Irrevocably Changed

Haziran 15, 2024 Yazar admin 0

Bdsm

One

Sometimes an event will happen that will irrevocably changes us in an instant. That event happened to me a few months ago one early spring afternoon when I was sure that life couldn’t be better. I had a nice home, had an eighteen-year-old daughter who didn’t think I was completely stupid, and I owned my own company.

My neighbor next door was dressed in tight shorts and tee shirt, her long sexy legs covered in a fine sheen of sweat that delightfully enhanced the bronzed tan of her skin. Sitting at a round, glass-topped table on the patio, my attention was riveted to Jan as she pushed a mower around her backyard. A myriad of wonderful scenarios played out inside my head of the two of us frolicking naked in my bed. Like me, Jan is a divorcee with no one special in her life. Unlike me, she doesn’t want anyone, serious or otherwise in her life. For the moment, until she changes her mind, all I have are the images in my mind’s eye that I entertain frequently.

Jan finished the last swath of grass, cut the mower’s engine and pushed it to the shed where she stores it. I sighed and toyed with the glass that held what remained of the rum and coke I’d been nursing while watching my sexy neighbor. My left hand rested in my lap, lightly rubbing the erection my neighbor’s lovely body had given me.

Since the divorce the year before there had been precious little time for meeting up with women. I work hard and there doesn’t seem to be much time outside raising a teenage daughter, who hasn’t yet graduated from high school, and running a small business. At that time it seemed like all I did was think of women and sex. I was so hard, so turned on that I couldn’t seem to focus and I knew I had to take care of the problem before Beth got home from the mall.

I nearly groaned with anticipation as I hurried inside the house and into the hall bathroom. I stripped off the tee shirt and shoved kakis and shorts to my ankles before sitting on the toilet. A loud groan did escape my mouth when I lightly grasped my cock and began caressing the underside of the thick shaft. I tuned into my favorite fantasy of Jan.

We were naked, standing in the master bedroom of my home, each appraising the other. Her large breasts, topped with dollar size areola and fat nipples, rose evenly with each breath. A smile twitched the corners of her full lips as she boldly studied my hard cock. Large soft brown eyes widened as she took in the whole package. In my fantasy I could see that Jan liked what she saw.

The puffy, smooth-shaved mound of her pussy captivated my attention, which was a creation of my fantasy world since I had no idea what her pussy looked like. I actually didn’t have a single clue what her bare breasts looked like, either, but that’s the fun of fantasies. And, I’ve found that the real thing generally tops anything I can imagine.

Long fingers pushed a strand of golden hair from her face as she took a step toward me, her eyes continuing to evaluate the hard and throbbing eight-inch cock that jutted proudly from a nestle of dark pubic hair between my legs. She stopped, took my cock in one hand and raised her eyes to mine. We stared for a long, silent moment as her hand lightly stroked my cock.

Then, without a word, Jan lowered herself to a crouch; a simple movement that contained more grace than can be imagined. Holding contact with my mesmerized eyes, she touched the tip of an incredible pink tongue to the pre-cum coated head and toyed with it for what seemed like an eternity. She tells me in that husky voice of hers that she’s going to suck every single drop of cum from my swollen balls and swallow it all.

In the real world I was getting close to an orgasm. I could feel that familiar tingling in my balls as the pace of my hand quickened and the image of Jan sucking my cock continued to fill my head. I groaned. In my fantasy, Jan and I continued to lock eyes while I told her I was about to fill her sexy mouth with a hot load of cum. Her lips spread into a grin, her eyes begged for my seed.

Just as I was about to stand and turn around so I could direct the thick ropes of cum into the toilet, the event that would irreversibly change Brian Halley, exploded into reality. The door burst open and my eighteen-year-old daughter came in — almost at a run — and didn’t stop until she was nearly at the toilet.

I had just enough time to see Beth blink her green eyes in confusion when she saw me on the toilet. Then, groaning loudly, my cock exploded. I watched in horror as the ropes of thick, white cum that I had intended to shoot into the toilet bowl landed instead on her tanned thighs. Her eyes, wide with sudden comprehension, stared at my hard cock as it directed each salvo of warm, sticky cum onto her thighs. Finally, she raised her eyes to mine and we stared mutely at one another for who knows how long.

