Father makes me a woman

F

Prologue

He’s mine.

He doesn’t know it yet, but I’m going to fuck his brains out tonight.

I’m already sorry for the damage I’ll cause my mother, but I can’t keep my frustrations hidden anymore. Ever since I’ve become aware of my sexuality, I’ve been in love with him, and now I’m ready to act on it. Apart from the obvious reasons, he doesn’t have any excuse to reject me. I turned eighteen months ago, I’m already out searching for a job, and I’m still a virgin.

That’s right. I made sure my pussy is as pure and smooth as it can possibly be – for this exact moment – and I want him to ruin me in ways I can typically only imagine. I’m not saying I didn’t play around with one or two dicks, but that has been the extent of my sexual exploration.

I am his, and his alone.

Now, I’m looking at my dad as he arranges the logs, getting them ready for the warm fire we’ll be cooking with later. And in the cold lake where I’m swimming, my body burns with excitement. My pussy is yearning with a lust only he can satisfy.

I look at his broad shoulders and his toned ass cheeks. I look at his mysterious blue eyes and his slightly fuller-than-normal lips. And I can already see his chiseled stomach and his strong chest underneath his shirt. But more specifically, I can see his big cock, throbbing with the same lust as my cunt.

I didn’t jump into this icy water wearing a small bikini for nothing. It was a strategic move that will probably see me stuck in bed with the flu for a few days. But I have some time before it strikes, so I have to use this small window of opportunity to lure him in, and mount him like a bitch in heat.

I’m going to make his muscles tense between my thighs, and milk his cock with my tight enclosure. I’ll make him howl like a wolf as he bursts with bolts of sperm into the uncharted spaces inside my pussy. And as a sign of appreciation, I’ll cream his dick. I’ll cream it so much he won’t be able to see the blood.

Chapter One

Taming the Beast

“Are we ready to pull out the beer and have ourselves a barbeque, soldier?”

I mimic the accent of an army general and I do a little march coming out the water. Oh yes, daddy is a marine, did I forget to mention that?

He laughs as he stands up to casually solute me.

“Sir, yes sir.”

I catch his eyes quickly scanning my body.

“You’re getting sloppy, soldier. Do you solute your wife with such anticipation?”

Playing the innocent daughter, I don’t waste time reaching for my towel and wrapping it around me. It really is a small bikini and I can feel my nipples pointing directly at the thirty six year old hunk.

“Are you kidding? Your mother might be many things, but she doesn’t stand for sloppy solutes.”

Camping has become an annual tradition, and for the last five years we’ve gone to five different places. My mother and brother dragged themselves along the first time, but they hate nature. After their first weekend they quickly found an excuse to promote it as special bonding time between daddy and me.

This year we’re at a beautiful lake, and although it’s not the most secluded, it will do. Other campers are scampered around, but luckily not close enough to meddle in my plans. Behind our two-man tent is a dense forest, an alternative place to fuck him if need be. And behind me resides a deep lake with crystal clear water, the perfect setting for an intense lust session.

Somehow, somewhere, I’m going to get him.

He looks rather disappointed as I cover most of my wet skin and sit down next to the unlit campfire.

“Here you go. But you only get one.” Daddy passes me a cold beer and lights up the neatly stacked wood.

“If you’re talking about a kiss, then okay. Just don’t blame me if you can’t get enough.”

An uncomfortable smile crawls onto his lips.

“I was actually talking about the beer, but now that you mention it…I think you’re underestimating my kissing abilities.”

Bingo.

He says the words I’ve been waiting for.

The time for casual flirting is over. I’ve been throwing signals his way for the last two months, testing his willingness to flirt back. Thus far he’s been playing it pretty cool, and that’s okay. I know he likes to look at me. Many guys do. If I had a dollar for every number I got, I’d be living much larger.

About the author

George B. J. Martin

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