Dating Dad Part 2 free porn video

The last 24 hours had been a blur. I very much felt like a child staring at the ground from a moving car. Objects blurring and stretching in one continuous loop of color and chaos. I was not much help to the police as I had been so focused on my dad. I remembered no faces, just impressions of them. What I remember clearly were his eyes. Those eyes, so full of pain, and love. Why did he smile at me? Oh lord, why did he fucking smile?

I thought he was dying. I feel so much shame at my thoughts. Questions had plowed through my mind as I desperately clung to my father, his blood all over me. How could he do this to me? How could he leave me? Guilt, and shame from the moment still descend on me like a dark cloud.

He was here, alive, and the doctors told me he would do just fine. He was going to be well, and survive this awful tragedy. But he had looked into my eyes, I am sure that he saw my selfish thoughts. He could always see through me. When had it all become about me? At what point had I turned inward and lost my focus? How could I be so selfish?

The bullets, two of them, had been removed successfully. The doctor had stood over me while I sat in the ER, talking. My vision shimmered at the edges, and my head felt like a helium filled balloon on a string. His voice seemed to echo in my thoughts, as if on a delay. His words left impressions as the emotional storm raging inside of me tried to drown out reality. They were a low caliber, this was lucky, the doctor assured me. Both of the bullets had lodged in fatty tissues, and done minimal damage. One had nearly passed clean through, which had made surgery a bit complicated.

He was going to live. That is what mattered. That is all that mattered. Right? Then why did I feel so fucking guilty and angry?

I pushed the feelings deep inside of me, imagining that I shoved them into a room shutting the door. It felt silly, and was a hollow attempt at soothing myself.

I had my eyes closed during my self pity, when I opened them, I noticed two people standing in the doorway. One was a tall woman, with a natural elegance and beautiful face that faintly reminded me of Dad. She was decked out in jeans and a man's white t-shirt, too large for her frame, though it seemed to hang just right to accent her femininity.

She stood there, just staring at me, with round eyes and her lips slightly open, as if she was locked in some internal struggle. Next to her was a young man. He must have been close to my age, he was doe eyed and innocent, rather than looking at me, he stared at my father. I will admit Dad looked awful with his artificial breathing apparatus and all his wires and tubes.

She spoke to me then, and I recognized the voice rather than the face. She had changed, looking less like a girl and very much a woman. But when she spoke, her words came to me as if on the strings of a harp, harmonious and vibrant, a French accent running away with her vowels. I knew her instantly. I had not heard from her since Mom's funeral. She had always been a recluse.

"Jessica…" her vowels carried the a in my name as if on the wind. "I am so sorry." She held her arms open.

I cried out. "Aunt Isabelle!" And ran to her open arms. I felt like a little girl again, tears hot in my eyes. She wasn't really my aunt, she was Dad's cousin. My parents didn't believe children should call relatives by first names, so they gave her the honorific of aunt.

Embarrassed by my childlike outburst, I stepped back from the hug. Aunt Isabelle rarely left her property. I had fond memories of visiting her there as a child.

Smiling weakly, I apologized for my outburst. "I'm sorry… it's just been awful." I managed to get the words out before I burst into tears again.

"Shhhh… it is okay…" Aunt Isabelle said, pulling me into a hug again.

I didn't know that I had any tears left, but there they were, and they came unbidden. I sobbed silently, my face buried in her shoulder. Eventually I was able to relax. It had been many hours of being alone, and a friendly face was more than welcomed. Even if years had separated us.

"How did you know?" I asked.

"How did you get here so fast?" Her accent soothed me immensely. "You could not fly so fast eh?"

"I was there when it happened, I came to visit." My voice sounded weak and distant, I fought panic that was rising up in my chest. She couldn't know, nobody could know our secret, they would separate us for sure. "The doctor, he said he will be okay." A dry sob rolled through my shoulders as I changed the subject.

