Daddy thought I was Mom and Fucked Me

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I never imagined a family gathering could become a whirlwind of secrets and emotions. I was at my parents’ house for the weekend, trying to drown out the tension with laughter and too many glasses of wine.

My dad, his mood soured by whisky, had become a permanent fixture on the living room couch these past few months. His once bright eyes now often glazed over, a far cry from the cheerful man who used to carry me on his shoulders. On the other hand, Mum seemed unusually chipper tonight, her eyes dodging mine whenever I tried to catch her gaze.

As the night wore on, the house filled with the sounds of distant relatives catching up, their voices blending into a cacophony that couldn’t drown out the crackling tension between my parents. Seeking peace, I found Mum alone in the kitchen, her hands busy adjusting the fresh flowers in the vase.

“Sarah, love, I’m glad you’re here,” she said, her voice a mix of relief and nervousness. She hesitated momentarily before continuing, “I won’t be home tonight. You can sleep in our room. Your dad… he’ll be fine on the couch.”

Her words hung in the air, a silent confession of the distance growing between them. “I have a date,” she added quietly, almost a whisper. The simplicity of the statement belied the weight it carried.

I stood there, a glass of wine in hand, my heart sinking. The foundation of what I believed was a solid family seemed to crumble with each word. Yet, I found myself nodding, agreeing to keep her secret. “I understand, Mum. Don’t worry about me.”

As the evening stretched, my interactions were mechanical, a smile here, a nod there, all while my mind raced with thoughts of my mum stepping out into the unknown. The wine turned from a pleasant buzz to a heavy blanket, clouding my thoughts and slowing my steps.

Eventually, the house quieted, the guests dispersed, and the shadows grew longer. I slipped out of the back door, careful not to make a sound, feeling the chill of the night air sobering my senses slightly. The thought of my mum meeting someone else, the secrecy of it all, felt like a betrayal and a necessary escape from what our family had become.

Staggering slightly, I went back inside. The house was now silent except for the distant snoring from the living room, where Dad lay oblivious to the night’s revelations. I navigated to my parents’ room, which suddenly felt as unfamiliar as the emotions swirling inside me.

I got undressed and took off my bra, letting my tits relax more. I looked in Mum’s dresser to borrow a nightie. Changing into my nightgown was a clumsy affair; my hands uncooperative and my balance a treacherous ally. Eventually, dressed for bed, I collapsed onto the cool sheets of my mum’s bed, the room spinning slightly as the weight of the day pressed down on me.

It must have been a few hours later that I felt someone lying behind me. I felt a hand stroke my leg, a hiccup sound, and then slurring words: “I… I still love you. Where did our marriage go wrong? Yep, I am a sad, old, lonely drunk. ” It was Dad; he thinks I am mum, shit, what should I do?

“You feel much smoother tonight; Sarah is probably spelt out in her old room,” he said as his hand reached under my nightie. Maybe I should say something; it’s getting out of hand, but then he will know I am not mum and wonder where she is. He doesn’t know that I, Sarah, am not in my old room; I am in my parents’ bed, to which Mum said I could sleep due to Dad on the couch. But he’s right next to me as I lay facing away from him on my side.

“What… what you say to one last fuck,” as soon as he said the word fuck I froze. I need to do something; he wants to fuck me. His hand went higher up my nightie and rested on my panties. I also felt sorry for him; he wanted love, something my mum couldn’t give him any more as they grew apart. I bit my lip as I felt his hand slide my panties down to my thighs.

“Just one last time, love… just one more,” he said as he got closer behind me. I then felt something touch my clit and stroked up and down my labia; oh shit, it was my dad’s cock. I decided just to lay there and let him have what he wanted.

As his cock pressed against my pussy lips, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of emotions. Confusion, guilt and a strange sense of obligation washed over me. I knew I should stop him but couldn’t bring myself. Instead, I found myself arching my back, pushing my ass against him, inviting him in.

He took the invitation, sliding his cock inside me with a groan. I couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as I felt him fill me up. It had been a long time since I had been with anyone, and the feeling of his cock inside me was overwhelming.

He began to thrust into me, his movements slow and deliberate. I could feel his breath on my neck, hot and heavy, as he grunted with each stroke. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the sensation of him inside me rather than the reality of the situation.

“Your pussy feels different; I like it,” he said as he picked up pace, his cock sliding in and out my pussy.

I couldn’t help but moan louder as he filled me up, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside me. My body responded to his touch, my hips moving in rhythm with his thrusts. I felt a mix of guilt and pleasure as I let myself enjoy this moment, knowing it was wrong but unable to stop.

