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e dgxnf kon qs gvavatiq uw yshhvltye gdeb - Jobs/Masturbation

Daddy, It Doesn’t Fit!

In my room, I redressed in sweat pants and a white t-shirt, staring at myself in the mirror. I had to talk to my daughter, sort this out. She had to know I wasn’t angry with her, just disturbed. She was just caught between a rock and a hard cock, but it was not going to be my cock that did the job.
“Cupcake?” I said as I opened her door.
She was on her bed, her face in her pillow. “Leave me alone.”
“Baby, can I talk to you for a second?”
“Why?” she said. “So you can tell me how disappointed you are and that I’m gross?”
I came in and sat on the edge of the bed and put my hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it away.
“Baby, you have to understand, you hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m sorry I said was disappointed in you.” See, I told you I’m a push over.
“But you are.”
“Look, when I was a teenager, I’ll be honest, my friends and I had competitions like this too. We’d pick out girls, see who could bang her first. I get where you’re coming from.”
Heather turned around. “Really?”
“Yes,” I said. It was not easy to talk about sex with my daughter, but I tried. “I once slept with a girl and she slept with all my friends…on different days, that is. And she did it because we wanted her to tell us which of us was the best. I can understand that this dare between you and your friends—”
“Who won the competition?”
“Who did the girl say was the best?”
“Honey, that’s not important. The point is—”
“Just tell me,” she said. “If you understand what I’m going through, tell me.”
“I won, but that’s not the point.”
“Why’d you win?”
I shook my head. My daughter was far too inquisitive. “I guess she liked my…size.”
“Anyway, I—”
“What does size have to do with it?” Heather asked.
“Heather, can we talk about you, not me?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Look, men come in different sizes. Even the guys on your video were different sizes.”
“Yours is different than theirs?”
“Everyone’s different. The point is, I understand the pressure you feel. And I understand you felt like you had no one to turn to but me, so I’m not mad at you, okay?”
“Really?” she said, her eyes big, her lips pouty.
“Yes, really.”
“Does that mean you’ll help me?”
“No,” I said quickly. “I’m just telling you I’m not angry.”
“But why won’t you help me?” she said, returning to her pouting.
“Baby, you have to realize what you’re asking me. Fathers and daughters don’t do that. It’s immoral.”
“I’m not asking to do it a lot, just this once,” she said. “And it’s only for a few minutes. I’ll do it like my friends did, put it in my mouth, suck on it, and then we’ll be done.”
“Give me your hand,” she said.
“Give it to me,” she said, taking it. She brought it up to her mouth and before I could even argue, she began sucking my index finger.
“Honey!” I tried to pull away but she held tight, her tongue licking along its length, her teeth grazing my nail, her lips tight around it. I yanked it out of her mouth. “Baby, enough.”
“See?” she said. “What’s the difference if I suck your finger or suck your cock? It’s just part of your body, right?”
“There’s a huge difference, and I don’t want you sucking my finger or my cock, er, penis, er, thing. I don’t want you sucking anything.”
“Why not?” she said. “What’s so wrong about it?”
“It’s incest.”
“It’s not sex, Daddy. It’s not in my pussy.”
“Please, baby, don’t use those words.”
“Why? What do you want me to call it?”
“I don’t care what you call it. That doesn’t matter. I just can’t do it. I can’t put it in your mouth. Fathers aren’t allowed to do that.”
“But I need you to, Daddy. I’m only asking for a few minutes. What’s wrong with that? Why can’t I put my father’s cock in my mouth for three minutes and record it? No one will know it’s you. You’ll be holding the camera, so no one will see your face. They’ll only see you from the waist down and I’ll tell them you’re my college boyfriend. And then we’ll be done.”
“Sweetie, I’ve got a better idea.”
“What?” she said.
“Why don’t you tell your friends on Monday that you had a big fight with your boyfriend and he broke up with you? Then, they won’t expect the tape.”
“I can’t tell them that. I told them yesterday on the phone I already recorded it.”
“Tell them you lost it.”
