Crissy's Weirdest Summer

This story is about a woman back from Freshman year at the university. Any sexual contact is of characters 18 years or older.

***

It had been a crappy start to my summer break. That summer was particularly weird, to say the least. I wished that I had stayed in my dorm and taken summer classes. During dinner my first night home, Mom and Dad explained they were divorcing. They had been living separate lives for a while and only stayed legally married for my brothers and me. Since I was the youngest and had gone off to the university, they no longer felt the need for pretense.

Mom hadn't even stayed for dessert. I sat stunned as she took her plates to the dishwasher. She kissed me on my cheek with promised to get together and walked out the door. I felt sick.

I looked at Dad and asked, "Where is she going?"

Dad answered, "She moved out a while ago. She is living with her partner, Kurt Bremer."

Kurt was her law partner. Dad worked at an investment firm and didn't technically have partners. He had worked his way up and had assistants, secretaries, and office aids, but no official partners.

I asked him, "So, is your new love arriving soon?"

He shook his head. "No, honey. This is my zone. No one in or out, but you and your brothers."

I said, "Thank you. That is so magnanimous of you." Then I asked, "But why no one?"

Dad said, "Oh, I have dated and I have had fun, but I don't want anything serious. We, your mother and I, parted on friendly terms and we both love you and your brothers. I just don't want any complications right now."

I asked, "So, were you and mom seeing people for a while? Mom didn't just up and move in with Kurt."

He was a little too still, but finally said, "We knew this was coming for a while. Your mother and I drew up papers so there was no confusion of where our lives were going. Your mom has been dating Kurt since you were a sophomore and I have dated other women off and on since that time."

It was almost too much to hear. "Do I know any of the women you have dated?"

He nodded, "I haven't dated anyone seriously, but I have dated your aunt Alice and Courtney's mother, Trish Culpepper."

Aunt Alice was mom's sister and it weirded me out to hear that Dad dated her. I assumed that meant that he banged her. Yuck.

Courtney was my best friend, she never told me her mom and my dad were dating. Her parents had been divorced since before she started school. Her mother had the reputation of being a partier. I couldn't see my conservative father, James McElroy, as dating a partier, but then I couldn't see Mom, Elizabeth Meyer-McElroy, doing the dirty with Kurt Bremer, either.

I swallowed hard and said, "Courtney never told me."

Dad said, "There was nothing to say. She never knew."

I tried to determine if Dad was lying, but I couldn't tell. I was horrible at reading people, especially lies. I planned my own surprise sweet sixteen-birthday party because mom lied to me.

Mom told me she had a case where the party planner messed up the sweet sixteen party for the daughter of the client. She wanted me to plan an elaborate, but fake affair. She told me not to worry about costs. She needed a baseline idea of what a girl my age would want for her special day to see how badly the planner had failed and how much in damages she planned to pursue for her client.

It was fun. I filled a three ring binder with party ideas. I suggested chocolate fountains, an informal buffet so the guests could pick their own foods, and I even included a magazine photo of the latest Prius Convertible in my favorite color, purple, as the perfect present.

The weekend of my birthday, we had reservations at the country club. The whole family went, including my two older brothers who made a point of coming back home for my birthday.

Prior to the party, they made such a big commotion about flying back. They said they had so many papers due for professors that I felt guilty for asking them to come to my birthday dinner. I even texted them to say they didn't have to come back because I didn't want them to stress over grades.

Both called me almost immediately apologizing and saying that they were just messing with me. I felt bad all the way up to my party because I thought they were lying to me about wanting to be there. I thought Mom and Dad made them come home. Turns out, they knew about the party, too.

Everyone got a kick out of the fact that I had planned my own party. I still hadn't realized that Mom and Dad used all my suggestions until they took me out to see the purple convertible with the giant red bow. My sweet sixteen didn't seem too happy now that I knew Mom and Dad had already been planning to separate or already had.

Kurt Bremer's large money gift made me think of a bribe not to hate him for banging my mom. Trish Culpepper stayed near our table more than she should have. Usually she was all over the wealthy men to the embarrassment of Courtney. Trish had been tame that night. Looking back, I believed it was because she was trying to be discreet for Dad while he was with the rest of his family.