I can’t describe the humiliation, the enormity of the embarrassment I felt as I tried to find a hole to jump in. I could feel my mouth working, attempting trabzon escort to come up with an explanation. As you can imagine, there weren’t enough words in the English language to explain away what had just happened. I stood and pulled my kakis up around my waist and side stepped around her.

“I am so sorry,” I mumbled — the only words I could think of, which didn’t seem at all adequate.

I fled. I hurried from the hall bathroom and down the hall to the master bedroom, holding my pants up so I wouldn’t trip, my right hand still covering my deflated cock. I shut the door and fell onto the bed. A multitude of thoughts scurried through my head as I sat struggling for breath.

BUSTED! That seemed to be the dominant thought even though I quickly realized I hadn’t done anything wrong. I hadn’t tried to seduce Beth, nor had I willingly exposed myself to her. All I had done was make a poor choice of where to masturbate; in retrospect I should have used the master bath instead of the hall bathroom where my daughter could walk in on me. I shouldn’t have assumed that she would be out for at least another hour. Most of all I should have locked the damn door.

If I had committed any crime it would be that I inadvertently, through my stupidity and lack of forethought, humiliated my daughter. I put myself in a position doing what I shouldn’t have been doing, in a place that wasn’t secure, and more than likely caused her great discomfiture. That would be my great crime and it made me feel like the ass I was.

Yet, how could I do adequate damage control? I had to say something. I didn’t have the fear that Beth would suddenly move across country to her mother’s house because she had caught me whacking my pecker in the bathroom, mostly because she and her mother don’t get along. Beth hasn’t gotten along with Marie since my ex-wife left me for another man.

She would be uncomfortable around me now. That was the problem. I didn’t want my little girl, who I loved more than anything, to ever feel awkward around me. I would have to bite the bullet and talk to her, apologize for my insensitive foolishness. After all, it wasn’t her fault and using the excuse that it would be uncomfortable to broach the subject of what happened would be fairly cowardly on my part. If anyone should feel discomfort, it should be Beth.

With a sigh, I stood and walked down the hall to my daughter’s bedroom. The door was open and when I stuck my head in I saw she wasn’t in. I found her curled up on the sofa in the living room watching an old sitcom on television. I grabbed a soda from the kitchen and settled into my recliner.

I could sense uneasiness as soon as I sat down. Maybe some of that, or most of it, was coming from me. I do know that she wouldn’t meet my eyes, which was unusual for Beth. But how often does a teenager walk in on her father while he’s jacking off? In view of what happened it was understandable that she wouldn’t want to look at me. To her, being a young woman catching her father in a sexual act had to be disgusting. I think young people still use the word ‘gross.’

“Listen, honey, we have to talk,” I said finally.

“Ok, Daddy,” she said, shifting her body around to face me. Before I could choose my next words, she blurted: “Don’t be mad at me, Daddy. I’m sorry for what happened.”

It was as though my brain lost communication with my facial muscles. Suddenly, without input from me, my jaw flopped open. I stared dumbly at her for a long moment. Her green eyes were full of tears and I realized that she was about to cry. This made me feel even worse, especially since it appeared she was taking responsibility for my mistake.

“What do you have to feel sorry for, baby?” I was genuinely stunned. “I’m the one who was in the wrong.”

Beth shook her pretty head. “I shouldn’t have barged in on you.”

It was my turn to shake my head. “You had no idea I was in the hall bathroom, Beth. Normally, I use the master bath, so you couldn’t have known I was in there…” I started to say, “jacking off,” but said, instead, “I should have locked the door.”

“I just had to pee so bad,” she said after a long moment of silence. “The door was shut and that should have been a clue.”

“Why don’t we try this,” I suggested. “Let’s not assign any blame and mark this down as one of life’s little awkward moments.” I smiled and added: “One of life’s incredibly awkward moments.”

She laughed, which sounded like sweet music to me. I inhaled a huge gulp of air and let it out slowly. It appeared that we had just avoided something that could have blown up in our faces and caused irreparable damage to our relationship. This made me exceedingly grateful since losing my daughter’s respect would have been unthinkable. I stood and walked the short distance to the sofa and sat down beside her. Beth came willingly into my arms and I kissed the top of her head.

“You know that every one does it, Daddy,” she said a little hesitantly.

“What’s tunceli escort that, baby?”

