I Wanna Go Back Pt. 01

This is only my second story, so please bear with me as I work through my grammatical issues.
This is fiction and all characters engaging in sexual activity are at least 18 years of age. All characters not directly involved in sexual activity are also 18 years of age.
This is the first part of a continuing saga, and though it is written in the first person, again it is a fictional story.
________________
It was an awkward day, alone with my father, running errands without the presence of my sister or my mother. I watched my father pump gas from the passenger side mirror; he seemed off that day, struggling with something I couldn't define. He climbed in, started the car, and pulled out of the gas station. He never spoke, but drove around as if thinking about something specific. She couldn't read him at all.
He parked on Savoy Street, which was located in an undeveloped portion of an older neighborhood not too far from our own home. Savoy dead-ended into a massive wooded area primarily used as a short cut between two busy parallel roads, which basically divide two independent parts of town. Weather permitting, high school kids got high there during the week. Her father turned off the ignition, and I primed myself for a talk about life, boys or possibly drugs.
My father stared at me for a moment, and reaching out he swept the back of his hand across my cheek and began stroking my face. After a period of time, how much I don't recall, my father leaned in and kissed me. I did not reciprocate, and though I wasn't upset, I was confused.
When our eyes connected again, I saw a longing in them for the very first time. He sat patiently, and without words reaching for my face again, brushed the back of his hand against my cheek. He began petting my dark blonde hair and tilting my chin up, ran his thumb gently over my lips. He slipped his hand around the back of my neck, his palm resting gently beneath my hairline; he gently brought me forward, and pressed our lips together.
With the second kiss I gradually began reciprocating. My mouth opening a bit more, he slid his tongue between my lips brushing into it my mouth, luring my tongue. I began kissing him without reservation, our tongues dancing together; I let out a low breathy sigh in his mouth.
His right palm still behind my neck, it rose higher on my neck so his hand was supporting my head. Slowly unbuttoning my blouse with his left hand, he freed the last button, and I exhaled as my blouse parted. My father began moving his palm down my neck, his thumb tracing my throat until his palm was at my shoulder. Our lips broke and he pressed his forehead to mine, "Baby girl." We sat for a moment.
With our foreheads together he continued moving his palm down, brushing past my left breast as he reached to unsnap my bra. The clasp free, "Daddy," I cried out softly. His hand drifted beneath my bra, his eyes widening as he ran his hand over each of my breasts, feeling the size and the firmness. He murmured "Sweetheart," as he pushed the silky blue blouse from my shoulders. It slipped away like liquid, and puddled on the leather seat.
My father brought both hands to my face, his right thumb beneath my jaw; he tilted my face up as I closed my eyes. "Look at me baby," He met my eyes and they locked on one another. He kissed me again, much hungrier than before. Our mouths still clinging to one another he paused "I want to see you, honey."
Understanding his request and slipped my bra forward to expose my breasts. He looked at my breasts, then in my eyes, and again my breasts. "You're beautiful baby." He smiled and our mouths joined.
I should've known then that we'd become lovers, but truly I didn't know. I wasn't sure of anything, except how physically good it felt to kiss my father and to expose myself to him. For the first time I realized I wanted him.
My father gently pulled away from my mouth, as if coming out of a trance. It was daylight, and we weren't being cautious for a Saturday afternoon. "Baby put your blouse on, we should go."
I put myself together and we drove to my grandmother's house, which was our original destination that Saturday. We didn't speak on the way, but provided each other accepting smiles with no hint of regret.
We dropped off some items my father procured for her earlier in the week, and we chatted with my grandmother though I was unusually silent. My father seemed comfortable speaking with his mother, periodically glancing at me. We departed my grandmother's house and took the back way home. Halfway back my father pulled off and kissed me sweetly on the mouth, and again rubbed van escort his thumb over my lips. "You're my girl."
We arrived home and went about our business normally. But nothing was normal now, there was tension. Everything had shifted.
