My Father My Husband

If you like this, I just finished the sequel - however it's a standalone sci-fi story, told from a third party's perspective, and it doesn't mention the blood relationship in this story. For these reasons I'm submitting it to a different section and not as a chapter or sequel, so the only way you'll know about it is me telling you here. It's called The Transplant, just look for it in my stories if you want to read it.

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It was one of those gorgeous, lazy summer days. Plenty warm but not hot, and thankfully not humid -- I can't stand that sticky weather we always seem to get east of the Rockies this time of year. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves on the numerous trees in my dad's expansive, upscale suburban neighborhood. An occasional cicada could be heard buzzing in the distance. It was the perfect day to enact the plan which I'd hatched last summer.

My dad's place is beautiful, a giant home in the Tudor style. Bigger and nicer than a McMansion, but perhaps not what you'd call a true mansion, at least not in the Rockefeller sense. It's nestled in the foothills of a small mountain range, with a view of the valley below to die for. Parcels of land here are several acres at the least, although my dad is well-to-do even for this area and so his home sits in the middle of almost 10 acres, giving us plenty of privacy. The driveway is really long, with well-manicured evergreen bushes and solar-powered lights lining its entire length.

It was around 6pm, I was sipping a salt-rimmed margarita and laying by the pool. My bikini, a unique shade of teal, a bit heavier on the green than the blue and made of an iridescent material, was barely there. If there were any less material I might as well be nude. The top is string so thin you can barely see it, supporting a pair of triangles barely big enough to cover my nipples. My areolae are normal size and dark, reflecting my Mediterranean heritage. The nipples themselves are huge, and the thin material does nothing to hide them even if they're soft. When they're erect they poke out nearly an inch - and they usually are, since I'm such a horny little slut. I'm a spectacle at any beach or pool I go to. I don't mind the stares, looking good feels good. I've been careful not to let my father see me in it, but not for the reason one would assume.

The bikini's bottom is a thong both in front and in back, made of the same thin string, with just a thin slip of material to cover my pussy. It would never work with any hair, but that's not an issue since I had it all removed with electrolysis. My snatch is big and loose for reasons I'll get into, and it looks even bigger on my tiny frame. And with only the bottom's minuscule piece of delicate cloth to cover it, it looks positively lewd -- you can see the outline easily, and in detail. I have to be careful or a lip will slip out sometimes. I'm not from the middle east, but I know a thing or two about camel toes.

Dad had only ever seen me in normal swimwear. And he saw me in that a lot, summer is hot and it's awfully hard to resist swimming in a huge in-ground asymmetric pool. With three diving boards of different heights, a waterslide, and a small manmade cliff to jump from, it defines opulence. It also has several islands containing sculpted hedges, connected by stone bridges to swim under (or walk over, depending on whether one was in the pool or not), and various nooks and corners to explore and frolic in. In the summer when it's hot and I'm home from college, my father and I swim together pretty much every day.

At 4'10" and 90lb., you might think I have a boyish figure, but that's not the case. My hips flare out nicely, curving around back into my perfect butt. My tits are big for my frame, perfectly shaped with perky, slightly upturned nipples, and C-cup in size. My thick dark brown hair, slightly wavy with natural reddish highlights, is cut in a bob which complements my face. The bob cut is my mother's influence, she's gorgeous and I look a lot like her. Copying her beautiful hairstyle was a no-brainer, I'd had it cut this way since I was 13. Though to be honest, any haircut short of a mohawk or crewcut would work well for me (and even those would work, if I waned to attract lesbian women). I'm truly blessed with good looks, and I don't take it for granted.

My first semester at college had been eye-opening. It had opened my legs and twat as well... I'd been sheltered in high school and remained a virgin, but at college I fucked several dozen guys in those first few months. It had been easy enough to lose count of the dozens and dozens of guys, given the amount of alcohol I drank every weekend and the fact that some encounters had been guys running trains on me, just one after another in my pussy. If any guy ever took out a condom, I instructed him to put it away - and if he opened it, I told him to throw it out or he couldn't fuck me. Unsurprisingly, not one guy ever argued about this. I had two abortions that semester before finally going on the pill.

