Happy Fathers’ Day 2020 by I Ain’t Write

The drive is fun. We’ve always had a good time together alone. We have similar interests, and senses of humor spawned in the darkest abyss of hell – we laugh the whole way.

We check into the hotel at nearly 10 PM. The plan is to get a good sleep and have an early breakfast as the pancake house across the street.

While we get sorted, I make us Makers and Coke, of course I allow you to drink. You’ve always been mature for your age. Now, at 18, you showed no signs of over indulgence. I trust you with a few cocktails.

You take a shower and change into your pajamas that shave off a couple of your already short years. Your hair is pulled back in a ponytail.

I’m reclining on one of the queen beds with my laptop resting on my thighs. I’m sipping a fresh drink and there is one on the nightstand for you.

“Come sit next to me, babe. I want to show you something,” I pat the empty space on the bed beside me. You dive in and roll close to me so we can share the screen on the small Lenovo. I pass you the drink and open the browser in the computer.

The screen populates several rows of .mpg files.

“Movie night!” You squeal in delight. “Damn, we should have got popcorn!” You snuggle in closer to me resting your head on my shoulder, my right arm cradling you. Your ponytail slides down and tickles my neck as I reach down with my left hand to stroke the mouse and launch the first clip.

The player pops us and we are greeted by a slightly fuzzy video of a young girl, 7 years old, climbing out of a tent.

“Grand Canyon!” You scream, nearly spilling your drink over us both.

“It is!” I agree. The video abruptly cuts to you dancing in a Jingle Dress at a Hopi Pow Wow which brought a cascade of laughter from you.

“Where did you get these, Dad?” Your voice suddenly taking on a more serious tone. “Are there more?”

“I was clearing out some junk out of the basement and I ran across a bunch of old, HD video tapes.” I replied, as I casually took your ponytail in my right and stroke down the length of it, gently pulling as I went. “I cut a few clips on Movie Maker.” I tightened my grip in your hair and rotated your head to face me. “Wait till you see this one.”

I launched the next clip. Suddenly, there you were in a powder blue summer dress. The bodice clung snugly to your torso, accenting the budding swells of your breasts, the skirt flared out in perfectly creased pleats. You had on a pair of cream high heel shoes that made your legs wobble as you “modeled” for the camera in our kitchen.

“Holy shit, dad!” Your mouth fell open as you stared at the screen.

“Your first date.” I said, almost solemnly. On video, you did a nice little spin that sent your skirt rippling around you, but you lost your balance and ended up on your ass. Both of us threw are heads back laughing. The clip ended.

“I remember that dress like it was yesterday!” You said, then adding. “And my first pair of high heels…not very graceful was I?”

“You’ve always floated like an angel to me, love.” I smile at you. “That dress…that dress has always been my favorite dress for you. I have some kind of thing about pleats.” I mused as I absently stroked the length of your ponytail.

“A…turn on..thing, Dad?” You asked, carefully.

“I find pleats to be very flattering, and you wore it very well. And the shoes! Do you remember what I told you about the shoes?” I challenged.

“Of course, I do, it was a little weird.” You looked at me then, mild confusion danced in your eyes as if you sensed that this conversation was headed into uncharted, perhaps dangerous waters, but nothing real to base your feelings on. As you spoke, I casually coiled the length of your ponytail around my hand, a little more tightly this time. “You said, if my date got out of line, tried something I didn’t like and you needed to run, make sure you kick of those shoes! You’ll never make it far in them young lady.” We smiled at each other.

“I thought it was sage-advice.” I shrugged. You rose up and gave me a quick peck on the cheek, then snuggled back into my neck.

“It was good advice.” You moved slightly and felt you rest your palm on the middle of my chest. “I still lose my balance of those fucking things -oops, sorry.” You sniggered.

“Language, young lady.” I squeezed you closer. It seemed the drinks had loosened your tongue a bit.

“What’s going on, dad?” You asked, softly.

“What do you mean?” I said in my most carefully nonchalant voice.

“I can feel your heart under my hand. It’s beating so fast, so hard.” I felt you press down on my chest gently. Had I denied that anything was amiss, I would have been lying and you knew me well enough to see the lie, so I said nothing. The truth; I was scared shitless. I had no idea how you would react to what I would do next, but I was certain that it would change the dynamics of our relationship, irreversibly. I cinched your hair around my fist tightly enough to raise a soft moan from you. “Careful, Dad, that feels good, but not so hard. It hurts a little.” I smiled privately. It hurts little. I thought to myself, “You have no idea.”

“Watch this one, baby, it’s my absolute favorite.” I opened the file and the player popped up. The images in this video were sharply focused and very recent. You appeared, kneeling on the pink rug beside your bed dressed in a white, cotton nightgown. That’s all you needed to see to recognize it for what it was.

“Dad!” You screamed, as you tried to propel your body towards the laptop, but I held you fast by your hair while squeezing your body tightly next to mine with my arm. I was 42, but I was in great shape; strong and agile. You weren’t going anywhere. “Stop the video, Dad!” On the screen, you pulled the hem of the nightgown up and over your head, you were naked beneath. You spread your knees so wide as you knelt until they were perpendicular to your body. And my God, your body was perfect, petite and tight. Your breasts were still little more than the budding swells you displayed beneath a powder blue dress in the previous video. But your pale pink areolas were the size of half-dollars, your nipples, thick and rising. Lower, your hips flared impossibly, the bones sharply defined beneath your skin. The swell of your mound had been waxed perfectly smooth. Your image was without blemish.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay,” I repeated over and over again as I pinned you to me.