The senior building stood alone, isolated on the campus of my high school. It was a month to graduation and everyone was happy. That Monday, a boy I dated the previous year walked up to me at my locker and whispered "I saw you Saturday. I saw you with your daddy." I looked up in horror, but Ken smiled knowingly, then nodded and disappeared down the crowded hallway. My legs wobbled and I could feel heat surging to my cheeks, I must've been bright red. I stood facing my locker in shame, waiting to regain my composure. I couldn't deny it, Ken knew my family, and he knew my father.
Before the week was out the entire senior class knew exactly what Ken saw from the woods that day, and it was assumed I was fucking my father. Some of my male classmates gestured the fucking symbol at me, creating a circular shape with fingers from one hand and poking in and out of the circle with another finger, mimicking screwing. Of course, they mouthed the word daddy and laughed.
A boy who sat behind me in college prep Calculus tipped his desk forward, and balancing on its front legs, perched his mouth at my ear and whispered, "I hear you fuck your daddy," he snickered then whispering, "fuck me daddy, fuck me," snickered again.
I left school after that class. I couldn't face any more harassment without crying. I'd taken abuse the entire week without cracking, and by Friday I was done. As I reached the house, I saw my father's car in the driveway. Checking the clock on the microwave it was 2:00 when I walked in the backdoor.
My father appeared "What are you doing home?"
Seconds away from a complete teenage meltdown, I began to crying. My father moved to me and I fell into his arms. He walked me to the living room and sat me down on the sofa. He took a seat next to me and hugged me as I cried. I told him that Ken saw us last Saturday and explained how it was all around school. He reassured me that it was nothing to worry about, and with graduation a month away it'll die down. He held me for a while and I calmed down. And though it didn't erase the week of harassment, he was right. Graduation is a month away.
He brought my face to his and kissed me, but it wasn't a father's kiss; it was a lover's kiss. "Don't worry baby, everything will be fine."
Later I wondered if my father struggled in choosing what type of kiss to give me as he comforted me. The next day, I realized it was the right choice. He acknowledged his feelings for me, and didn't falsely pretend to be only a father.
My mother and sister were going on a mini-trip that weekend for my sisters dance class. I cancelled my Friday night plans, knowing I'd just be harassed anyway. I skipped dinner with the excuse of a stomach ache, and confined myself to my bedroom. And with the exception of a long bath and a 10:00 PM rerun of Miami Vice, all was quiet.
I slept well that night, but I always sleep well after a hard cry and a long bath. By the time I woke, my sister and my mother had already left. It was just me and my father in the house. Naked and snug in my bed I wondered if he'd come to me. In my heart I wanted him to.
At 11:00 AM he gradually opened my bedroom door. My father appeared, leaning on the door frame as I propped up on my elbows. He was barefoot, wearing a pair of loose dark denim, and a tight black t-shirt. "Can I come in baby?"
"Yes."
He sat down on the edge of my bed, looked me in the eyes then down at the comforter covering my body. "Can I get in your bed?" I nodded yes. He climbed in my bed and propped his head up smiling at me. I smiled back, but feeling a little awkward dipped my chin.
He pulled my chin up and pressed his mouth against mine. I didn't waver; I wanted to kiss him and returned his affection immediately. In no time our tongues were darting in and out of each other's mouth, dancing together again. When we broke my father looked into my eyes and stroked my face. "You know why I'm here baby, don't you?"
"I think so." It was the moment I knew we were going to make love.
He reached beneath the comforter to feel my right breast. He petted it, squeezed it and again rubbed his thumb over the nipple. He pulled the comforter down and uncovered my breasts and my stomach.
He looked at me with such intensity, his eyes honed in and his mouth approached my breast; he was quickly tonguing and sucking my right nipple, he looked van escort bayan up and smiled then directly back to my breast. Adjusting my body flat to the bed, he had complete access to both my breasts and began manipulating them both. Kneading one breast as he sucked the other, then smashing them together ran his tongue repetitively over both nipples.
