Daddy Tame His Slutty Daughter

The house was quiet when I got home from work that Friday evening. My wife Lillian had left two days earlier for another one of her “wellness retreats,” the kind where the staff monitored her meds and kept her from spiraling. Frank was at his girlfriend’s for the weekend. That left me alone with Florence.

My oldest. Twenty years old. Home from college for the summer, or what was left of it. She had been living like a fucking animal the entire time she was away. I knew because the rumors reached me through mutual friends of Frank’s, through the occasional late-night text from concerned mothers, through the way Florence herself laughed it off when I asked.

She fucked. A lot. Different guys every weekend. Parties. Group things once or twice. She had sent me the nudes her photographer friend had taken—tasteful at first, then not. I had looked. I had jerked off to them more than once and hated myself for it. Then I had looked again.

That night she was stretched out on the living-room couch in nothing but one of my old dress shirts, the tails barely covering the tops of her thighs. Long dark hair spilled over the armrest. Olive skin. Full tits that strained the buttons. She looked up from her phone and smiled the same smile she used to give me when she was little and wanted something.

“Hey, Daddy.”

I set my keys down. “You’re not wearing pants.”

“It’s hot.” She sat up. The shirt rode higher. I saw the bare crease where thigh met hip. No panties. “You want a beer? I stocked the fridge.”

I took one. She watched me drink it, eyes bright, lips parted just enough that I could see the tip of her tongue. The air between us felt thick. I had been hard off and on all day thinking about those pictures. About the way she had asked, casually, if I thought she looked good naked. About the way she had told me over lunch that her pussy got wet when older men looked at her like they wanted to bend her over.

I sat in the armchair across from her. She stretched, one leg sliding along the couch cushions, and the shirt rode all the way up. Smooth, shaved cunt. Puffy outer lips. A little shine already on the inner ones.

“Florence.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re flashing me.”

She didn’t close her legs. “You’ve already seen it. In the pictures. You looked, right? You said the lighting was good.”

“I looked.”

“Did you get hard?”

The question hung there. I could have lied. I could have stood up and gone upstairs and locked the door. Instead I said, “Yes.”

She smiled wider. “Good. Because I’ve been thinking about your cock since I was sixteen and first saw it when you got out of the shower. I used to touch myself thinking about it. Still do.”

My mouth went dry. “You’re my daughter.”

“And you’re my daddy. And you’re lonely. Mom’s gone half the year. You haven’t fucked anyone properly in forever. I can smell how badly you need it.” She swung her legs off the couch and stood. The shirt hung open enough that both heavy tits were half visible, dark nipples already tight. She walked over and straddled my lap without asking permission. The heat of her bare cunt settled right over the ridge of my cock through my pants.

“Florence—”

She kissed me. Soft at first, then open-mouthed, tongue sliding against mine like she had practiced. I tasted mint and something sweeter. Her hands went to my belt. I should have stopped her. I grabbed her wrists instead and held them while she ground down, soaking the front of my trousers.

“I’ve been a slut,” she whispered against my mouth. “A real fucking slut. I’ve let boys at school use me. I’ve sucked dick in cars. I’ve taken two at once. But none of them own me. None of them made this pussy. You did. It’s yours if you want it.”

I released her wrists. She got the belt open, zipper down, and pulled my cock out. Thick, already leaking. She stared at it the way a starving person stares at food.

“Fuck, Daddy. It’s bigger than I remembered.” She stroked it once, twice, spreading the precum. Then she rose up, lined the head against her slit, and sank down in one slow, wet slide until I was buried to the root inside my daughter’s cunt.

We both groaned. Her walls fluttered and clenched, ridiculously tight and soaked. She braced her hands on my shoulders and started to ride—short, grinding circles that rubbed her clit against the base of every stroke. The shirt fell open completely. I cupped her tits, thumbs over the nipples, and she arched into the touch.

“That’s it,” she breathed. “Use me. Tame your slutty daughter. Make me stop being a whore for every guy with a pulse.”

I thrust up hard. She gasped and bounced harder. The wet sounds filled the quiet house—slap of skin, the filthy squelch of her cream coating my shaft. I gripped her hips and fucked up into her like I was trying to rearrange her insides. She took every inch, moaning “Daddy” over and over, voice breaking every time the head of my cock dragged across the spot that made her thighs shake.

She came first, sudden and violent, cunt locking down so tight I almost followed. Cream flooded out around my cock and soaked my balls. I kept thrusting through it, forcing the orgasm longer until she was crying out and clawing at my shoulders. When she finally slumped against my chest I stood, still buried inside her, and carried her upstairs to the master bedroom—the bed I shared with her mother.

I dropped her on her back, yanked the shirt off, and shoved her legs wide. Then I fucked her properly. Deep, punishing strokes that made her tits bounce and her mouth fall open. She reached down and spread her own pussy lips so I could watch my cock disappear into her. The sight almost finished me.

“Talk dirty,” I ordered.

“I’m your fucktoy,” she moaned. “Your personal cumdump. I’ve been letting boys cream my pussy and then coming home and wishing it was yours. Breed me if you want. I don’t care. Just keep fucking me.”

I flipped her onto her hands and knees. The view of her swollen, dripping cunt and the tight little star of her asshole made something primitive snap inside me. I lined up and drove back in. One hand fisted in her hair, the other cracked across her ass hard enough to leave a red print. She pushed back to meet every thrust, begging for more.

I reached under and rubbed her clit in tight circles. She came again, squirting this time, a hard gush that soaked the sheets and my thighs. I pulled out, flipped her again, and shoved my cock into her mouth so she could taste herself. She sucked greedily, eyes locked on mine, gagging when I pushed too deep but never pulling away.

When I was close I dragged her off and pushed back into her cunt. Three hard thrusts and I buried myself to the hilt and flooded her. Thick ropes of cum pumping deep. She wrapped her legs around me and held me there, milking every drop with rhythmic squeezes of her pussy.

We stayed locked together while our breathing slowed. My cock softened inside her and slipped free; a thick river of our mixed juices leaked out onto the mattress. She reached down, scooped some onto her fingers, and licked them clean.

“Round two?” she asked, voice already husky again.

I was still half hard. She noticed and grinned. She rolled onto her stomach, propped her ass up, and reached back to spread her cheeks.

“You’ve always wanted to try this. Mom never let you. I will.”

I spat on her asshole, worked one finger in, then two. She pushed back onto them, moaning. When she was open enough I pressed the head of my cock against the tight ring and pushed. Slow. Relentless. The resistance gave and I sank into the hottest, tightest hole I had ever felt. Florence’s whole body shuddered.

“Fuck—Daddy—so full—”

I fucked her ass with long, deep strokes while she rubbed her clit. The dual sensation of her clenched sphincter and the soft give of her insides drove me crazy. I reached around and pinched her nipples hard. She came with a broken scream, ass spasming around my cock. I followed seconds later, pumping another load into her bowels.

We collapsed. I stayed buried in her ass until I softened completely. When I finally pulled out, cum leaked from both her holes. She looked ruined and radiant.