The second semester was even better. A few weeks in, I had a gangbang with some older and more experienced frat guys who had DPed and even went airtight with me -- that was the night I discovered my love of DP and anal, and my natural talent for deep throating. Apparently most women have a gag reflex, but I love taking cock and cum so much that it overrides that natural reaction.

I had fucked guys of every skin tone, believing naively at first that stereotypes were nonsense. But as I gained more & more experience I couldn't help but notice that black guys are bigger on average. Not that they all have a baseball bat for a cock -- but the guys who do are invariably black. It wasn't long before I had developed a preference for huge cocks. From virgin to size queen in barely over six months, at the age of 18! I smiled to myself, perfectly happy with who I am: a slut.

Last summer, after my first full year at university, I had been staying with my dad. Mom's place is out west in California, a long plane ride I'd rather not take, and not only because I hate flying. We don't get along, the rivalry is ever-present. I look as good as she used to, and she isn't able or willing to conceal her envy or, y'know, just be happy for me? It's impossible to be near her, every word from her mouth is toxic, her tongue poisonous. Meanwhile dad and I have always gotten along easily, always very comfortable, friendly, and affectionate toward one another.

One day that fateful summer I had to pee and went to the bathroom, as one does. I didn't realize my dad had been taking a shower and had just gotten out. Upon opening the door I saw the biggest penis I'd ever seen, and I've probably seen a couple hundred in person, and more in porn. It was bigger than anything I'd ever even fantasized about. And he was soft! He gasped and quickly covered it with the towel he'd been drying off with, but I could never un-see something like that. Holy shit!

For the past year I've been completely obsessed with it. And it's not like his ballistic missile is all my father has going for him - he's a complete and total silver fox. A hale & hearty 50, salt & pepper hair, a bit tall but nothing goony, athletic and muscular, a bit of middle age dad-bod creeping in. Not to mention a very handsome face, I don't get it all from mom heh. He looks like a cross between George Clooney and Mr. Piederman (Elaine Benes' boss in Seinfeld), and he's in his prime.

I've noticed that the skinny guys tend to be showers; when they get a boner, it just pokes up in the air, but doesn't grow much. Meanwhile guys with bodies like dad's tend to be growers. Given how huge it was soft, this line of thinking has occupied countless hours of my time. I masturbate often, usually with big dildos, always imagining it's Daddy fucking me, always wondering just how much it grows when he gets hard. I've even had a few gangbangs where I mentally zoned out and imagined one of the larger guys was my dad. For their part, the guys always go wild when I have a massive orgasm from a gangbang, it's the ultimate fantasy for them. Little did they know it was because I was imagining a man who wasn't even there, and that it was one of the ultimate taboos -- my own father and his wondrous wang.

Speaking of those gangbangs, I started doing double vaginal and double anal my sophomore year. At first I had to beg for it, which turned the guys on like feminists finding a sale on snack cakes. Eventually they got the hint that this slut likes that stuff. Many of them were regulars, and would inform any newbies of what this little minx wanted. Imagine if any of them realized I was doing it to acclimate my holes for my dad's terrifying todger!

The double penetrations in the same hole had the biggest effect on how my body looked. This was when my asshole started looking big and loose, like a true brown starfish, not the baby starfish most people have. Like what a horse's asshole looks like -- we have three by the way, the stable is in the northeast corner of the property. It's also when when my pussy developed a permanent gape, the lips becoming bigger and darker. Now they hang down prominently, belying the fact I'm a true slut. As Borat said, "Like sleeve of wizard." Given how svelte I am I have a total thigh gap, so you can see everything if I'm standing, and there's a lot to see.

But I knew dad was long, and I hated how some of the longer guys at my gangbangs couldn't fit all the way in my pussy. My ass and throat, absolutely, but a true whore should be able to take every inch a guy can give her, in every hole. So my longer dildos have gotten a lot of use in the past year as I've trained for Daddy. It's amazing how deep a vagina can go with some work put into it. A lot of people think it's bullshit, but they haven't seen camgirls like LiliJuneX and EtherealFaun. I hadn't neglected my throat either, and while I wasn't sure how thick dad was erect, I figured I'd be able to take him all the way down my gullet as well.