The physical sensation of my father's hands and mouth on my breasts was wonderful, but combined with my observational perspective, which is to say that watching my father sucking, tonguing and kneading my breasts made it even more arousing. My pussy began to throb.
Withdrawing his mouth from by breast, he sat upright pulling his black t-shirt off over his head. Sliding his right arm underneath my waist, he scooped me up to meet his torso. My breasts against his chest, he pulled back to cup them and feel their weight. He rubbed his thumb over my nipples again, and the areola shrank as the nipple hardened. "God baby, I love your breasts,"
I adored him for saying that. I didn't have small breasts like all my girlfriends who wore A or B cups. I wore a 32D. Yes it's true; I possessed a set of 'old school' juggs at a time when big tits just weren't popular. I'd worked diligently to disguise them, flatten them and make them look smaller. Though my breasts were young and firm, but without support they jiggled, and were pliable.
Kissing me again, he reached beneath the comforter to cup my pussy. It electrified my body, and closing my eyes moaned into his mouth. Dying for him to finger me, he removed his hand and stood to undress.
It was the first time I saw my father naked. He was perfect, slim but muscular, the hair on his chest thick in the center, and then thinned as it flared toward his nipples. Vertically it was the same, hair faintly trailing to his genitals where it was thicker.
His penis was erect, and though I wasn't surprised by the length, I was somewhat shocked by its circumference. His stance encouraged me to take in his 6'3" frame. I examined in his body in the daylight of my bedroom.
"Show me your body, honey," It was a request, but there was a small plea inside of it, as if he'd been dying to see it for so long. I threw back the comforter brazenly baring my body for my father to examine. He looked me over, and his smile broadened, "Oh baby, you're perfect." He climbed back into my bed, and we stretched out our naked bodies together. Pulling me close his manhood pressed hard against me; we kissed like never before, it was lustful and hungry. We devoured each other's mouths.
He slid his hand between my legs and I opened them a little more to give him room between my thighs. I was hot and wanting, boiling between my legs. He began rubbing my outer labia, and then parted my lips with his finger before sliding one inside me.
I opened my legs a bit wider, and scooting my pussy onto his hand, I was half humping his wrist. I was physically begging for more, he inserted a second finger inside me. Full with the second finger I moaned, "Daddy," into his mouth.
Looking down at my wet pussy, "You're soaked little girl," he sped up and began fingering me deeper and harder. I was heading for an orgasm; I'd never climaxed any other way.
"I want you baby. Do you want me?" His whispered words were kind but serious, sexual but parental, and feeling his breath on my neck it made my body surge. I was so close to coming I couldn't speak; I was in a state of vacant desire. He was kissing me, and fingering me, and I was lost in the sensation of both, "I want to fuck you baby. Can daddy to fuck you?"
"Yes daddy, fuck me." With my whispered consent, I felt his penis twitched against my body. It felt good to say it and I repeated it, "Please, fuck me daddy," and his cock twitched again. Pulling his fingers from my saturated hole he brought them to his mouth and licked them and sucked the juice from his fingers, then kissed me again. For the first time I tasted myself, it was sweet almost fruity taste like a peach.
He maneuvered his body above mine, and grabbing onto his cock he rubbed it up and down my crevice. Lined up, he pushed the head inside and stretched my opening. He pulled back pushed in again feeding me the second portion of his manhood.
Gently pumping he tried to get the remainder inside my tight teenage cunt, but it was a struggle. There was a barrier, not one created by my hymen that was already gone. It was a barrier of size; he was larger than any previous lover.
He lowered his body down to his elbows, and my breasts smashed against his chest. Forearms caging my head as escort van his palms wrapped the sides of my face, smoothing back the hair above my temples. "Daddy needs to get all the way in, so I'm going to push real hard sweetheart, okay." I nodded yes, and he kissed me passionately, and then pulling his hips back pushed in hard, thrusting his cock deep inside me. It sent a shockwave through my body. Our faces still together he smiled, "Oh honey, daddy's inside you."