On the screen, you had picked up a very long and thick, purple dildo. You raised your body a few inches, and then wedged the base into the nap of the rug, pointing the tip up toward the folds of your beautifully shaped pussy. I swallowed hard.

“Turn it off! Please, daddy! Please!” You cried out to me. I yanked your hair to turn your face to me once again. What came out of my mouth was more of a hiss than a voice.

“You fucking stop this screaming right now! Do you hear me?” I moved our faces very close together. “I know you didn’t make a video like this to keep only for yourself. You’ve shared it with others, so don’t you dare feign embarrassment with me, you little, fucking slut!” Your eyes were wide with hurt, disbelief and outright terror. “You’re going to watch this with me, and then we are going to talk. Until then. Not a fucking word.” I tightened my grip in your hair and I shook my fist for emphasis. “Is that clear, cunt?” Slowly, you nodded affirmatively. “Good,” I said in something that was more closely to my voice. “I told you, this is my favorite clip, don’t ruin it.” I turned you back to look at the screen and rested your head on my chest.

The previous videos had no sound; this one did. I had the volume leveled out well over 50%. We could hear your breath and quiet whimpers as you worked the tip of the dildo through your folds, seeking a deeper place. When you found it, a long moan escaped your throat. You didn’t know it at the time, but I had watched this video, ad nauseum, since I had discovered it on my iCloud Drive; every move and every sound you made was seared into the memory cells of my now wantonly debauched mind. I didn’t know the mechanics of how you accidentally uploaded the video to my account, but I had become obsessed with it from the moment I clicked play.

On the screen, we watched you pulled your lips in and give an “Mmmmm…” as you ground your pelvis down toward the floor, and several inches of the dildo disappeared into your body. You bounced quickly on your knees once the tip was securely lodged inside you, driving down further with each repetition until you were taking all but a few inches of the toy. The bounces changed in favor of longer, more purposeful strokes. Your clit had risen from its sheath, glistening in the light of your room.

I lifted my hips slightly from the bed, just enough that I could push my pajamas and boxers down to my thighs. My cock rose up from my groin like a creature that had been rudely awakened. Seven and a half inches long, and thick as your wrist, it hovered there, softly breathing in time with my heartbeat. Pre-cum, rich and thick drooled from tip.

“Dad?” You whimpered, so quietly, it was nearly lost beneath the guttural, deep moans emitting from the Lenovo’s speaker system. I loosened your ponytail from around my hand. Once it was free, I slid my hand down your back, beneath the waistband of your pajamas to palm your ass. Your skin was soft and cool.

“Remember what I had said. Not a word. This is the best part and there’s only 20 seconds left.” I said sternly.

Just then, on the screen, you reared backwards, your hands hitting the floor behind you for support. Your ribcage jutted forward and your breasts disappeared completely, save the erect nipples, now pointing directly to the ceiling. My cock rose and fell back onto my stomach, still leaking. I traced the contours of your ass with my fingers.

Your moans had become drawn out screams now as your rode the dildo closer to your need with each stroke. Suddenly, your body tightened, each muscle clenched and became defined. You trembled for a moment, then quickly looked at the door as if you might have heard a sound. You pulled your knees in together which gave you plenty of room to pull the dildo free from your body. You crawled toward the camera, smiled into it and said, “Oh, fuck yeah.” You reached out to the camera and…fade to black.

What relief you felt when the video finished, was ephemeral. The player winked out and disappeared, but just as quickly, it popped back and there you were again, dressed in the cotton nightgown, reaching for the hem. Yes. I had this bitching little clip on automatic replay.

“Dad!” You demanded. I wasn’t going to have any of your shit. I pulled my hand from your ass and coiled your hair back around my wrist.

“You can’t seem to listen.” The hiss was back. “I said not a word while we watch the clip.” I slowly pushed your head down my chest, then continued, sliding you further in the direction of my aching cock. “I watched you grow up from a little girl, into a beautiful young woman. Yes, sometimes I looked at you a bit too long. Yes, I’ll admit that sometimes, in my darkest fantasies, you were there. And I was wracked with guilt; how could a father think that way about his precious, young lady?” I continued guiding your head lower, and now, resting on my belly, I could feel your hot breath bathing the tip of my cock. I slowed my push. Why? Perhaps to torture; torture you or myself, I couldn’t say. “But, you’re NOT my precious, young lady, are you? No, you’re just another slut who likes to rapebait every sick motherfucker out there by posting videos of you fucking yourself for them to see. For everyone to enjoy. What you need to know is that I brought you here, specifically, to watch this together. Alone.”

On the Lenovo, you reared back again to force the tip of the dildo against your magical spot with each pass.

“We are going to watch this until I cum…in your mouth, my little bitch-slut. My little thot-girl. My little cunting-whore.” I felt the tip of my cock bump against your warm lips. I would have my answer soon. I was either about to enjoy the most incredible few days of my life, or I was going to be sitting in the lobby downstairs, waiting for the police to arrive once you’ve call them.

Then, I felt the head of my cock enclosed in the hot, wet warmth of your mouth. I felt you seal your lips around my corona. I felt your tongue dig into my urethra to gather the pre-cum streaming from me. We screamed together then. Yours coming from the Lenovo, mine from the very core of my body. My little slut on the screen came, and so did I. Filling your mouth to overflowing. This was going to be a trip to remember.

Happy Father’s Day/