Sharing Marie With Her Dad

I.

"I'm just going to come out with it," I said, leaning back on my couch. "I'm absolutely crazy about you."

"I know," Marie replied seriously, unsmiling, suddenly seeming much more sober than she had moments ago.

That's not the response I had been hoping to hear, but everything about my friendship with Marie had been confounding.

I'd been pining for her since the very first time we met. I was at a friend's birthday celebration when I saw her walk in. What first grabbed my attention was her face: gorgeous dark eyes, pink lips pulled into a beautiful smile, straight black hair, and fair skin. My eyes moved down her short, thin body, taking note of what looked like large breasts hidden under a tight sweater. I was smitten immediately.

I talked to her as much as I could that night. She was smart and clever, and while I realized that her interests tended to run nerdier than mine, I wished I could have stayed up all night talking with her. I was too chicken to ask her out the first night, but when I saw her at a party a week later and we found ourselves chatting again, I forced myself to do it.

"Sorry. I'm just not looking to date someone right now," she replied.

"Oh. Right." I was a little crushed and a little panicked that my dream girl was slipping away. "Well, maybe we could just hang out as friends? Study together?"

She seemed to perk up at the idea. "I could always use a study buddy," she said, smiling.

And that's what I became. It turns out that my nerdy Marie had weird sleeping habits, so two or three times per week, I would meet her around 10 pm in the dreary basement lounge of the college's chemistry building. We'd spend an hour or so actually reading our respective textbooks, but then we'd get to talking: about TV and music and our classes and our friends, but also about weightier topics, like her experience losing her mom to cancer. Before we knew it, it would be 3 am, and I'd walk Marie back to her dorm.

After a few months of this, Marie started coming over to my apartment once a week to watch a TV show--as much as she loved television, she didn't have cable. Sometimes I'd make her dinner, and some nights I'd make us drinks.

This was one of those nights. I'd maybe had one too many, and I couldn't stop myself from telling Marie how I still felt about her.

"I know how you feel about me, Jon. I mean, how much time you spend with me, the way you look at me, of course I can tell," she said.

"But you're not interested."

"No, it's not that! I'd love to be with you. But I can't."

"Why?" I asked. "With all the time we spend together, I can't imagine there's another guy..."

"No," Marie said. "There are just things...about me...that...wouldn't make me a good girlfriend."

"Well that's a problem, because I can't imagine anyone else in the world being my girlfriend," I said. Feeling bold, I put my hand on her thigh.

"I'm serious," she said, but she didn't move my hand.

"So am I. Whatever it is that you think makes you undatable, believe me, we can make it work."

Marie didn't say anything. She bit her lip. She seemed to be thinking. Then she gave just the slightest of nods. Within a second, I was leaning down, pressing my lips to hers. Months of pent-up desire poured out of me as I pulled her body to mine. I think I groaned into her mouth.

I led her into the bedroom, where I quickly undid her jeans and pushed them down her narrow hips and thighs. As she stepped out of them, I lifted her shirt up and then pushed her down on the edge of the bed. She lay back, and it was the most exciting thing I'd ever seen: my beautiful Marie, in just a bra and cotton panties, spreading her legs for me.

In a blur I was on top of her, kissing her pretty mouth, and together we pulled off my own clothes. Now naked, I ground my hard cock against her panty-covered pussy as we made out, my tongue entwined with hers. I longed to see and feel her fully naked, and when my excited hands struggled to undo her bra, she smiled and reached back, elegantly unclasping it.

Her breasts were every bit as spectacular as I'd imagined them, round and perky and topped with two dark, hard nipples. I kissed the soft skin of each breast before taking a nipple into my mouth, teasing the tip with my tongue as my lips lightly pressed the base. Marie moaned, and I felt myself grow harder.

As I suckled her breast, my hand slid under the waistband of her panties, cupping her warm pussy. I ran the tip of my finger between her lips, feeling the wetness. Then I found Marie's clitoris. She moaned again and lifted her hips, reaching down to slide her panties down her legs. My sweet Marie was now naked and spread wide for me.

My fingers explored her, teasing her little clit and then sliding inside her. Her pussy was warm and wet and tight, and each time I thrust my fingers inside her, Marie let out a moan.

"Marie, can I fuck you?" I asked.

She nodded, so I got up form the bed and got a condom, rolling it onto my hard, aching cock. I kneeled between her thighs, rubbing the swollen cockhead against her slit. Then I grabbed her hips and slowly forced myself inside her.

At that point in my life, I'd been with a few girls, including one or two who I had really loved. But what I felt with Marie was unlike anything I'd felt in my life. The girl I'd be thinking about constantly for months, pining for with (what I thought was) unrequited love, was giving herself to me, letting me take her inch by slow inch. I knew I wouldn't last long.

The many, many times I'd fantasized about making love to Marie, I imagined her as shy and innocent, maybe even virginal. But now that we were in the act, she was assertive: her fingers dug into my shoulder blades, her legs wrapped around my back, her hips thrusted to meet mine. She was pulling me deeper into her. "Mmm feels so good, Jon," she moaned.

