I Called You Daddy, Part 1 [TF] [M] [Oral] [First Person]

It was the big move-in day at college. “The first day of the rest of my life.” It was bittersweet for me, though. At the time, telling myself that I was a little gay boy, it meant I could finally get away from my bigoted parents. But moving everything on my own was a nightmare. I was 5’7, maybe 130lbs soaking wet, and I was nearly in tears, unable to move all my stuff up the flight of stairs to the freshman dorms.

And then there she was. 

Parker. An angel. The prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. A California beach-blonde. She asked if she could lend me a hand, and together we moved everything in no time, her stuff and mine. She was, objectively, a goddess, but an absolute sweetheart, as if she was oblivious to how truly amazing she was. And her dorm room was just across from mine! We were both excited to have become besties so quickly, laughing and spilling the tea about all the cute boys we saw on campus. That is, until you walked in.

I felt my little twink heart flutter. You were so tall, handsome and masculine. You didn’t look like the other dorky fathers, with the “dad-bods” and New Balances. You were different, like…maybe you were a cowboy in another life. I swear, I felt my knees get weak (looking back, I think you noticed too). I was so sweaty, but you shook my hand and introduced yourself as I tried to fix my messy blonde hair. There was this warmth to you. You were so sweet and funny and kind (I’m gushing I know), and you took us out for dinner, and that’s when you explained that Parker’s mom had passed away years ago. It was then that I really saw you, in all your vulnerability. When you hugged us goodbye, I felt our embrace maybe…linger, just a bit, just long enough to breathe you in. I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. I had never felt so small, and yet, so safe.

Anyway, college was life-changing for me, to say the least. It was where I realized that I wasn’t really a gay boy; I was actually a straight girl, trapped in a boy’s body. Suddenly my whole life made sense. Everything clicked. Why I always felt different, why I envied all the pretty girls so badly, why I was always so self-conscious about my body, all of it. With the help of counselors, my therapist and doctors, I began my transition, taking estrogen via injections as well as testosterone blockers. My already lithe body took to female hormones quickly, as if it were meant to be. With every passing day I felt better about myself. And with your daughter’s help (and youtube), I learned how to do makeup and hair so well I passed as a cisgender girl by my sophomore year.

Four years went by. I completed all the necessary paperwork to have my gender marker changed on my birth certificate and my ID (my name is Taylor, so I didn’t have to worry about changing my name lol). But I wondered if you ever saw me as I blossomed, as I got prettier and curvier. From every visit to see Parker, you must’ve noticed me changing, and not just physically. I went from this awkward, skinny emo boy to a beautiful, confident young woman. The way I spoke, the way I carried myself, my mannerisms, I was literally an entirely different person. I was the girl I was meant to be, and you were still so kind and understanding. But now it was graduation day, and Parker had this (cute) boyfriend now. That evening after the ceremony, they went off together to celebrate, and it was just us in her dorm room. We were both a little drunk and a little happy as we talked about life after college. But your…*our*…loneliness, crept into the conversation. You asked me, like the dutiful, concerned father you’ve always been, if I was dating anyone.

“Ugh. I tried,” I said, nursing my beer and scooting closer to you. “But the boys here are just sooo immature. And dumb.”

You laughed, saying that’s just how boys are sometimes. I smiled. You were glad that your daughter had found a gentleman, at least. And I agreed (he actually was nice), but then I said something I probably shouldn’t have.

“To be honest, I wish I could date a guy like you.”

Fuck. I couldn’t believe I let that slip. There was a long, pregnant pause, but then you laughed, and I was relieved. You asked why, coyly (can handsome-muscular-gentleman-cowboy guys truly be coy?). I was blushing sooo bad again at this point.

“Mr. Ryan,” I said, (I’ve always called you ‘Mr. Ryan’, and it has *always* turned me on). “You’re, like, the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. You are sooo fucking hottt, and you’re the greatest dad ever. I can’t believe you’re single. You always take care of Parker and me and I’m so–”

I stopped myself. I was embarrassed. You were close enough to me that I could smell your aftershave, and my head was *already* swimming. I had swooned over you for years and here you were, on my best friend’s bed, your daughter’s bed, and I…I don’t know what came over me, but I just had to kiss you. Like my life depended on it Part of me was terrified, shaking. I had to do it. Just kiss you, like you’re my handsome prince, my lover, my husband. I thought for a second that maybe I was making a mistake. But when I felt you kiss me back, when I felt your rough hand cup my face, and you kissed me even harder, I was the happiest girl in the world.

I broke our kiss and stared into your eyes. I wanted you so bad, and I could tell you wanted me too by how hard you were in those jeans. I bit my lip, thinking about what I was about to do. I stripped off my crop top, revealing my small, but perky A-cup breasts in a lacy pink bra, and tied my hair back in a ponytail. I needed you, I needed to taste you, to be owned by you, right now. My hands immediately went for your belt as I got down on the floor, and on my knees. I had fantasized about this moment, about you, for so long. I had cum so hard on so many lonely nights, touching myself, fucking myself, thinking about you. I unzipped your pants and I audibly gasped.

“Omfg I knew it!” I thought to myself. Your cock…is just…huge. It’s so big, and thick. I couldn’t resist you or your dad dick in that moment, even if I wanted to. I started kissing the full length of it, savoring it, and I swirled my tongue around the tip, just before taking you completely in my mouth.

“Mmmmghh!!” I whimpered as I gagged on your cock. And I never whimper. I had taken too many women’s studies classes to whimper for a man, damn it.  And I was double majoring in psychology and social justice AND I was a member of the campus feminist group and… it didn’t matter. I was just your daughter’s slutty little friend, eagerly and desperately sucking your throbbing cock. I was drunk on you. Your breathing became ragged, you had one hand slip down to the nape of my neck, the other taking a fistful of my ponytail, and you started to fuck my mouth. Like an animal. Like I was just a hole for you. The “gentleman” I had fallen in love with was gone, and I was just getting dicked down and used by a hot guy. I kissed my way down to suck on your balls and stroke you at the same time, just so I could look up at you with my doe eyes. Sweetly. And then I caught the musk of your cock’s scent, making my little girldick twitch and leak so much precum that my pink little panties were soaked.

“Oh god, Taylor!” you moaned. No. More like, you *grunted*. Like such a man, forcing your cock back down my throat so hard my eyes fucking watered. You were close, and I wanted it so bad. Just when I thought I might suffocate, I felt it. Throb. After throb. After every endless throb, you came for me, in my mouth, and I liked it. No, I loved it. I *adored* it. The taste of your cum, your seed, god, there was so much I didn’t think I could possibly swallow it all. But I did, like a good little slut. I swallowed every last drop of your salty seed and I felt it fill me up, deep in my belly. I had given blowjobs before, but here on my knees, like *this*, with tears ruining my mascara, *with my best friend’s dad* of all people, I never felt more like a woman. I began to smile as I looked at you, spent, sweaty, and still handsome, laying back on the bed. I wiped a bit of your cum from the corner of my mouth and straddled you.

“Mmmmmmm,” I purred, with an incredibly mischievous grin on my face. “Thank you, daddy.”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/c9zx2l/i_called_you_daddy_part_1_tf_m_oral_first_person