Even though I wasn't a virgin, it was if I'd never had a man inside me before him.
We began kissing with more tongue than ever before, the saliva constantly exchanging mouth to mouth. I was close to coming before he entered me, and as soon as he began moving I came. I felt my orgasm wash over me and gush out. I was dripping, and I could feel his sack coated in the liquid, as it lay against my ass.
"That's right baby, cum all over daddy's man cock." His tone was sweet and understanding, but also strangely parental. I felt like a baby, praised for burping after a bottle feeding.
Allowing me time to recover from my involuntary orgasm, he began moving gently. Our faces still together he softly pumped my pussy. Pushing in and pulling out, he nibbled on my ear, whispering how good I felt. I was nervous to start moving, but began moving my hips into his until we found shared rhythm. My father smiled sweetly and the glimmer in his eyes suggested that this was inevitable for him, and he was pleased that I was enjoying him. We were together; father and daughter making love.
My father was the perfect lover, driving my body well and minding its changes, his consistent gentle strokes, and our bodies in rhythm, I began pulsating. My pussy contracting hard, I trapped his cock deep inside me as another orgasm washed over my body. "I'm coming daddy."
"I know baby, I can feel you." He never took his eyes away from mine. "I'm close too," and with a few hard strokes daddy shot the first spurt of his hot seed inside me, "oh baby girl." Kissing, he continued thrusting his seed inside me until he was empty, and I was filled.
He rolled to my side, and after a few moments of heavy breathing he looked over with a content smile. Understandably, I was a little shy. I just had sex with my father and the world was spinning. I'm not suggesting that I didn't want it or didn't participate, but it seemed natural to feel a degree of uncertainty. Of course, he picked up on my doubt. "Don't worry baby. Come and curl up next to me."
I curled up against to his warm naked body, and rested my head on his shoulder, his right arm wrapped snugly around me. I placed my hand on his chest, digging my fingers inside the thickest patch of hair in the center. His eyes expressed such joy, and our mouths drifted together again.
Reaching over his chest his other hand fingered through my dark blonde tresses. "Was that your first orgasm baby?"
"With a man inside me, yes."
He hugged her tighter, "I wasn't able to be your first lover, honey, but I'm overjoyed that I'm your first orgasm." Moving his face down to my ear he nibbled on my lobe, he kissed down my neck and shoulder as he held me tight. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered.
We fell asleep in my bed.
I woke in his arms and felt amazing, I wanted him again. He was still sleeping, but I began kissing his lips, steadily waking him with my mouth. His arms wrapped around my soft naked body as we rolled to our sides. His hardness pressed against me again, both of us already yearning for another.
He mounted me, and wet and creamy he entered me fast and hard. We were bone to bone in the two strokes. "Yes," I moaned as we began our rhythm of love making. My pussy tight around him, I squeezed him even tighter, inhibiting his movement. Daddy looked surprised; his little girl shouldn't know how to do that. The expression quickly vanished in the knowledge his girl was no innocent. He smiled and kissed me, feeling comfortable in pushing in deeper and harder with his strokes becoming more and more powerful.
A few strokes later daddy exploded inside me recoating my womb with his warm seed. "You're my girl."
He remained on top of me; our hips still pumping into each another, as if physically unable to stop, already addicted to the motion and the moist pleasure we'd created between our genitals. Our mouths joined in true bliss.
We made love three more times before my mother and sister arrived late Sunday afternoon.
I went back to school on Monday. Senior class gossip more delicious than the week before, the boys still made fun of me. But it felt less somehow, it was no longer harmful. My daddy did fuck me, and I loved it. It wasn't really gossip anymore, it was true. So when Gregg Smithers broadcasting "Fuck me daddy," in a densely populated hallway, it didn't upset me.
Pulling my text books close, I turned away and smiled.