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i-want-my-dad

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Subject: I Want My Dad DISCLAIMER: This story contains graphic depictions of sex between men, as well as incest themes. If you are under 18 years of age or not allowed to read such material in your jurisdiction, please be advised. By reading this story, you agree that while such themes are very hot, they are a fantasy only and should not be carried out in the real world. That includes sex between family members or with underage people. This story takes place in a universe where STIs don’t exist. We, however, do not live in such a world, so please always practice safer sex. I hope you enjoy this, I’ll continue it if it gets good reception, so please don’t hesitate to reach out! Please support Nifty so that these nasty stories have a place to call fty/donate.html — I want my dad to fuck me. There’s no beating around the bush (though I’ve done plenty of that…). I want my real, biological father to take his fat cock and shove it inside me, breeding me like the boipussy I know I am. I want him to let me slobber all over his cock and suck down his huge load, filled with all my potential siblings. I can’t say exactly when it started, but even at a young age I was attracted to my father. According to him, I was a daddy’s boy since I was born, even before my mom passed away. My dad says I was attached to him, I wanted to be with him all the time. He even says I used to go into his room while he was changing! When I was a kid and would take baths with him, I always got so excited. My dad says I refused to take a bath with my mom, so he had to do it. I remember looking at his big, muscular hairy pecs while he would soap me up. I remember wanting nothing more than to suckle on his chest. At first I thought my fascination with my dad’s body was just admiration. Objectively speaking, he is a breathtaking man. Extremely masculine, hairy, powerful muscles from being a former college athlete and still going to the gym religiously. He has a salt-and-pepper mustache and is graying a bit, but I think that just makes him even sexier. He definitely is in incredible shape and looks amazing for his 42 years. My Mom and Dad were in their late 20’s when they had me. They said I was a miracle baby – my mom was supposed to be infertile. They really showered me with affection. I don’t remember my mom much because she passed away when I was really little, but just by looking at pictures I can tell istanbul travesti she was an attractive woman. I did take after her a lot more than my dad. My mom was slim, with blonde hair and blue eyes, like mine. In every picture of them my dad has an expression full of love and adoration. So like my mom I was pretty slim, and I had soft, milky skin. I did have to say though – seemed like my mom had a nice ass, and thank God I inherited those genes. My butt was round and plump, and it looked amazing in tight shorts and jeans that hugged my curves. To put it frankly, I was the ideal cute little twink that men wanted to mess up. And I loved it. As I got older my fascination with my dad’s body grew. I remember a couple years back, before I went through puberty, I snuck into my dad’s room at night because I wanted to sleep with him. (Dad says I always wanted to sleep in his bed after mom died, and at first he humored me, but then he had to enforce a `sleep in your own bed’ rule, no matter how much I pouted or cried.) When I creaked open the door, the light from the hallway fell right over his crotch. I had to cover my mouth to stop myself from gasping out loud. Dad was in his boxers, and he was laying on top of the sheets. And in those boxers, the plaid material was tenting straight up. I could practically see my dad’s erection throb through the thin material. It took all my willpower to stop myself from getting closer and putting my mouth around it. That image seared into my brain, and that night I masturbated for the very first time. Do you know how torturous it is to have your object of lust around you all the time, every day? Because Dad raised me as a single father, we were very close, and he was very affectionate. He would give me hugs all the time, and then lean down and kiss the top of my head, since I was so much shorter than him. I loved putting my arms around his thick torso, but I also wanted more. Definitely didn’t help that Dad was so comfortable around me that he would walk around the house sometimes in just his boxers. Gave me plenty of material for the spank bank, though. For my 13th birthday I got an Amazon gift card from an aunt that lived a couple of states away who I saw infrequently. Luckily it was just enough for me to make my own Amazon account and buy a dildo and some lube for myself. I made sure to get home early before my dad, so I could kadıköy travesti squirrel the box away to my room so he wouldn’t