“Masturbate.” She shrugged her shoulders and grinned. “It’s pretty common for many people and there isn’t anything wrong with it. Besides you and mom have been divorced for over three years and I doubt you’ve been getting much in the way of sex. You have to relieve yourself someway.”

This caught me by surprise and I simply stared at her for a long moment. “How would you know?” I teased.

She turned a nice shade of hot pink, then huffed: “You know I’m sexually active, Daddy. I’m not a kid anymore.”

No, she wasn’t a kid, which was plain enough. She had turned into a young woman seemingly over night. I would like to tell you what Beth looks like but describing someone has always been difficult for me. I know this is trite and somewhat lazy, comparing someone to a celebrity, but it’s the best I can do. To me, Beth resembles Jennifer Love Hewitt, however, there are notable exceptions. Beth’s nose is shorter, a little turned up and covered with a light sprinkling of freckles that I think are adorable. I believe — at least as far as I can tell — that Beth’s breasts are a little bigger. She also seems to be shorter — Beth is 5′ 3″.

Telling me she is sexually active is something I could have done without. Before Marie left she made sure that Beth was on birth control. That’s probably the only sensible thing my ex-wife did in all the time we were together. Still, knowing and pretending otherwise are two different things.

“Catching you masturbating isn’t that big a deal, Daddy.”

“It is to me.”

“Get over yourself,” she giggled.

“I’m trying.”

“Besides, from what I saw you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about,” she grinned. “You’re huge!”

Heat rolled into my face, starting at the neck, and the same shade of hot pink colored the skin of my cheeks. It was meant as a compliment and taken that way but that didn’t lessen the awkwardness for me.

“You’re embarrassed,” she giggled again.

“Well…this is a subject that fathers and daughters don’t normally have with each other.” It was lame and a bit prudish sounding but it was the best I could come up with.

“We’ve always been able to talk about anything, Daddy,” she said, turning serious. “Sex shouldn’t be any different.”

“I know,” I agreed with a heavy sigh.

There were ‘some things’ that fathers and daughters shouldn’t talk about and sex seemed like one of them. Still, she had a point. We have been able to talk about anything for as long as I can remember. I saw the mischievous look in those big green eyes and braced myself.

“So how big is your penis?”

“Beth!” She burst into a fit of laughter and I couldn’t help myself. In spite of the awkward topic I laughed along with her. “That’s a question that most consider personal.”

“Don’t tell me you’re ashamed of your penis.”

“I’m not ashamed of it,” I protested.

“Then how big is it?”

“Eight inches.” I sucked in a big breath and let it out slowly. I shook my head and grinned. “Does that help?”

She shook her head, a look of utter amazement on her pretty face. “Wow! I don’t know what to say. Six inches is the biggest I’ve had.”

“That might be more than I need to know, Sweetheart.”

“You’re such a prude, Daddy.” She grinned and hugged me.

We sat this way for a long moment, neither saying a word as we held on to each other; happy that what happened earlier in the bathroom was no longer a problem. I pressed my face to her dark hair and breathed in the fresh scent of her. Finally, she released her hold on me and sat back, a pensive look on her face.

“I don’t want you to let what happened today become a problem, Daddy. It didn’t bother me to see you masturbating and it shouldn’t bother you.” She smiled and grasped my forearm with a small, soft hand. There was hesitancy, a touch of unease in her voice when she added, “I want you to know that I think you have a gorgeous cock, daddy. I love it.”

Then she almost fled from the room. I sat on the sofa, stunned. That was a hell of a comment for a daughter to make to her father. Telling me that I have a gorgeous cock and that she loves it is tantamount to saying that she wants to make love to me. That thought caught me by surprise and my mouth dropped open. Was that a subtle offer of sex from my daughter?

Two

We ate dinner a few hours later. I could sense something different in Beth as we sat at the table in the breakfast nook. Even though my daughter was her normal, talkative self I could sense that she was a little edgy. She had probably wished for the past two hours that she could take back what she said about my cock. But she didn’t say anything about it, nor did I.

For my part, I had spent that time thinking about her revelation and what it could mean. Knowing — even surmising — that Beth wanted to have sex with me was a little extreme for me. This zonguldak escort was my daughter, the little girl I had spent the last eighteen years raising, and the thought of that kind of intimacy with her was beyond the pale.