"This is good." She said simply. "Jessica, meet Jesse… Jesse meet Jessica… Jesse and Jessica… so similar you two should be great friends eh?"

The young man, standing next to her, raised his hand weakly and managed a smile. He turned to her and asked. "Tante Belle, you are her aunt as well?"

"No… no… Jessica is a cousin, but she has always called me tante." She corrected herself "Aunt."

I stared at my Aunt Isabelle, I felt like a troll or a gnome standing next to her. She was the very picture of femininity and beauty. There was never a moment where she wasn't poised and spectacular. Every movement, even the way her mouth moved was fluid and seductive. I knew, without a doubt, that she was every man's fantasy.

"You must eat, and rest." Her tone left no room for argument.

We headed towards the cafeteria, my panic trying to take the front seat as I walked away from my father. But Aunt Belle had me firmly by the arm, her touch somehow comforting. I wasn't alone. I felt as if a weight had been lifted, but also I worried about what was between me and Dad.

Our experience had been wonderful, our love expansive. We had done something so intrinsically wrong, that I was sure the guilt of it was written plainly across my face. We had broken all taboo and shared moments of intimacy no father and daughter ought to ever share. It was beautiful, and I worried that everyone would figure it out. Worse, I could not even talk to Dad for reassurance that it had been alright. That everything would be alright. That we would be okay. Fuck my life, Daddy please wake up. My panic smashed into me, I choked down my food, staring at the table.

I spoke little, and my aunt spoke less, Jesse spoke not at all. We were a silent trio. It was with great surprise that we found my father, awake and eyes sharp, when we returned. They had removed the tube from his throat, and he appeared to breathe easily on his own. His beard looked haggard and unkempt, but in its center he smiled with cracked lips.

"Princess!" His voice was raspy and he barely croaked it out. But it was enough to un-hinged me, I ran to his side. My hands clasped his face, caressed his forehead and cheeks.

He was going to be alright. It was more than words now, that one word, gave me more comfort than a thousand reassuring words from the doctor could. My tears were not born of sadness, but of joy.

The next couple of weeks seemed to fly by, Dad and I talked a lot. We found a lot of time to discuss our situation and future. He told me about the cabin he was buying from our cousin Isabelle, and how he was in the middle of remodeling it. He told me how he had found peace, holding a hammer and nail. There was something satisfying about tearing something a part and rebuilding it.

The cabin, it turned out was no place for recovery, as it had been stripped down to the studs. At the moment it was more of a bachelor pad. This was unfortunate, as it meant we would have to stay with Aunt Isabelle, she had a place built nearly a mile away. So it was decided, on the day he was discharged, we followed her ancient Jeep. Dad slept next to me as I drove.

I was assailed with irrational concerns and worries the whole drive. Driving let my mind wander free with no way to cage it. How could we possibly stay in her house and not get caught? How would we even be able to talk about "private matters"? What would happen if they found out? I felt like a witch, that if discovered, would be burnt at the stake. I was a mess.

Seeing the cabin made reality even heavier, its weight a heavy mantle, suffocating me. Dad and I had just discovered one another, all I wanted was to nurse him back to health, feel his skin warm against my own. I wanted the freedom to continue to explore one another sexually, without tiptoeing around.

"Don't be so glum" my father said to me, I hadn't realised he was awake. It startled me, and the car lurched in the gravel, and I winced as he groaned in pain from the unexpected movement.

"Sorry…" I said earnestly. "I didn't realise you were awake." My apology was heartfelt.

"Oh… I know… you've been trapped in your thoughts, I can see it. You furrow your eyebrows just like your mom did." He smiled at me, and I relaxed the tension in my shoulders. His smiles always made me feel better.

"I worry-"

He cut me off. "Don't… don't worry honey… I'm going to heal and we will move back to the cabin." He lifted a hand motioning behind us. "It will just be us, and life will be perfect, together… just us… okay?"

I sighed appreciatively, "yes… okay…"

My smile seemed to be all he needed, and he laid his hand on my knee.