We found our rhythm and moved together for maybe five minutes. I could feel my balls tighten and I knew I was about to cum. "I'm close," I groaned and involuntarily thrusted harder and faster. I grabbed Marie's hips and forcefully pulled her to me as I thrust one last time, so hard I was sure my cock would rip through the condom. I felt myself release.

"That was amazing," Marie said as we calmed down. I went to get rid of the condom (unripped) and then climbed back in bed with her.

As we cuddled together in bed, I told her, "This has been the best night of my life. I can't believe this is real."

"Mmm," she replied. as she rested her head against my chest. We drifted off to sleep.

II.

Everything went great with Marie. We grew closer--practically inseparable--and the sex was frequent and amazing. Whatever it was that she had thought would be an obstacle to our relationship never manifested itself. Until one night, about two months after we first got together.

We'd both had way too much to drink at a house party. After we staggered back to my apartment, we fooled around on the couch, but I was too drunk to get hard. Marie stumbled into the bathroom while I went to lie down in the bed. I was messing with my phone, trying to stay awake until Marie came to bed, when I received a text from her. Strange.

I clicked to open it and was shocked by what I saw: a slightly blurry photo of her pussy and the message "Moss u, daddy." It was weird. In our two months together, she'd never sent me a nude or called me daddy. On the other hand, I'd never seen her this drunk, so maybe it was a new side of her?

When she came into the bedroom a minute later, she didn't seem like she was trying to seduce me. "So so, sleepy," she slurred as she fell into the bed. She slipped under the covers and soon was dead to the world. I was lying in the bed, confused. I'd never doubted her faithfulness for a second, but was she sexting someone else? Some older guy she called daddy?

I lifted myself out of bed to turn off the bedroom light when I had a bad, alcohol-fueled thought. Her phone. I should check her phone. I knew it was unlocked, but I'd never looked at it. I trusted her--until now.

I found her phone in the bathroom, where she'd forgotten it. I swiped open and immediately opened her text messages. The list of people she'd written to seemed innocuous: me, her dad, some friends of hers I knew. There was one guy's name I didn't recognize--Ben--but when I opened the message, it was just a conversation about an upcoming exam.

I looked in her camera roll, and that's where I found the first surprise. Scattered among innocent photos were nudes: close-ups of her pussy, ass, and breasts, waist-up nudes taken in my bathroom mirror. Who was she taking these for? Just herself? But then who was daddy?

I decided to look in her saved media folder, to see if maybe she's received any nudes. In a video folder, I received the second bigger surprise. The file names were generic, but when I clicked on the first, it showed sex. Filmed from above, it showed a woman's--Marie's, I recognized instantly--lower stomach, pubic mound, and pussy while she was getting fucked. The man had graying pubic hair, and I thought I also noticed a bit of a paunch in some frames. This must be the mysterious daddy.

I opened the next video. It seemed to be filmed by Marie as she rode her lover. The video tilted up from his belly to his chest, covered in gray hair. Finally, it showed his face, and I recognized him instantly. I'd seen him in a hundred Facebook photos. It was her dad. Marie was fucking her father.

I went back and open her text conversation with her dad. Intermingled with the normal things a college girl and her father might write to each other--messages about tuition payments and exams and staying safe when she goes out at night--were others.

"Daddy, I can't wait till I'm back home in ur bed."

"Just lying in bed, thinking of you, baby girl."

"No daddy, don't be silly, just because I have a bf now doesn't mean I don't want u ;)"

There were also nudes. Marie had sent every dirty photo I'd found in her camera roll to her dad, and each one was greeted by her father with horny appreciation.

I closed the apps on her phone and took it to the bedroom. If my quest for the truth had made me feel like I was sobering up, finding the truth made my head spin worse than ever. I lay down on the very edge of the bed, a few feet from Marie. Eventually, the alcohol won the fight, and I fell asleep.

III.

I woke up with a headache and the light streaming through the window. It took me a second to get my bearings, and then I remembered the night before. That must have been some alcohol-fueled dream, right? No way that was real. But I needed to know.

Marie looked sound asleep, so I picked up her phone and took it to my living room. I sat down on the couch and, with trembling hands, opened the phone again. I navigated to the video folder--it was there, I hadn't imagined it--and opened up another video. It showed Marie, her head tilted back, the muscles in her neck flexing, her eyes clamed closed, and a wicked smile on her face. I'd seen it many times as we'd made love. I saw her lips move, so I turned on the sound and replayed it.

"God daddy, that feels so good." I heard the wet, slapping sound of father's cock sliding in and out of daughter's pussy.

The next video was filmed by Marie, and it showed her flat stomach and spread legs. Her dad, unmistakably her dad, was between her legs, kissing her thighs. He ducked his head down to lick my girlfriend's pussy. His daughter's pussy. On the video, I could hear Marie start to moan and roll her hips, giving herself over to her dad. I was transfixed.

"What are you--" I heard behind me. We both jumped in shock. I was so focused on the videos, I hadn't heard Marie get out of bed or approach me.

"Is that...?" she said. "Oh my god." She could see exactly what I was watching. She ran into the bedroom. I could hear crying, but I didn't know what to say or do. A minute later, she came storming out, her face streaked with tears. She moved quickly towards the door.

"Wait," I said.

"No, I've got to get out of here," she yelled. And then she was gone, and I was alone.