My ass cheeks slapped against him on every thrust, his dick just hammering my aching cunt. Every time he thrusts in, I push my ass back as it goes as far inside me as possible.

“Ughh,” I moan as he goes faster; I try to be quiet as I can’t have him recognise my voice.

That is until I accidentally spoke, “Oh fuck, Dad, Mmmmm harder,” he stopped thrusting.

“SARAH, omg, I… I…” he was shocked and tried to pull out. I reached my arm behind me to try to keep him inside me.

“It’s ok, please finish what you started; it’s not your fault, Dad; listen, keep going, fuck my pussy,” I moved my ass back and forth as his cock slid in and out of me.

“Fuck, Sarah, I shouldn’t be fucking you,” he groaned, but that didn’t stop him, his hands groping my tits through the thin fabric of the nightie. I could feel his cock twitch inside me as he resumed his thrusting, each one harder and faster than the last.

“Yes… oh fuck, FUCK ME, deeper, Mmmmm,” I screamed as he took me from behind, his thick, throbbing cock driving into me with a relentless intensity. I could feel every inch of him, the veins on his shaft bulging and rubbing against my labia, the head of his cock hitting my cervix with each powerful thrust.

The sound of our sweaty bodies slapping together filled the room, accompanied by my increasingly loud moans and his grunts of exertion. The smell of sex was heavy in the air, a mix of sweat, lust, and the musky scent of his cock.

As his pace quickened, I felt myself getting closer to the edge. The sensation of his cock inside me, the feeling of his hands groping my breasts, pinching my nipples, pulling and twisting them, it was all so wrong, yet so incredibly right. I couldn’t help but scream louder, my voice betraying my pleasure despite my best efforts to remain quiet.

I pleaded with my father, “Oh fuck, Dad, harder, FASTER,” my voice barely above a whisper as I felt myself getting closer to the edge. His thrusts became more urgent, his cock driving into me with a primal force that I couldn’t resist.

I felt his hand reach down between my legs, finding my clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. With each rub, I heard squelching sounds coming from my pussy, a mix of his cock sliding in and out and the wetness of my arousal.

He buried his head into my back as he pumped his dick into me with all his might, his balls slapping against my ass with each thrust. I could feel his warm breath on my neck as he grunted and groaned, his hips bucking wildly as he reached his climax.

“Argh fuck,” he roared, his cock twitching inside me as he released his load. He kept pounding and pounding, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he emptied himself inside me. My ass cheeks pushed against him tightly as he pushed the last bit of cum out of his dick.

I could feel his hot cum filling me up, coating my pussy walls and dripping down my thighs.

I lay there, his cock still inside me, as he caught his breath. I could feel his cum leaking out of me, a warm and sticky reminder of what had just happened. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I lay there, frozen in place.

I lay there, his cock still inside me, as he caught his breath. I could feel his cum leaking out of me, a warm and sticky reminder of what had just happened. I didn’t know what to say or do, so I lay there, frozen in place.

“I… I’m sorry, Sarah,” he said, his voice heavy with guilt as he pulled out of me.

I turned to face him, my eyes filled with confusion and sadness. “It’s okay, Dad. I… I didn’t stop you.”

He looked at me, his eyes filled with regret. “I shouldn’t have done that. I… I love your mother.”

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. “I know, Dad. I just… I didn’t know what to do.”

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I looked down, feeling a tear roll down my cheek. “I know, Dad. It’s just… it’s all so confusing.”

He nodded, reaching out to take my hand. “I know, Sarah. I know.”

But then, I looked up at him with a mischievous grin. “Not going to lie though, Dad, I enjoyed you fucking me,” I said as I stroked his face. “Besides the amount of cum you shot inside me, I think you needed the release.”

I sighed, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out. But for now, let’s try to get some sleep.”

He nodded, getting up from the bed. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll… I’ll sleep on the couch.”

As he left the room, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of guilt and sadness. I had just betrayed my mother, and I didn’t know if I could ever forgive myself for it. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny the pleasure I had felt from my father’s touch.

I lay there, the scent of sex still heavy in the air, my body aching from the intensity of our encounter. I didn’t know the future, but I knew our family would never be the same again.

As I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t help but wonder what the morning would bring. Would my father still be on the couch, or would he have disappeared, leaving a trail of secrets and unanswered questions?

But for now, I would push those thoughts aside and focus on the present. I would try to find solace in the familiar comfort of my parent’s bed, hoping that tomorrow would bring a new beginning, a chance to heal and move forward.

As I closed my eyes, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of hope, a belief that despite the darkness of the night, the dawn would always bring a new day, a new chance to start anew.

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