I was not ready for the scale of her house, or the grandness of it sitting on the hill. It looked down over a lake, and its angles were sharp and architectural. Its walls were logs, and they shone with oil. The windows were impressive as they seemed to cover the entirety of the front side. The structure looked masculine and dominant, like it had conquered a mountain and sat upon its corpse.

"Impressive, isn't it?" My Dad asked me.

"It's huge…" I said, only faintly aware of the smile that broke out on my father's face.

"That's what she said…" he broke off in a fit of laughter, and I joined him, laughter felt good. We laughed together, his laughter warmed my soul.

"I need a grinnectomy." I said, as my smile began to hurt on my face.

We laughed some more, it was great, we were still grinning ear to ear when we pulled in behind Isabelle's Jeep. She had the wheelchair out and ready, and she seemed to smile approvingly at our smiles.

It was only four days later, Saturday, that things got turned upside down. I awoke early Saturday, my father still slept, and after checking on him I went to find Isabelle. The house was large, but mostly open, and not finding her as usual, in the main living areas, I went to her room. Knocking softly, so as not to disturb her, should she still be sleeping. I heard no reply. The door was not shut all the way, and had swung slightly open despite my gentle knock. It was dark in the room, the shutters still drawn. I saw a light beneath a door on a mirrored wall, and assumed it to be the closet. I made my way across the room, finding the door unlatched and thought, she must have left the light on. I entered it to turn off the light.

What I saw, froze me in place, involuntarily I made a sound of disgust. My cousin Jesse spun around, naked. In his hand was what I assumed to be Aunt Isabelle's panties, they were wadded up, and he was masturbating into them.

"Oh my god!" He squealed "it's not what it looks like!"

It happened in a split second, one, one hundredth of a second, nano time. But however slight it was, it gave me pause. He released his cock, and shrank quickly from his fear, he clasped his hands over himself, but less to hide his penis and more to hide his wrists. But I had already seen them. He averted his eyes, his shame plainly written across his face. White strings of cum dripped from him onto the carpet. I realised he must have been in the middle of climax.

I walked up to him, and grabbed him by the wrist, turning it over. There were livid pink scars, they looked swollen and angry. My heart softened as I looked him in the eyes. I saw there, a loneliness, one I was well familiar with. I sighed.

"If it's not what it looks like… then what is it?" My voice sounded foreign to me.

"I love her…" he whispered, his eyes were desperate and pleading. He needed me to understand, I could feel it in his intensity.

"I can't stand here and talk to you while you're like this…" I made a motion towards him. "Come see me, after you're dressed. I'll be outside... I need some air..."

I left him there, naked, penis dripping. I needed to think, needed to breathe, what was happening? He was in love with her? She was his aunt. The realization washed over me and I choked on my own breath, stopping to clutch at my chest and cough.

I knew exactly how he felt, it was just a little while ago that I had been dating my Dad over the internet. Hadn't he and I even fantasized about him masturbating into my panties? It's not the same though, was it? No, it wasn't the same, but it was similar enough. Those scars though, my heart had melted, what pain he must be feeling inside. To inflict such physical pain on himself, it must be terrible. Questions rained down like hail inside of my head, one after another, pounding their way into my mind.

Did Isabelle know? Had they already fucked? How kinky was that? When did he try killing himself and why?

So many questions, before I knew it I had made it to the lake. Before me was a bench, and I sat, hard enough that the wind pushed out of me with a satisfying sound. Life was heavy, intricate and highly complex. How in the world was I supposed to navigate these fucked up waters? The lakeshore in front of me was churned into mud, I stared at it for awhile until I faintly began making sense of the human footprints in it. Lots of them. A smile formed on my face when I realised someone had been swimming. I would love to fucking swim, my mind ran away with itself then, imagining the cool water in the evening.

He sat down next to me. We didn't speak for a few minutes, the sounds of bugs and a bullfrog, the only thing in the air.

"It's a long story…" he said. "Would you listen if I told you?"

