It's not that I always wanted to fuck my father, but for the past couple of months it has been all I could think about. I watched him daily; apparently my mother and him were not on good terms as of late. She would still cook dinner, respond appropriately to him, but I saw no affection between them. This made Daddy irritated. He always had a look of frustration on his face. Especially, when he tried to touch Mom and she pulled away from him. At first, I felt bad for him, but then my thoughts went darker. The need to make Daddy happy again grew. All I could think about was offering myself to him, letting him fuck me anyway he wanted. He picked up on my wants quickly. His stares got longer. His hugs got tighter, pulling me into him so hard I could feel his manhood on my belly. His kisses became more gentle and longer, more the way a lover would kiss.
At first, I could hold myself off by lightly brushing against him or by having my hand drop and touch his hardness after he got done hugging me. But then I noticed his sighs, his looks of longing, and my need to satisfy him started growing stronger. I began coming into any room he was sitting in; I would sit on his lap. Making sure my skirt was always short enough that my bare skin would touch him. I hoped he could feel my need for him. I would hug him around the neck and ask him about his day as I so very slowly moved my hips in circles. He would get this beautiful look of confusion and want on his face as he tried to speak to me normally. We would always be rudely interrupted by my mother asking things like, "why are you on his lap? Aren't you a little old for that?" I would turn and stare at her, never stopping my hips as I looked at her, daring her to do something more than bitch. She never would and I would go back to talking to Daddy. He would eventually lift me off of him and I would bounce happily out of the room as his eyes went to the wet spot I would always leave on his pants.
When we were in the car alone was the best. My hand would always rest on his thigh while he was driving. Sometimes, I would risk it and let my fingers brush against him. He never stopped me. He allowed it to happen. He would at times move himself in his seat so that I could feel him better. I would watch his face and smile. He would glance at me from time to time but do nothing more, that look of confusion and want always there.
I thought that I had him one day. I was in the kitchen, standing on a bar stool trying to reach a box that had fallen towards the back of the pantry. When I heard him entering, I stuck my ass out further, knowing that my skirt was short enough that he could definitely see my butt cheeks. As he walked closer, I jutted my hips out more hoping that he could get a peak of everything else I had to offer. He came up to me and put his hands on my hips, "what are you doing, girl?"
"I can't reach Daddy." I made a display of trying to get the box, my hips going towards him more; if he bent down just a little his face would be exactly where I wanted him. He didn't do it. He lifted me off the stool, pressing my body against his as he slid me back to the ground. My skirt came up completely to rest at my waist. I sighed as I kept myself on my tiptoes so that his hardness rested against my butt. He didn't move me. I wanted to look at him but also feared that if I looked he would move away. I felt his hips move against me. My breath quickened, "oh Daddy." My voice was low and airy with my need for him. I heard him breathe in deeply then heard the front door open and my mother walked in. He moved back and I turned around, smoothing my skirt down, I stared at him with hunger, my face showing exactly what I wanted. He cleared his throat and started to walk away. I reached out and ran my hand against him, still staring at him. Now it was his turn to look at me hungrily. He sighed deeply and shook his head before he walked out of the kitchen.
I waited that night. I hoped that my bedroom door would open and Daddy would walk in after Mom had gone to sleep but it didn't happen. I waited most nights, listening for the door until I fell asleep.
A couple of weeks after the kitchen incident, Daddy called me into the living room. He hadn't been avoiding me altogether, but he had made it more difficult for me to get to him. This didn't stop me from showing him what I wanted from him. Any chance I got I still rubbed against him with my body or hands, or showed him myself by bending over so my skirt would come up, or bending down so that my shirt would pull away and reveal my breasts. He always looked; he always allowed me to touch.
When I came into the living room, I sat at his feet. He looked down at me, shaking his head, having expected that I would sit on the couch. I put my head in his lap and closed my eyes as I felt his hand come to my head and pet my hair. He cleared his throat, "Honey."
"Yes Daddy?" I looked up at him, first taking note of the bulge in his pants. It wasn't as big as normal; I would fix that.
"You know we can't."
I looked at him quizzically, bringing my hand to his inner thigh. He sighed but allowed my hand to stay.
"Can't what Daddy?"
I moved my fingers brushing against his semi-hardness. He took another deep breath and stared down at me for a while, allowing my fingers to play on him. I continued to stare up at him with wide eyes.
"You know, we can't do it."
I found it funny that he wouldn't say the words. I smiled and pressed my palm onto him, rubbing his growing member harder.
"Do what, Daddy?"
"Jesus, girl."
He moved, bending his body towards mine, his face close, but he never moved my hand, "we can't have sex."
I moved quickly, bringing my lips to his kissing him hard, as my hands went to his shoulders and pushed him back. I was straddling him within seconds. I quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, freeing his cock. I sat down on the shaft and rubbed myself against him. His hands came down to my hips and he tried to lift me off of him, but I clamped my thighs down and shook my head, "do you feel that Daddy? Do you feel how wet you make me?"
He stared at me saying nothing but his hands began to help my hips rock back and forth.
"I want you Daddy. "
He sighed and shook his head, "we can't."
"We can do anything we want. I want to take care of you Daddy. I want you to come for me. I want you to be happy."
"If you're mother..."
"My mother doesn't matter. Does she take care of you? I don't think so. Let me."
I sat up a little and slipped the tip of his cock into me. We both sighed. He began to push my hips down, sending more of his cock into me when we heard the garage door open. I dropped my hips down quickly, taking all of him into me for a second and slowly pulled back up, "darn..." I hopped off, bent down and licked the tip of his cock and walked out of the room.
That night I waited. My ears strained to hear the goings on of the house being closed up for the night. I thought for sure that Daddy would come to me after mom had gone to sleep. I gave up after an hour and started drifting off to sleep, sad that he hadn't come in to complete what we started that afternoon.
Daddy started to try and avoid me, but I wouldn't let it happen. I would always find a way to get close to him, to somehow show him what I wanted. One morning, I walked into the bathroom while he was showering and sat on the stool, waiting for him to get out. He looked so surprised when he saw me sitting there that I laughed.
"Sorry to scare you Daddy, but we have unfinished business."
"I told you no."
"You said we couldn't, but you didn't say you didn't want to."
I moved from where and came to my knees at his feet. I looked up at him and swirled my tongue around his soft penis. I smiled when I felt it jump.
