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The Day I Pushed My Father Over The Edge free porn video
'Frida, it's gone seven'. The gentle knock on my door is what arouses me from my deep slumber.
The drumming of the rain on the window pane makes it feel cosier under the duvet, and I respond by snuggling into it.
'Luxuriating', that's what my daddy used to call it, back then he would physically drag me out of bed and onto the carpeted floor, then stand over me, as I squirmed in the cool morning air.
Then one morning he got a shock, as his cold hands grabbed my ankles and began pulling my and my duvet from the bed. He was powerful, I could feel that by his grip, he pulled and I shrieked, this morning I knew would be different, because under my duvet, I was nude.
'Does your daddy notice you'?
'In what way', I replied, deep down knowing exactly what she meant. My breasts were developing, small and barely perceptible, not quite brassiere fodder yet, but a sexual deliciousness that they were suddenly there, and a switching-on of an invisible wire that connected my nipples to my clitoris, my body was changing, and I was struggling to come to terms with my sexuality.
Girls do talk about the first men in their lives, their daddies, and the bonding we physically feel and the mental anguish we endure, when we discover the sexual pleasure that awakens us to their existence in the sphere of growing up alongside them.
I think I was physically aware a few years back, when I felt his penis respond to my bare bottom caressing it through my thin cotton pyjamas.
It was early morning and I arose to see him sitting staring at the TV. I wandered in and climbed onto his lap, I think that was the day he appreciated my presence in a sexual way.
I felt him responding, and somehow detached my lower body from my upper self, I leant heavily onto the arm of the chair and clenched my buttocks on this pleasant hardness rubbing my labia and clitoris.
I know daddy could feel my gentle response, there was no great pressure on either part, just warmth and cotton, and my fathers hand placed on my hip, he was in my bodily groove, my pleasure zone, and when I finally shifted my weight, by uttering, 'I'm cold daddy', he gathered me into his arms, and I sat squarely on his erection, and unashamedly squeezed it with my bum cheeks.
We sat quite still, both of us getting accustomed to this new feeling growing between us, our presence was titillating our bonding that morning, and we hugged tightly, my neck was smothered in tiny kisses, my ever so sensitive ears were nibbled and tongued, yes daddy always put his tongue in my ear, it drove me wild and he had been doing it forever.
We both heard mother getting up and sensibly parted, and as I walked back to my bedroom, I dared not look back at him, for fear of seeing him exposed, I was pretty sure he was out.
When I got back inside my room, I put my hand down my front and felt just how wet I was, and as I toyed with my finger, the reward was evident, I enjoyed the feeling.
Now he was tugging at the duvet, my screams a mixture of just knowing he wanted to see his daughter naked, and myself wanting to let him see my crotch, my womanhood, and my yearning for a step further, a deep morbid desire to suck his cock.
I looked at Chyrl, 'In what way', I asked distantly, to her query of my father noticing me, 'Does he want to fuck you', she asked, her eyes a piercing blue, there was something about Chyrl that told you she has been there, her dress sense said 'Fuck me', she exhibited deep loneliness, and a hot body, both conflicting and both yearning for something.
Her candid answer delivered a small jolt to my being, 'Sometimes', I answered candidly, 'he does get hard', and as I spoke I could feel a warmth spread though me.
'Mid life crisis', she retorted, her answer both immature and restoring my faith in her ever appealing sexuality. I laughed along with her off the cuff response.
'So how often do you give your father a hard-on'?
'For ever', she replied, 'how the fuck do you think I get what I want', she continued, suddenly her long white porn nails, needed her immediate attention.
So we were no different in that department, in fact most girls can manipulate their fathers, men now aware of other men making inroads into their daughters sexual favours, their special status being diminished as their daughters were growing up in their independence, and looking for their first encounter, having now exhausted their fingering under their nightly duvets.