"I would..." I said quietly, not sure why I did, or why I was even talking to him. But I felt compelled, and wanted to know everything. Maybe I wasn't alone in my sin.

He wove me a story that was so sad that tears ran down my face. I could not imagine a childhood so devoid of love and affection, as mine had been the opposite. His parents seemed like creatures that loomed in the shadows, and only came out of hiding to hurt him with judgement and criticism. But it wasn't all bad. His summers and vacations with his tante, which was french for aunt, sounded magical, and reminded me so much of my own fairy tale childhood. Only his lasted mere breaths, and was over with the seasons.

I learned about Rachel, his high-school girlfriend. Oh, how I grew to hate her. I never met this Rachel, but I knew if I did, I would not be able to contain my rage. I would fucking hammer her into the ground with my words alone.

Rachel had used him, manipulated him and abused him. She had used his love as a tool to control him. And had simply discarded him when he was no longer useful. I had known women like this before, they were an insult to all women. There was more to his story, and it invoked in me such an emptiness and sadness, that I could not help but pull him in and hug him. He cried, and tears burned down my cheeks as well.

My heart ached for Jesse. I could feel the damage in him, I knew that damage by name. My father had healed me and shown me love. He had held me, made love to me, made me whole. This poor boy, had none of that. He had nothing and no one. I held him, and fell into me.

His suicide attempt had been genuine, and not a plea for help, he had cut his wrists hoping for revenge, out of anger and pain. Only to discover while he was healing, that his parents thought it was selfish, that they had offered judgement and condemnation only thinking of themselves. I cried with him.

The whole story had been told, and his aunt being the only part worth telling. I understood completely, his obsession, I wanted to tell him of my own obsession. Of my own forbidden love of my father, of our sin, and how glorious it was. But I did not, this wasn't about me. Even though we were near in age, I had taken the more authoritative role. He had never been allowed to grow, and in many aspects was still just a boy. No, he had not slept with Aunt Isabelle, but he had held her love sacrosanct, and his desire had blossomed from there. Who was I to judge, really I was guilty of the same taboo, the same sin.

I wanted to tell him everything. "I… won't tell Aunt Isabelle" it came from my lips hastily, and wasn't what I'd intended to say.

"Thank you…" he breathed in a sigh of relief and laid his head on my shoulder. I lay my hand on his leg, patting him, and he laid his hand upon mine.

"I need to go back and take care of my Dad, he can't do for himself yet and will need me." My voice sounded weak to me, like I was making an excuse to leave him with his darkness. So I added, quickly, "why don't you join us for some late breakfast?"

He turned to me, his pale green eyes a reflection of youth and the pain that comes with it. "Yes… I would like that… Jessica."

I stood then, and offering a curtsy, as well as my hand said. "Jesse, dear sir, could you be so kind?" He giggled then, and took my hand leading me back to the house.

After our mishap, Jesse and I grew close, we became good friends. Often we would take afternoon jaunts around the lake, and pour our hearts out to one another. I told him many things, but I did not divulge the truth of things with my father. I am not sure why? Am I ashamed? I hesitate to dig too deep into these feelings, and easily push them aside. Jesse, on the other hand, was all too willing to talk about such things. I was a rapt listener, as the more easy the subject became the more comfortable I became. I had decided that I would tell him, soon, when the time was right.

Winter settled in and the first snowfall blanketed the ground. There is something magical about snowfall, the world becomes quiet, and it sparkles and gleams. The lake became ice, with dark splotches where it was deepest, and we all became stir crazy. I didn't know just how stir crazy or rather how crazy we had become, until one afternoon after being stuck indoors for days, Jesse and I took a turn outside trying to walk through the drifts. It was on our return that my world seemed to upend. We came back, and stumbled on Aunt Isabelle, giving my father a shower, where up to now I had bathed him with a sponge.. My world came crashing to a screeching halt.