I thought about all the times I'd had to wear a tampon for days. Not for period blood - the pill stopped those annoying visits from Aunt Flo. Rather, for all the cum leaking from my womb. It turned me on just thinking about it, and my nipples got hard. And just in time - I could hear Dad's Range Rover pull into the circular driveway in front of the manse. I couldn't see him, of course, since the pool is in back. But I heard him call my name -- Sarah - and I yelled back an invitation for him to join me in the pool.

My nipples stayed hard as I thought about the plan, and it wasn't long before he emerged from the poolhouse. He'd only had to change into his swimsuit and pour himself a drink, a single malt scotch, neat save for a few drops of water. It's his favorite, as margaritas are mine.

And of course, there was the Towel. After that fateful day when I saw him getting out of the shower, he always wore a towel around his waist when he came out to the pool to swim with me, taking it off only at the last minute as he slipped into the water, leaving it as a puddle of cloth at the rim of the pool. I have no idea who he thinks he's fooling. I saw him buck naked after all, does he think I forgot?

I had never noticed it as a teenager, despite the fact no clothing could ever hope to truly conceal it. It's just that I was so naive and sheltered, and he's a good man who never once was inappropriate with me. But now, after all my experience, given how horny I am and how much I'm into big cocks? Lol, imagine a feminist trying to hide the fact she's fat. That's my dad trying to hide his one-in-a-million dingus using only a towel. Houdini would have told him not to bother, that it's impossible.

"Love ya, pumpkin!" he called when he was close enough to not have to scream.

"You too Daddy!" I returned.

As he approached the lounge chairs I got up, giving him an eyeful. To his credit, while his eyes did take me in, he didn't linger on anything. Not my tits and erect, barely-covered nipples, and not my loose, flappy hooha under a piece of cloth that was far too small and flimsy to do the job being asked of it. We embraced, and as always it was awkward because of the towel, and because he would always turn to the side so that his massive member wouldn't touch me. As if I didn't know! I laughed out loud at the thought of it.

"What's so funny?" he asked me.

"Just a joke I heard," I lied. I couldn't tell him I was laughing at his attempt to do the impossible and hide his endowment from me, he'd be too chagrined. "What's brown and rhymes with snoop?" Before he could guess, I told him the punchline -- "Dr. Dre!" He snickered, mirth written all over his handsome face.

"New bikini?" he asked, eyeing me curiously.

"Yeah, whatcha think?"

"Is that dental floss?" was all he could come up with. I could see the outline of his willy through the towel, one couldn't conceal something that big, only mask its particulars. This was nothing new, it had been this way all this summer and the last, ever since that day in the bathroom. But something was definitely happening. He wasn't erect, but he certainly wasn't fully flaccid either. I'd seen it under the towel enough when I was wearing normal swimsuits to know my new bikini was having the effect on him I'd hoped for.

"Doesn't leave much to the imagination..." he continued, one eyebrow raised. His eyes left mine and traveled briefly down to my pussy and I actually saw his dick twitch. He seemed to be having some internal conflict, wanting to look but trying to control himself, and only halfway succeeding. It was working!

In the back of my mind, I'd always worried that the plan might get stopped in its tracks if he simply couldn't view me as anything but his baby girl, that all of my preparations could be for naught. But I always told myself he's such a fun-loving, easy-going guy that it would probably work. Still, seeing the effect I was having on him helped a lot to quell my fears.

He turned around awkwardly and walked to his chair, sitting down while bunching the towel material up on his crotch. It was piled on top of so much flesh that if anything, it called even more attention to his bulge than if he hadn't made the effort to begin with. I giggled at his futile attempt to hide Mt. Cockerest and he seized the opportunity to talk about anything else: "Think of another joke?" he wondered.

"What does a Polish woman get on her wedding night that's long and hard?" Because of the innuendo I let this one hang in the air a moment, but when I could tell he was uncomfortable I answered: "A new last name!" He guffawed, clearly as relieved as he was amused.

"Why do elephants have four feet?" I asked. I loved seeing him smile and laugh, and wanted to tell him another dick joke as well -- two birds, one stone. His eyebrows raised, asking wordlessly for the punchline. "Because six inches wouldn't be enough!"

I started to realize I'd have to walk on eggshells, this wasn't really a part of the plan. In many of my fantasies he ripped the bikini off and ravished me. But fantasy and reality are two different things (and at $780, I'm glad he didn't rip the bikini -- amazing how so little cloth can cost so much). In truth he was remarkably awkward about this. A boardroom barbarian to such an extent he was a mega-millionaire, and yet shy like a teenage boy when his baby girl's sexuality was on display. To be fair, at 20 years old I was not his baby girl anymore, but dads can have a hard time letting go.