Fathers were becoming jealous and overbearing, the thought of their little girls getting wet between their legs with other men's probing was leaving some of them forlorn and using their money to buy their daughters affection, it was in this mixture that we found Chyrl, who wanted for nothing, who had the run of the house, the queen bee, since her mother walked out, and she reached out and soothed her fathers sexual needs.
Chyrl polished her nails, when I snucked in one of those questions that she answered without really listening, 'Does he wear a condom when you fuck'?
She shook her head in the affirmative before answering, 'Yes', and still not cottoning on, she continued, 'I don't want his fucking baby'.
Her face froze, and the blood drained at the realization of her confession, a dark family secret revealed, a revelation that I was not alone with my problem, if you could call it that, well we had not progressed beyond a certain phase.
I looked at Chyrl, every bit the sex symbol she projected, 'Fancy swapping fathers for a night', I hoped she would see the humour and not feel bad about my now knowing her i****tuous secret.
'Dad, I'm not wearing pyjamas', I shrieked as my bare thighs came into view. My hands were locked in a death grip on the duvet, now close to ripping, as more and more of my nude body came into view and my thighs crossed and trapped a sizeable portion between them, daddy's pulling was providing friction between my labia, and my body twisted, and suddenly I was lying on my front on top of the duvet.
I turned my head and looked up to see my father staring down at my nude body, my perfect bum, my thigh gap and exposed labia including my little perfect anus, all pink and puckered, all wet and glistening from my sexual excitement, I was sure my daddy would not fail to see just how sexually aroused I was, from his presence.
I lay there quietly for a few minutes looking up at his face as he explored what was on show on the carpeted floor where I lay.
There was a deafening silence, a pregnant moment of realization, regardless of relationship to each other, and when I saw him reach for his belt to unfasten it, I said those few fateful words, 'It's all right daddy, I will always love you'.
Just before I closed my eyes and relaxed my thighs, my eyes fell on daddies feet, just as his pants fell around them and covered them, 'Now Frida, it's going to happen'.
I remember telling myself I would promise to telephone Chyrl, and tell her everything that was going to happen.
You must excuse me for now, I am sure you understand why I need my privacy just now.
The drumming of the rain on the window pane makes it feel cosier under the duvet, and I respond by snuggling into it.
'Luxuriating', that's what my daddy used to call it, back then he would physically drag me out of bed and onto the carpeted floor, then stand over me, as I squirmed in the cool morning air.
Then one morning he got a shock, as his cold hands grabbed my ankles and began pulling my and my duvet from the bed. He was powerful, I could feel that by his grip, he pulled and I shrieked, this morning I knew would be different, because under my duvet, I was nude.
'Does your daddy notice you'?
'In what way', I replied, deep down knowing exactly what she meant. My breasts were developing, small and barely perceptible, not quite brassiere fodder yet, but a sexual deliciousness that they were suddenly there, and a switching-on of an invisible wire that connected my nipples to my clitoris, my body was changing, and I was struggling to come to terms with my sexuality.
Girls do talk about the first men in their lives, their daddies, and the bonding we physically feel and the mental anguish we endure, when we discover the sexual pleasure that awakens us to their existence in the sphere of growing up alongside them.
I think I was physically aware a few years back, when I felt his penis respond to my bare bottom caressing it through my thin cotton pyjamas.
It was early morning and I arose to see him sitting staring at the TV. I wandered in and climbed onto his lap, I think that was the day he appreciated my presence in a sexual way.
I felt him responding, and somehow detached my lower body from my upper self, I leant heavily onto the arm of the chair and clenched my buttocks on this pleasant hardness rubbing my labia and clitoris.
I know daddy could feel my gentle response, there was no great pressure on either part, just warmth and cotton, and my fathers hand placed on my hip, he was in my bodily groove, my pleasure zone, and when I finally shifted my weight, by uttering, 'I'm cold daddy', he gathered me into his arms, and I sat squarely on his erection, and unashamedly squeezed it with my bum cheeks.