"What the fuck!?" I blurted out, Jesse grabbed my elbow from behind me. I shook him off. Our bathroom door was wide open, and Dad was sitting in the shower on a chair. That wasn't the upsetting part. She was standing over him, she had taken off her pants, and her white t-shirt was wet in places, clinging to her body. She had a sponge in one hand, and the mobile shower head in the other.

"What…?" Aunt Isabelle, looked genuinely perplexed, as did my father. Was he putting on an air of innocence?

Water continued to pour out of the shower head, and rather than just stand there, I took off. Jesse followed me, I could feel him behind me.

"What's wrong Jess?" He said urgently behind me. My heels were thumping a hollow march across the wooden floors.

"Nothing!" I spun towards him, tears came unwanted. "Nothing at all!" But it wasn't nothing, it was everything. I didn't want my Aunt Isabelle half naked flaunting herself at my Dad. I didn't want him even looking at her. She was so much prettier than me. She had it all, I didn't want her having my father as well. I wanted him to want me. To look at me. I cried and stared at Jesse.

I think he meant to give me a hug, but when he stepped in to me, I kissed him. Our lips met one another's, and a tension I had not realised was between us, extinguished like water on hot coals. For a brief moment we hung in suspension and our bodies desperately clung to one another. Hands roamed and he pressed tightly into me. Our tongues teased one another and the taste of him made me wet with desire.

We broke off, he stood there wide eyed and breathing hard. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, and glanced down to see his excitement pushing at his pants.

"I'm sorry… " I began, but I could see the fragility in his eyes, so instead of apologizing, I simply gave him a hug. "I'm not sorry…" I whispered, " I'm just angry right now, and I shouldn't have done that" It felt good to tell him the truth of it, and I resolved in that moment to tell him all of the truth.

I took his hand, and begged him to come with me, we left to venture back outside then. Swelling inside of me, aching to be released, was my story. It was time to tell him everything.

We stuck to the driveway where the snow had been mostly compacted, and made good time once we got into the woods. The ground was nearly bare, as the tree canopy protected much of it. I realised as we came up to the cabin, that it was Dads now, and I hadn't even been inside. I said as much, and Jesse came with me willingly enough. It was tough going as the snow got deeper in the meadow, but we made it red faced, steam rolling off the both of us.

We got inside, and it was just as cold. "They must have turned the heat off, since it's empty." I stuttered as my teeth chattered.

"Yeah, even turned the water off" Jesse called back, as he checked the sink.

The kitchen looked serviceable enough, but the living area had been stripped to the studs. I poked around to the bedrooms, there were two of them. One was in similar shape, studs bare. But the master contained furniture and a well quilted bed.

"In here" I called as I realised the bedroom was still insulated and a few degrees warmer than outside.

"I had hoped to run my hands under hot water" Jesse complained, as he came down the hallway.

"Well we can hang in here and chat, and there's blankets." I moved into the bedroom, realising that this was where my father had been living as he remodeled the home. Anger surged into my chest, making it tight. How could he? I felt betrayed.

Shivers ran through me, and my body trembled of its own accord. "I'm fucking cold" I said it out loud as if it could somehow change things.

Jesse grabbed the quilt off the bed and threw it around him, he held one flap up invitingly, and I moved under it, tucking myself in. We huddled together, our bodies pushed together.

"I heard that to stop hypothermia, you can get naked together in a sleeping bag…" he said it with a hint of humor, but used a tone that sounded like a question. Our bodies still trembled from our shivering.

"Oh you did?" I said, punching him in the leg. I felt a surge of some overwhelming emotion that I couldn't identify. Instead of squashing it down and ignoring it, I let it wash through me. It came with an urge and my mouth was open before I thought about it. "Lets try it then!"

He looked at me in shock, but I had already jumped up, back into the cold. I felt reckless, and angry, and the kiss earlier had stirred something in me. I stripped off my clothing clumsily, enjoying the wide eyed look I got from Jesse. Once I was completely naked, I dove for the bed and ripped the blanket from him. Covering myself to the chin, I lay on my back, shivering.