get suspicious. For years, that dildo was my best friend. I intentionally bought one that reminded me of the size of my dad’s cock – based on that memory of his tenting cock through his boxers that was as vivid as a picture in my head. After several false starts, I finally was able to adjust to the size. It made me feel so good to get stuffed full of silicone, I would always imagine it was my dad’s cock sliding in and out of me, his girthy dick stretching my boipussy out. I had to bury my head in my pillows to muffle my moans of “Dad…!” so he wouldn’t hear. When I was 15, I had had enough. I knew I couldn’t have my dad in the way I wanted him, so I decided to search for the next best thing. I downloaded Grindr on my phone and began my hunt. Thank God that Dad doesn’t know about parental controls! My profile was easy: “Slim, young twink looking for a daddy in his early 40’s to breed me.” I included a picture of myself shirtless, my pale white skin practically glowing, my tight flat stomach and round bubble butt making me the perfect breedable bitch. And I was right. Before I knew it, I got dozens, if not hundreds, of messages a day. Plenty of creeps and gross older guys, but there were a few that reminded me of my dad – the same age, masculine, hairy. Whenever Dad told me that he’d be back home late, I took advantage of that window. I’d invite a daddy over, making sure to answer the door in my tightest shorts that hugged my teen bubble butt. I loved the expression on their faces when they saw me – and realized how young I actually was. I’d lead them into my bedroom; even though I wanted to do it in Dad’s room, I knew I might get caught. I’d sit on my bed and beckon the daddy over, latching my mouth over his thickening cock in his jeans and get to work. I’d sucked dozens of daddy dicks since I started, and according to my earliest partners I was a born natural cocksucker. My lips were plump and I knew how to use my tongue and lips together to please a man. I even developed the uncanny ability to easily deepthroat huge cocks! Sometimes I’d suck a man to completion, swallowing down his daddy load, loving that warm feeling when his jizz settled in my stomach. Most of them, though, would hold off on cumming because they wanted a shot at bakırköy travesti my teen bubble butt. I loved it when I’d lay down on my stomach, and a daddy would pull my cheeks apart before shoving his tongue inside my hole. I couldn’t help but squirm as he made out with my boipussy, licking and sucking it, getting me wet and ready for his cock. My favorite part, though, was when he’d take his thick daddy cock and slide it into me. I would always close my eyes and imagine it was my dad finally sinking his girthy cock into me. All the daddies I fooled around with knew I had a serious daddy fetish – though they probably had no idea that when I asked them if I could call them “Dad” (not Daddy) it was because I lusted after my own real father. My little cock would be rock hard as the daddy slammed into me, pile driving his cock into my hole. My whole bed would shake and I’d groan and moan calls of “Dad” out loud. That always made the daddies fuck me even harder. I loved that feeling of being treated like a slut, a whore for dad’s cock, a fleshlight for his own sexual enjoyment. That feeling of being used always pushed me over the edge. When those daddies would sink their cocks into me and unleash their warm, sticky loads up my pussy, it was absolute heaven. I’d gotten used to cumming hands free, aided only by the friction of my cock on my bed sheets. The daddies seemed proud they were able to make me cum – but it wasn’t because of them. It was because every time they came in me; it was because I imagined that the load contained half of my DNA. I would always be blissed out and foggy after such an intense breeding session. The daddies would usually clean themselves up and leave. Sometimes they’d want to kiss me goodbye, or tell me how good I was. None of them ever wanted to cuddle, which was fine with me. I had my dad to cuddle with. Plenty of them would just put their clothes back on and leave, without a word. Of course, in my state of exhaustion from pleasure, I’d heard the door close once – indicating the daddy had left. However, I didn’t notice the door opening again – the sound just didn’t register to me. And while I was laying on my bed, face down, a huge load of daddy cum seeping out of my gaped boipussy, I didn’t realize that my dad would mistake my blissful moans of “Dad…” as me calling for him. And I definitely didn’t notice him opening the door, confronted with the image of his teen son, bred like a bitch, cum gushing of me, moaning for him over and over. Once the fog started to clear, I lifted my head and looked over my shoulder, shocked to see him standing there, but not nearly as shocked as he seemed to be. “Dad…?”

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