The worst part of it? A part of me wanted just that. Something inside my head reveled in the knowledge that there was a chance I could bed that sweet, sexy desirable young teen. I could take her clothes off and slide that cock she thought of as gorgeous into her wet, hot pussy.

Another part of me was disgusted with myself for even minutely considering what she had said as an offer. Thirty minutes before we sat down to dinner I slipped into the master bath to jack off. I had to rid myself of the new (and not so welcome) urges. As hard as I tried to picture Jan and enjoy the many fantasies I had created of my neighbor, all I could think of was my daughter. When I came, it was with Beth’s name on my lips and a picture in my head of her sucking my cock.

I helped Beth clear the table and she loaded the dishwasher. I sat down in front of the television and channel surfed for several minutes trying to get my daughter out of my mind. When I gave up and shut off the television I could faintly hear the sound of music coming from my daughter’s room. She was alone in her room and the thought that all I had to do was go in and take her came to me instantly. She was mine for the taking, or so my conscious tried to convince me.

I must have spent an hour like this, sitting in the dark family room struggling against a need that was deplorable in most people’s way of thinking. In the end, I lost. I suppose I gave up because the need was too great and I simply needed the release. I didn’t intend to do anything to involve her directly. Instead, I went to my room, took off my clothes and lay back on the bed.

A gasp erupted from my mouth when I took my cock in one hand and a picture of her face appeared in my head. In the fantasy that began to play out in my head Beth didn’t hurry off after she uttered that stunning revelation. Instead, she reached over rather demurely and unzipped my kakis, pulled out my cock and smiled at me. She told me once again how gorgeous she thought my cock was as she slowly stroked it. Her small hand was delightfully soft and that added to the pleasure that exploded within my groin.

All thoughts about how wrong an incestuous relationship with my daughter vanished with the feel of her soft hand wrapped around the thick shaft of my cock. My brain did a magnificent job of transferring the feel of my hand into my daughter’s hand. As I lay on the big double bed, breath shallow and harsh in my throat, I took the fantasy a little further: Beth leaned over and gently brushed my lips with hers. A groan that sounded somewhat tortured escaped me as my new fantasy lover gently pushed her tongue into my mouth.

We kissed softly, tenderly at first. Then, as the fires of our lust began to burn hotter, the kiss became wild, passionate, and Beth threw her arms around me. We held each other tightly, writhed together as our tongues tasted; her hands caressed and stroked my burning cock. My hands slid up under the tee shirt she wore and caressed the unbelievably soft skin of her back.

We broke from the kiss and stared at one another. The look in her wide, green eyes was pure desire, her full lips slightly parted as she gasped for breath, her grasp on my cock tight as though she was afraid to let go. The fantasy that played out inside my head, so wrong and unspeakable, was the hottest fantasy I had ever entertained. No woman — not even my ex-wife — had ever brought me to this level of sexual hunger. I wanted to see her naked, to revel in the magnificent body of my beautiful young daughter.

I lay on my bed with my head crowded with thoughts of what Beth might look like naked. I tried to picture her breasts, which I knew were small, but I couldn’t see them. I wondered if her pussy was shaved or if she had a full thatch of raven dark hair covering her young teen mound. Suddenly, these questions became paramount. I couldn’t even picture my daughter naked. Unlike other women, I couldn’t picture my daughter’s most intimate parts.

More important than what Beth looked like naked was the fact that I couldn’t continue the fantasy because I suddenly needed reality. I needed to feel my daughter in my arms, to feel the silky caress of her skin on mine and know — not fantasize — what she felt like. I needed to look into her eyes when my cock exploded.

That was the conundrum since taking it to that level was a place I couldn’t go. At least, not now. The voice of guilt that rode my shoulders was still active and there was no way I could bury my cock deep into my little girl’s pussy. I was not ready for that level. I was not ready to violate Beth’s trust in me.

Abruptly, without prompting on my part, the episode in the hall bathroom returned and I saw my daughter’s face as she came to a halt and looked down at my hard, throbbing cock as I furiously jacked it off to a mind-numbing orgasm. I saw the way her eyes widened perceptibly as she looked down at my hard member as jets of thick cum exploded from it. The slow shift of her beautiful eyes from my spent cock to my face and the way she looked at me brought a hitch to my breath.

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