I asked, "Do you care if I go out with Courtney tonight?" I hadn't made plans, but I wanted out of the house. It seemed depressing all of a sudden.

Dad shifted in his chair and said, "Courtney and her mom are away at a funeral. Trish wanted me to make sure you knew they would be back at the end of the week."

I couldn't help it when I said, "Ick, Dad. Are you still seeing her?"

Dad said, "Don't worry, Sweetie, it is nothing serious, just once a month or so. We date other people."

I gave him a serious look as I said, "So you want her around to bang when you can't find anyone else." It was crass, but Dad let me get away with a lot my whole life.

He nodded. "Yeah, that's about it."

I wasn't letting him off the hook for screwing my best friend's mom, "So you are just using her."

Dad said, "She gets her fun out of it. I also spend money on her and give her a few dollars when she is short on funds."

Trish was a lavish spender, mostly on herself. During Courtney's school days, Trish had spent money on Courtney to keep up appearances, but not after graduation. In my opinion, she wouldn't have spent any money on Courtney at all, but she wanted our social circle to accept her.

Courtney didn't get to go off to college this last year. Her mother had spent her college fund. It turned out that during the divorce proceedings that occurred before Courtney even started kindergarten, her father wanted to control the deposits and the account, but Courtney's mother had a lawyer who fought that request.

Her father was now suing her mother for misuse of funds from Courtney's college fund. His lawyer didn't believe that Trish would ever have the funds to repay Courtney the money directly, so the lawyer planned to petition the court to divert alimony from Trish directly to Courtney's college fund and giving control of the money to her father. They used the word "embezzlement" a great many times. It was a big mess.

I knew that Courtney wanted to move in with her father and his third wife, but Trish insisted she live with her. Child support stopped after Courtney graduated and now that it looked as though Trish would lose alimony as well, her only source of income was what Courtney's father offered his daughter.

Trish was worried about losing her house and she didn't believe that her ex-husband would allow Courtney to go homeless. Trish was strange like that. Of course, Courtney would not go homeless. After Trish lost the house, Courtney would move in with her father.

Trish didn't think like most women. She seemed to tie her self-worth into what a man spent on her and she refused to work for some reason. She had a four-year degree, but as soon as she graduated, she married Courtney's father and that was the end of any career ambitions on her part. She gave birth to Courtney a year later, left her job at the bank, and became a stay at home mom, raising Courtney, but her daughter was all grown up now.

Dad spending money on Trish sounded too much like prostitution to me and I had to force myself not to shiver. "So, do you care if I go out and find some friends or do you want me home?"

Dad shook his head, "You don't have to be here. We dropped a bomb on you and I know you have to try to figure it out in your own way."

Later that night, Toby, a close friend, had picked me up and we went back to his basement and drank. His parents weren't home and I wanted to get drunk. He wanted me to slow down, but I had a goal in mind: inebriation. He tried making the moves on me, but I wasn't in the mood. Therefore, I pretended to be sick and being the nice guy he is, Toby drove me back home.

We stumbled up the garage steps. Well, I stumbled. He held me up on my two feet. I couldn't get my key in the lock, but I had the foresight to remember that I had to reset the alarm quickly or a piercing sound would stab through my head. I didn't want to wake up dad so I thought about the code as I struggled with the key.

I'm not sure how, but Toby got the door open and helped me inside. The door closed and he pressed his hand on my back to hold me steady against the wall. I wanted to warn him the alarm would sound and wake dad, but I heard the beeping of the buttons as he reset the alarm.

I wobbled and said, "Toby, I really wanted to have sex tonight, but I thought it might take too long to get my mind in the right spot for us to enjoy it."

He rubbed my arms and helped me through the house, up the stairs, and down the hall to my room. He opened the door for me. I noticed he had the same watch Dad had when he reached for my door, but I forgot to ask him about it a moment later when the colors of my room crashed into me. When the lights came on, the purple, pinks, and reds violently hurt my eyes. I cringed and covered my face with my hands and he clicked the lights back off.

