgasms.
“In my face, Daddy!” I shrieked as he began to tremble uncontrollably. “Give me a facial!”
The words were scarcely out of my mouth when Daddy erupted again and again, spasmodically shooting his load across my tits, my neck, and my face.
Daddy watched in amazement as I massaged his love cream into my breasts and my face, stopping occasionally to lick every remaining droplet from his cock.
“I love your come, Daddy,” I cooed.
“I only wish I had some more to give you,” he replied softly.
“You will have more soon,” I said. “Again and again and again.”
As we drifted off to sl**p, wrapped in each other’s arms, I suddenly remembered that I had completely missed Caroline’s Halloween party. I didn’t care in the slightest. Let her have all the studs she wanted. I had my Daddy back!