I don’t think I had realized how much of a willful force of nature Blair was. Not until she had walked through the door to my house. It was the first time in over 20 years that we were under the same roof. And it took her but a few minutes to settle down and take moral ownership of the premises.
She made it clear that she would stay for about a week, maybe a bit more. I don’t know why but I had somehow convinced myself that she would drive from California to Kansas, have dinner with me, and then drive back the very same day. Of course that wasn’t happening.
In the last two days she had cleaned up the house (“I just can’t deal with your man cave mess” she blurted, before starting to move stuff around no questions asked), she had taken me to the nicest restaurant in town, got the entire story of my life since I had left her mother and her, and now she was proudly announcing that she had made a home-cooked Italian meal. “One of my clients is of Italian origin and he is always trying to lure me in with recipes”.
“Well, do you like him?”, I asked
“No, don’t be silly Stephen. Desperation is not attractive. And he is desperate. Rich, but desperate”
The dinner was indeed every bit as amazing. I should have probably asked for this guy’s number for myself. But, even if I had wanted to make the dad joke, she didn’t give me a chance.
Much to my surprise, she took out a bag of weed and announced we would be smoking tonight. She rolled two joints, lit them up, and handed one to me. I was far from a prude, but I hadn’t smoked in a long time. I tried to raise an objection, but she wouldn’t have it. “Sssh” she said, putting her finger to her lips. “Just chill with me. It’s all good”, she added, sitting on the couch, puffing smoke.
I caved. I always caved with her. I don’t know what it was. But she had a force of mind that begged submission. Charisma, you could call it. I was a stubborn old man, and her mother was equally stubborn. We had never figured out the power dynamic of our relationship. We were not peers. But neither of us was in charge. But, with Blair, it was easy to just accept her leadership. I was the father, but she was the boss.
There was, however, a giant unspoken elephant in the room: she had masturbated in front of the camera, for my eyes only. I had yet to ask about it. But I needed to. What was the deal about that? “Blair, we need to talk. What happened the other day..”. Let me finish? No, of course not.
“Oh, that? Yeah, I told you. I had to drink. It happens. Did it make you sad?”
“No, not sad. Uncomfortable” I retorted. “I am still your father, this is not appropriate. I don’t know what it is you thought you were doing. But it doesn’t work that way.”
“Sssh” she said, once again with her finger pointing at her lips. “You don’t need to overthink stuff. Chill in the moment. Chill with me.” and with that, she stood up, walked up to me, sat on top of me, and kissed my mouth.
Of all the things I was expecting in my life, this was not it. She kissed my lips. Again. And again. Bit my lower lip. Ran her hand through my hair. Sent a shiver down my spine. “Blair stop” I tried to blurt, only to be interrupted by her lips pressed against mine. “No” wasn’t going to be an answer for my daughter. I wished for Laura to still be alive. I wished to call her and ask her.. “Was no ever an answer for Blair?” But I couldn’t do that. So I asked her directly. “Blair, do you ever take no for an answer?”
“No, Stephen, I don’t. Stop trying and relax”
She licked behind my ear, took her shirt off and mine, moved my hands on her breasts, encouraged me to pinch her nipples. She licked my chest. Her tongue ran down my nipples. I didn’t even know male nipples to be that sensitive, and there she was licking and teasing them. She seemed to know every secret nerve in my body. She found my cock hard as can be. Harder than it had been in a long time. Her hand closed on it. Stroked it. Slowly. Gently. Teasing it. My hips tried to push against her hand. She smirked, smoked and then asked me to relax, to let go. “I am in charge” she told me “let it happen to you”.
She started grinding against my cock, dry humping herself. She looked so beautiful. So intense. As if focused on a hard task. Eager to deliver the results expected of her. I would have paid anything to ask her what she was thinking, what she was feeling, but I knew that I would be met with nothing but a rebuffal. This was her night, these were her rules. She tensed. Her back arched. Her hips thrusting frantically, as if yearning to be full. And with a sigh, she released her tension. She had came. “This was good Stephen. No dad. I am going to call you dad tonight. You like that, right? Dad. You’re dad.”
She laughed, of a hearty and yet melancholic laugh. “Dad”. What was it? She wouldn’t say. Was it the absurdity of the situation? She had lost touch with me for 20 years, some money in an envelope my last act of parenthood. And now, with her mother gone, she was in a random town in Kansas, getting high and having sex with her estranged father.