We sat quite still, both of us getting accustomed to this new feeling growing between us, our presence was titillating our bonding that morning, and we hugged tightly, my neck was smothered in tiny kisses, my ever so sensitive ears were nibbled and tongued, yes daddy always put his tongue in my ear, it drove me wild and he had been doing it forever.
We both heard mother getting up and sensibly parted, and as I walked back to my bedroom, I dared not look back at him, for fear of seeing him exposed, I was pretty sure he was out.
When I got back inside my room, I put my hand down my front and felt just how wet I was, and as I toyed with my finger, the reward was evident, I enjoyed the feeling.
Now he was tugging at the duvet, my screams a mixture of just knowing he wanted to see his daughter naked, and myself wanting to let him see my crotch, my womanhood, and my yearning for a step further, a deep morbid desire to suck his cock.
I looked at Chyrl, 'In what way', I asked distantly, to her query of my father noticing me, 'Does he want to fuck you', she asked, her eyes a piercing blue, there was something about Chyrl that told you she has been there, her dress sense said 'Fuck me', she exhibited deep loneliness, and a hot body, both conflicting and both yearning for something.
Her candid answer delivered a small jolt to my being, 'Sometimes', I answered candidly, 'he does get hard', and as I spoke I could feel a warmth spread though me.
'Mid life crisis', she retorted, her answer both immature and restoring my faith in her ever appealing sexuality. I laughed along with her off the cuff response.
'So how often do you give your father a hard-on'?
'For ever', she replied, 'how the fuck do you think I get what I want', she continued, suddenly her long white porn nails, needed her immediate attention.
So we were no different in that department, in fact most girls can manipulate their fathers, men now aware of other men making inroads into their daughters sexual favours, their special status being diminished as their daughters were growing up in their independence, and looking for their first encounter, having now exhausted their fingering under their nightly duvets.
Fathers were becoming jealous and overbearing, the thought of their little girls getting wet between their legs with other men's probing was leaving some of them forlorn and using their money to buy their daughters affection, it was in this mixture that we found Chyrl, who wanted for nothing, who had the run of the house, the queen bee, since her mother walked out, and she reached out and soothed her fathers sexual needs.
Chyrl polished her nails, when I snucked in one of those questions that she answered without really listening, 'Does he wear a condom when you fuck'?
She shook her head in the affirmative before answering, 'Yes', and still not cottoning on, she continued, 'I don't want his fucking baby'.
Her face froze, and the blood drained at the realization of her confession, a dark family secret revealed, a revelation that I was not alone with my problem, if you could call it that, well we had not progressed beyond a certain phase.
I looked at Chyrl, every bit the sex symbol she projected, 'Fancy swapping fathers for a night', I hoped she would see the humour and not feel bad about my now knowing her i****tuous secret.
'Dad, I'm not wearing pyjamas', I shrieked as my bare thighs came into view. My hands were locked in a death grip on the duvet, now close to ripping, as more and more of my nude body came into view and my thighs crossed and trapped a sizeable portion between them, daddy's pulling was providing friction between my labia, and my body twisted, and suddenly I was lying on my front on top of the duvet.
I turned my head and looked up to see my father staring down at my nude body, my perfect bum, my thigh gap and exposed labia including my little perfect anus, all pink and puckered, all wet and glistening from my sexual excitement, I was sure my daddy would not fail to see just how sexually aroused I was, from his presence.
I lay there quietly for a few minutes looking up at his face as he explored what was on show on the carpeted floor where I lay.
There was a deafening silence, a pregnant moment of realization, regardless of relationship to each other, and when I saw him reach for his belt to unfasten it, I said those few fateful words, 'It's all right daddy, I will always love you'.
Just before I closed my eyes and relaxed my thighs, my eyes fell on daddies feet, just as his pants fell around them and covered them, 'Now Frida, it's going to happen'.
I remember telling myself I would promise to telephone Chyrl, and tell her everything that was going to happen.
You must excuse me for now, I am sure you understand why I need my privacy just now.
Alessandra
- 18.09.2022
- 9
- 0
