Child of the Storm - Sex Stories

Child of the Storm

Even though I knew my hair was a mess and I smelled very bad, I ran forward and embraced my father. The rest of the refugees getting off the bus were in a similar state and like my father, their loved ones didn’t care either. “No luggage?” He asked gently. I shook my head. “The storm didn’t leave anything, I was lucky to get to the bus station before it hit. Everything I own is probably scattered over two states.” I hadn’t wanted to think about the wreckage of my life on the ride here, but now I broke down and cried. Daddy held me and as I let it all out. I barely remember getting home and taking a shower then climbing into an outfit still left in my room, then into bed. I woke up and the sun was streaming in through my old bedroom window. I was just as I had left it, the soiled clothes of yesterday on the floor just making it seem more like high school. Mom never did get me to use the hamper she bought me. The corner was good enough. I sighed. With my recently rented bungalow now matchsticks and my fancy new job in limbo, thinking of my mother fit right in with my melancholy mood. I had loved my mother, but dying of cancer just before my senior year of high school kinda screwed me up a bit. I acted out, slept around, but my father set me down and we talked, ranted and screamed. Seems we both had issues with her leaving us, as unfair to mother as that was, but we worked a lot of things out that evening, and our relationship took a turn for the better. We became closer than ...

... ever. I got back on track scholastically, went to college and found a great new job on the lovely coast of North Carolina. Good move that one. I stretched and threw the covers off, luxuriating in the warmth of the sunshine coming in through the skylight my room. I looked down at what I had put on last night, a cotton superman tanktop and matching underwear. They had clearly been a set for a boy. I know, because I had stolen them from an old boyfriend. When I stood, I knew the front always looked a little poochy, because they had been made to hold boy parts, but I always pulled them up high and tight on my hips. I had always felt sexy in them as my big ole titties spilled out the sides. They were a little faded and very soft from lots of washings. I used to tease daddy with them. I remember seeing him try to hide his erection and for some reason that got me a little horny. However, what I really needed to do was pee, and get something to eat. After hitting the bathroom, I headed down to the kitchen and put some bread in the toaster. As I waited for it to get ready, I let my hand drift down into my little boy undies. I was stroking my clit ever so lightly when I suddenly felt a hand of the back of my neck press my upper body down on the countertop. “Still teasing me with that goddamn outfit I see.” Daddy’s voice was harsh, and I could smell that he had been drinking. When had he started drinking I thought as I began to struggle. The hand only pressed down harder, I couldn’t get ...