"Your turn" my voice sounded powerful and strong, I sounded fucking confident and in charge. He complied, quickly and with as much awkwardness as I likely had displayed. I watched as he took off his clothes, and his cock sprang free. He dived down with embarrassment, his round white ass in the air, and crawled under the foot of the blanket, up next to me.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my pounding heart, we both lay on our backs, naked next to each other, gently he clasped my hand. It was a sweet gesture, and it did what I could not, I felt myself relax and regain control.

"Is this… what you wanted to tell me?" He asked, I could hear the nervousness in his words.

"No…" out with it, Jessica. "I'm in love with my father." I finally said it. Instantly panic overcame me and I wanted to get up and fucking run.

"I understand" He squeezed my hand reassuringly as I nearly choked on the cold air. "He's all you have, like Tante Belle is all I have."

I nearly cried, but I held it back with great force.

"Now we have this, what is this?" He asked in a whisper.

"Shut up" my voice sounded harsh and rude, in apology, I rolled over and draped myself over him, the heat from our bodies seemed unreal and raged like a furnace. His cock was pinned beneath my leg, and my hand played across his chest.

"I'm sorry…" Jesse murmured.

"For what?" I asked thickly, I was incredibly turned on.

"That I'm hard… we were supposed to just cuddle"

"I'm not sorry." I said as I reached down, and moving my knee, freed him. I wrapped my hand around his cock and squeezed, he gasped, and let out a small groan. I began to stroke him, and crawled under the covers. When I put my mouth on him, the taste of him exploded in my mouth, and so did he. He spasmed and shot his hot cum into my mouth. It surprised me and instinctively I swallowed when it hit the back of my throat.

"Ughhhh." He groaned. "Holy shit that was intense"

I giggled, I couldn't help myself. I gave him one last suck as he began to soften, and let go of him. It was my turn for some satisfaction.

Just as I was about to speak, I heard the snow crunch as the sound of a vehicle approaching broke the silence.

"Fuck!" "Shit!" We both said out loud, as we scrambled from the bed and began pulling our clothes on. We dressed in record time, nearly falling over one another, laughing as we both tried to exit the bedroom simultaneously. We peaked out the front window and found Isabelle and my father pulling up through the deep snow in her Jeep.

"Act normal!" I hissed as I opened the front door. I waved at them, and they both became animated. Isabelle jumped from the Jeep, and made to run up to me, but instead she fell face first in the snow with a small holler, and rolled over laughing in delight.

"I am glad to find you! Is so cold! Let us go back now. We have worried too long." Her voice seemed to be swallowed by the snow, it sounded mellow and muted. We ran for the Jeep, giggling and pushing one another in the snow.

My father didn't say much, other than that he was relieved to find us. But the look he gave me, let me know that we had much to talk about. Shame began to well up inside of me, but I found it easy to push aside. The Jeep was warm, and I found my eyes became heavy as that warmth penetrated me. I let it.

The winter passed, and spring tickled our memories, reminding us of warm days to come. The snow melted and fresh blossoms appeared on the trees. My father and I had still not talked about that day I ran away in the snow. But we had not had much opportunity. Aunt Isabelle doted over us both, and Jesse was always close on my heels. With the months that had passed, I no longer had to clean and dress my Dads wounds. The bandages on his chest were no longer necessary, though he still suffered from pain.

It felt like we had drifted apart during these long months. With no chance for intimacy, physical or verbal, I felt like we drifted away from one another. I told him this, during one of our few private moments, and begged of him to move us to the cabin. I think he saw the desperation in me, as I could see the hardness of his jaw line soften, and his eyes take on a different light.

"You've been in there, only the bedroom and kitchen are serviceable." He said, a tentative cast to his voice.

"It's fine, we can make do…" I told him trying to kindle the flames of our love. I moved in for a kiss, and not just a peck as had become customary. He turned his cheek to me, rejecting me. My anger was quick to alight. Before I could speak, he hung his words in the air before me, quenching my flames.