She lowered herself on me, my cock slowly penetrating her. She was a tight glove fitting me perfectly. She started riding. Slowly. Gently. As if letting us both get used to the feel of each other. She kissed me again. And then she started whispering in my ear. Her words filthy, depraved, dirty.
“Dad”, she said. “Do you like this? Do you like when your daughter fucks you?”
She would talk and fuck. Sometimes stopping, sometimes pushing my erection deep inside of her in a forceful demanding way, as if her own words were arousing her, as if those were the important words, the ones that warranted being full of cock.
“It’s a shame you left dad. You could have been with me all this time. You could have seen these grow over time dad” she told me as her hand pushed mine against her breasts. “They grew so quickly dad. Do you wish you had been there for it? Mmmhh. I wish you had, dad.”
“I wish you had seen me grow into a woman dad. I missed you with me.”
“Oh Blair, I am sorry, I am so sorry” I tried to interject. But she didn’t care. It was not an apology she was after. Not a cheap apology of an aroused old man. And probably not even a deeply heartfelt apology. She had either made peace with it, or she would on her own terms. This was probably cathartic for her, an ultimate claim of power and strength.
“Oh dad” she continued “I wish you had been there when I became fertile.”. She put my hand on her belly. “Oh dad, I became a woman and you weren’t there to witness it. Do you wish you had? Do you wish you had known? I would have told you dad. I would have told you when I was ready to bear a child.”
I didn’t even know these fantasies existed. Much less that they could bring me pleasure. And she maneuvered me so expertly. She pushed every button, titillated every kink. “Oh dad. And when I discovered my own pleasure. I had to keep quiet. But you weren’t there to hear me anyway. I would have made sure to let you hear, dad”. This was obscene, depraved, and yet irresistible. She was irresistible. She knew everything to say, everything to do. How? How was her control of me so total?
“Dad?”
“Yes.. yes.. Blair..”
“Dad. I am fertile tonight” she confessed, and as she did, she started riding harder, faster, deeper. She knew the implication of those words. I knew the implication of those words. But it couldn’t be. No. “No Blair, don’t do it” I tried to oppose. But no, no was not in her vocabulary. “Yes, dad. It has to be done. I am ready. I am ready for you. Cum dad. Cum in me. I want it.”
I was weak. I should have pushed her off. I should have resisted. Denied her. But I was weak. And she knew how to fuck a man. She was strong. She rode at the perfect pace. She was tight. Wet. Her moans were a chant, an ode to the ancient deities of perversion and debauchery.
“Dad. I want your baby. Our baby” she said, working her every charm to win her prize
“Do it, dad. Cum in me. My belly is ready for you”
I was trying to resist. But, in full honesty, I was trying to give me an excuse. I resisted. She was stronger. More powerful. I tried. But I wasn’t truly stopping her. I was savoring the moment. I was ready. I caved, admitted my defeat. “Make a baby with me Blair” I moaned as I thrust against her hips one last time and came. I came deep in her. I came like a thirsty man in a desert drinks. I wasn’t sated until every drop off my balls had been shot deep inside her.
And just like it started, it ended. Her week with me ended, and she returned to California. “I’ll call you soon” she screamed as she hugged me goodbye and ran to her car.
Soon became a week, then two, then three. Not a word from her. A text. An email. A call. Had she gotten what she wanted? Had she settled the score somehow? I didn’t know. I didn’t dare reach out to her. Fear of rejection. Fear of being inappropriate. And then suddenly, after more than a month, she called.
“Stephen, I am pregnant. It’s yours” was all she said. She showed me the stick. She was having a baby. Her baby. My baby. Our baby.
I had more feelings than I knew to express in words. I had failed as a father once. Was I to try again? Was I to stay away and ignore it all? And this was a child of incest! But Blair, she knew exactly what to do. “You will move back to California. We’ll tell the baby the father left. You’re the grandpa willing to jump in and help. You can stay with me for a while, until you settle down here.”
Once again, I caved with few and promptly overruled objections. She had won. “Oh, and Stephen?”
“No more sex. We can’t afford to get caught. Too dangerous. Sorry.”
Tonight, I finished packing everything valuable in my house. I am leaving Kansas tomorrow. San Francisco my destination. For a new life. A new chance at doing the right thing by a child. I pray that I will be better this time.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/au2ckd/mf_inc_preg_ds_fdom_am_i_pretty_part_2