A Reluctant Daughter 3 - Sex Stories

A Reluctant Daughter 3

... stopping it, he had already pushed me past my threshold, my pussy clenched around his fingers, pulling them further in and covering them in my juices. Mary was my mother’s name. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ After that night I couldn’t bear to look at my father again. He had apologized profusely for his slip of tongue. He blamed the lack of sleep he had the night before, the fact that he had just had to please her, a fact he assured me he wanted no part of, heck he even blamed me for having a pussy that looked so much like my mothers. He blamed everything but the truth, which was that even if he loved me and loved doing me, he still loved my mother. There was no other way around it. It was the truth, and boy did it hurt. I knew I needed to get out of the house, if nothing else to clear my mind away from the twisted excuse we called a family. My aunt in Florida had no kids and had always begged me to come down and visit her. The day after the incident with my father I called her, and when she asked if my parents had agreed to the arrangement I said yes. My father wouldn’t dare fight me on this unless he wanted a full throttle meltdown. I would be gone for the whole month we had of Christmas vacation. A month to think of anything but my father. I let my parents know of my plans two days before I was set to leave. My aunt had already payed for the ticket, as I said she had no kids and no husband and was always looking for a way to spend her money. I told my parents over dinner. My mother was ...

... rather shocked at the revelation until I explained to her that Aunt Peggy had called me a couple days ago begging me to come over because she just couldn’t handle being alone anymore. I hadn’t wanted to miss Christmas with my family so of course I refused at first, but seeing her so distraught changed my mind and I decided to visit. My mother accepted the lie as truth and moved on but from a small glance at my father I could see the storm brewing behind his eyes. We hadn’t been together in nearly two weeks, not since he had said my mother’s name. It was the longest we had gone without a tryst in recent memory. I knew he must be hurting and a part of me hoped he was hurting physically as much as I was hurting emotionally. I just knew he would come to me that night so I put on a pair of button up sleep pants and a long sleeved shirt. I wasn’t going to give into his advances. If nothing else I was going to make it harder for him to get to my sex. Right on cue my father cracked open my door, it was 11:45pm. My mother typically went to sleep at 11:30 and as always he had waited fifteen minutes to make sure she was sound asleep before coming to me. Every action he took in our relationship was to make sure my mother wasn’t disturbed. Our silent fucking was evident enough. I had to stifle my screams so I didn’t wake her. I got sloppy seconds after her. Everything he did was for her. I couldn't bear to face him, aware that the minute I saw the hurt in his eyes my resolve would crumble ...