"You're right…" he spoke with raw emotion in his voice. "I've done nothing but mope and feel sorry for myself. " he looked at me, really looked at me. "I want nothing more than to be alone with you."

I melted, all my anger drained from me, and with it my ability to mitigate my emotions. I threw myself at him.

"Daddy… " I sobbed. "Let's go to the cabin, I will get Jesse to help us finish it."

He patted me on the back as I lay against him. "Ok… I will talk to Isabelle tonight."

And so it was that our time at Aunt Isabelles had come to an end. I reminded Jesse, many times, that we were just a small walk away, and that he had promised his labor to fix up the house. But he still worried over our separation and it gnawed at me as well. I had never been so close to someone other than my parents. We shared an intimacy that extended beyond just our shared secrets. In the end, he understood, he and I both needed time alone with the people we had fallen in love with. As neither of our loves could ever know of one another's incestuous sins.

The first week at the cabin was delicious. It felt great to have some freedom. Dad wasn't able to do much of anything physically, though his wounds no longer required bandages, he was unable to move much physically. But there was a lot I could do. I took to teasing him with my dress, I would wear just panties and a shirt and take every opportunity to show him beneath the shirt tale. My sexual promiscuity finally got to my father as he prompted me to call the doctor about physical therapy. He wanted to heal so we could play, and nothing ever made me happier.

We went into town the very next week for his first physical therapy appointment. Dad seemed to regain a lot of his spirit as hope for a full recovery blossomed within him. I began to realize that all these months, I practically had ignored him in favor of my own self pity. His excitement was intoxicating. After his first session, he talked about his dreams for us, plans for our future and for his recovery.

Arriving back at the cabin, his energy turned predatory, and his hands were everywhere on me as I helped him to the door. He was exhausted, and wilted once in the bed, but I didn't let that ruin our fun.

For the first time since the accident, I placed my lips around his cock. I worked it with my tongue and hand, enjoying the taste of him. I found that the length of him was pleasing, and my throat inviting. His groans and exclamations of pleasure were passionate and loud. I paused for a moment, saliva on my chin, and looked him in the eyes.

"I missed you Daddy." I choked back tears, and then choked back him.

He was hairy, understandably , and it tickled my nose, which made me giggle. I tried to giggle, with him in my mouth, instead I gagged slightly. He burst inside my throat at that moment, and his cum shot down my throat, I gagged again and it came back up my nose. I whipped my head back l, stifling my gagging, embarrassed I looked at my Dad.

His eyes were scrunched closed, and his body spasmed. I quickly wiped his cum from my face, and leaned back down to clean the length of him with my mouth. God he tasted good. I had missed him and was glad to have him back.

"Your turn…" he said to me, slowly scooching down the bed. I didn't hesitate I crawled past the length of him carefully, and straddled his face. I could only see the top of his head and eyes between my legs, and when his eyes met mine, he closed his mouth around me. I spasmed violently from the ecstasy of his attentive mouth. My voice seemed to call out my pleasure with reckless abandon. I placed my hands on the headboard, the sunlight from the window in front of me felt warm and satisfying on my naked breasts.

His tongue swept inside of me, and back out to tease my clit, the pressure inside of me began to build. I knew I was near to cumming and I could feel my wetness grow. It had been so long, with so many teases and no release. As the pressure became paramount and I stepped over the edge to bliss, I screamed out to the heavens. My eyes previously clamped shut, opened as I bucked like a bull rider on my dad's face. My back arched as he tickled my asshole, and I glanced up to see Jesse, outside the window, staring at me. Dad stuck his finger inside of my asshole, and nibbled the hood around my clit, his teeth gentle but firm. I came again, bracing myself, my eyes locked on Jesse until I could keep them open no more. I fell forward, exhausted and spent, wanting for all the world to sit back up, but I didn't have it in me to do so.

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