"How about we watch a movie?" I suggested. He agreed hastily, clearly keen on the idea of getting out of his bathing suit and into more concealing clothing. We headed inside and I grabbed the Girl Scout Cookies where I had it stashed in my room. Not actual cookies, mind you -- this is a strain of really good weed. I'd taken a few hits before my last gangbang a month back before the spring semester ended, and that was one of the few times I orgasmed during a gangbang that year without daydreaming about dilating on Dad's deadly dong.

I made my way past the main living room, a huge ornate affair with full-wall windows, a high raftered ceiling, and a giant fireplace. At the far end of the room an ornate spiral staircase leads up to the second and third floors. The room is decorated with assorted historical artifacts like Ming vases and real paintings by masters, not the prints that poor people have to settle for. Ironically we never use it, preferring one of the smaller, more intimate living rooms since it's closer to the kitchen, bedrooms, and a nearby bathroom. Practicality over pomp, even for the super-rich.

Without asking him I put on Black Swan. Like most of my favorite films, it's well-made... but also very sexy. The sex scene with Natalie Portman and Mila Kunis always got me going. I'm not generally into women, but holy shit, when I watch this movie I'd have no problem trying some sapphic action. Especially with some weed to get my juices flowing.

I sat on the loveseat, dad on his recliner. This would not do, so I beckoned him over to me, telling him I felt cold and wanted some warmth. While he wore sweatpants, slippers, and a bathrobe, I had quite intentionally only put on a tiny robe over my bikini. Yes, bathrobes in the summer -- such is the glory of central air conditioning, the setting on which I lowered by two degrees when he wasn't looking, causing my nipples to perk up. Dad hemmed and hawed at this, bullshitting me about how comfy he was in his recliner. But I pouted, and his baby girl got her way. He made his way over and plunked his big manly frame down next to my tiny petite one.

As the film began I took a huge toke and held it in, holding the vape out for Dad, who took his own huge hit like the old pro he is. This wasn't our first time getting high together, but other times when we did I'd slink off to my bedroom to masturbate, usually with a huge dildo. Weed has always made me so, sooo horny, and within a few minutes I was getting wet, as I had known I would. Most people are affected by it in this way, and I sure hoped my father was no exception.

Knowing that I had to be delicate, I started simply enough, leaning to my left against his muscular shoulder. He didn't seem to mind this much. He'd told me that he'd never seen the film, and like me, he likes well-made films so he was quite engrossed. This worked to my advantage, he was so captivated that his sensitivity to my sexuality seemed to be turned down a notch. After a few minutes I put an arm around his neck. He said nothing, and after a minute he even put his arm around me! I could see his dick more prominently under the robe now compared to a few minutes ago. He was definitely noticing and enjoying being so close to me.

"They're both so pretty," I remarked, referring to Portman & Kunis.

"Yeah they're not bad," he replied weakly.

"Not bad?" I questioned, "They're gorgeous! I wish I looked so good..." I trailed off. This was carefully calculated, of course -- while they're both very pretty women, and excellent and accomplished actresses, I'm prettier than both combined. Just being honest, don't hate me for it.

"It's just that your mother is the perfect woman, I've never been more attracted to a woman than to her," came his reply. Unstated was the fact that, while I certainly had some of my dad's genes, I had taken so much after my mother looks-wise. I am essentially a younger version of her, looking almost exactly how she looked when my father had fallen in love with her. I'm not guessing - I've seen a lot of their old pics.

As the film progressed on our huge full-wall TV, I opened my robe slightly, revealing a glimpse of the bikini underneath. A quick crotch check showed one pussy lip protruding past the fabric, about which I did nothing.

He continued "But she just couldn't deal with the fact I need to make money..." he trailed off, leaving the rift between them unsaid. The divorce had been a bit over 2 years ago, but he clearly was still having trouble coping. Mom wanted more of Dad's time (and probably his massive cock), but she also wanted the lifestyle his successful career afforded them -- a career which included a lot of 6-7 day weeks, a lot of 15+ hour days.