“They’ll know I’m lying. Daddy, please. I’m begging. Just let me put your cock in my mouth for three minutes. Only three. You can take it out afterward. You don’t even have to cum if you don’t want to. I’ll say I swallowed it or something.”“Jesus, Heather, I can’t believe you even want to do this. Aren’t you grossed out by the idea of sucking my cock?”
“Not really. I’d be more grossed out sucking some random guy’s cock than yours. And I love you, Daddy. You’ve always taken care of me. I really thought you might even like the idea. I thought boys liked getting blow jobs. I thought it might be nice if you were my first one.”
“Good Lord,” I said. “Okay, look. Here’s the bottom line. I can’t let you do it. It’s wrong.”
Her frown was large and her eyes were getting glossy. Tears were coming. “But why?”
“Because I’m your father.”
“Why other than that? If you weren’t my father, just my friend, would you let me do it?”
“I don’t know, baby.”
“No, just be honest. If you were my neighbor, not my father, and I asked, would you let me suck it?”
“I think if you asked any guy if you could suck his cock, he’d say yes.”
“Then that’s what I’ll do.” She climbed off the bed, putting on her shoes.
“Where are you going?”
“Next door to Mr. Jones’ house. I have to get a video of sucking a guy’s cock and he’s going to have to do.”
“Honey!” I stepped in front of the door. “Stop it, you’re not going out.”
“Get out of my way.”
“Why? If I can’t suck your cock, let me suck someone else’s.”
“He’s a stranger!”
“No he’s not. He says hello to me everyday when I come home from school.”
“He’s a pervert then, not a stranger. That’s even worse. What if he rapes you?”
“At least I’ll have it on tape. Move.”
“Damn it, Heather! Why are you doing this? Are your friends this important?”
“Why are you doing this, Daddy? Why are you saying no? This is important to me, but you’re not helping me!”
“Because I can’t! Because you’re my daughter!”
“I told you it doesn’t matter! I need help! Why aren’t you there for me?”
“Because you’ll regret it!” I was shouting now. I was trying to make her understand. “Even if I let you suck it, you might not regret it today, but you would tomorrow or maybe in ten years! Your friends don’t have to live with you forever! I do! How are you going to feel when you’re on your wedding night and you’re thinking of the time you sucked your father’s cock? You’d hate me for letting you do it!”
“I wouldn’t! I promise! Please, I have to do it! If I ever say I hate you, remind me I begged you and you had no choice! So please, Daddy, please, let me suck your cock. Just for one night, and I’ll never ask again, and I’ll remember when I needed you the most, more than any other time, you came through for me. That’s what I’m going to remember when I’m sucking my husbands cock in ten years, that my daddy was there for me. Or do you want me to remember how you failed me, how I had to go next door and suck Mr. Jones’ cock because my father wouldn’t help me? Which do you want me to remember?”
“Fine,” I said.
Heather smiled. “Really?”
“Yeah, fine, go suck Mr. Jones’ cock.” I stepped out of the way.
Her eyes burned. She charged past me, running down the hall, hitting the front door, disappearing outside.
“She’s not going to do it,” I said, leaning against the wall. “She can’t. Oh, my God.”
I left her room, hurrying to the living room, looking out the window. I could see her at Mr. Jones’ door, knocking. I prayed he wasn’t home, but then the door opened. Heather was saying something. And then she went in, the door closing.
“She’s really going to fucking do it! I can’t fucking believe this.”
I turned away, sitting down in the chair, burying my face in my hands, imagining my pure, innocent little girl sucking on Mr. Jones’ cock. No way! I jumped up, charging through the door, crossing the grass. I hammed my fist on the door.
“Open up!” I shouted. “Jones, if you don’t open up, I’m breaking this fucking door down!”
It opened. “Brad?”
His belt was loosened, but his pants were still on. I pushed him aside as I charged in. My little girl was sitting on his couch, her phone in hand, ready to record. She was glaring at me. I grabbed her by the arm, pulling her up.
“Brad,” Jones said, “she asked me to—”
“Just shut the fuck up.”
I dragged my daughter out of his house and crossed my yard. I shoved her through the door, slamming it behind me.
“You’ve lost your fucking ...
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