I had always loved bright colors and had decorated my room with the brightest and loudest colors I could find. Unfortunately, the scotch running through my veins didn't like the bright colors as much as I did.

In the dark room, he tried to help me to the bed, but I tripped and we fell to the floor. I fell; he guided me to a soft landing. I placed a hand on my mattress in order to stand, but he pressed my shoulders to keep me on the floor.

He knelt behind me and pulled me against his hard chest. I hadn't realized Toby had such a broad chest, but liked the feeling of pressing against him. He kissed my neck. For a fleeting moment, I worried about Dad walking in on us, but then he placed one hand under my shirt and over my bra to cup my breast. He caressed me. He moved his other hand down my stomach, under my skirt, and inside my panties. He found my clit and made small circle motions that felt amazing. Toby had learned some things since the last time we hung out.

I moaned and said, "Oh, Toby. That feels so good."

Then my night did another nosedive into a horrible place as Dad said, "I'm not Toby, baby."

I screamed and jumped forward onto my hands and knees. I crawled a few feet and turned so I was sitting looking up at my dad. I wish that I could say he killed my mood, but he didn't. Dad was sitting on his haunches looking at me cautiously. My eyes drifted to the bulge in his jeans.

I'm not sure why I got an intense heat between my legs, but I released a shaky breath and my hand found its way between my legs. I tried to ease my sudden need by pressing my hand over my clit and rubbing it through my panties. Dad watched for just a moment. Then he suddenly grabbed my wrist and I thought he was going to get mad at me.

Instead, he pulled me to him in one swift motion lifted and tossed me onto my bed. I screamed in surprise, but I didn't move away when he joined me. He didn't touch me immediately, but he looked at me with an intense scrutiny. Unfortunately, I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Then he said, "Honey, we don't have to do anything. If you still want to cum, I can help without making love to you."

I should have shut up and not said anything, but I couldn't do that, not me. I blurted out, "Dad, I might be drunker than I think. I couldn't get the key in the lock, but don't say making love. I want you wild...Fucking me." I couldn't believe I said that to him. If I had just shut up, he might have changed his mind and left. Dorky me, I couldn't censor myself.

Dad let out a groan and pressed his lips down on mine, hard. I was startled and the kiss hurt a little. I tried to push him away to tell him, but he grabbed my hands and slammed them onto the bed by my shoulders.

I got a little scared. I wanted to clarify that I needed him to slow down, but it's hard to talk with your father's tongue ramming deep into your mouth. I tried to move thinking that I could scoot from under him. Huge fail. I wasn't that strong and all I did was press my clit against his bulge causing me to moan. Dad got rougher. He sat up just far enough to yank my shirt open. Buttons flew everywhere.

Dad said, "I changed the locks."

His comment didn't register right away so I said, "Dad, please. Maybe we should be calmer."

He slowly shook his head. "No. You suggested this and I'm going to do what I have wanted to do to you for a while."

That statement caught me off guard. He had been thinking of doing things to me. He started to lean back over me and I tried to brace him with my arms. I wanted to ask him what he meant.

He yanked my white cotton oxford up entangling my hands in the sleeves defeating my attempt at bracing him. He dropped onto me and locked his mouth on mine, again. I futilely tried to pull my hands out, but Dad twisted my shirt trapping my hands more. I wasn't sure how he did it, but he tied my hands to my headboard with my shirt before moving his hands to my bra.

I expected him to tear it apart or yank it off. Instead, he rolled it up to the top of my breasts creating a tight band. It looked like he tied a rope around my breasts that forced them to bulge slightly.

He scooted down and brutally groped my breasts while taking turns sucking on my nipples. I gasped. Between his rough uncontrolled behavior and the sensations on my breasts, I wanted him to do more. I didn't want to calm him or stop him any longer.

Dad said, "Beg me to suck your tits."

I barely had enough air to keep from passing out. I swear I saw stars blinking in my eyes as I panted trying to breathe. I was able to give a harsh whispered, "Dad, suck my breasts."

He stopped everything and I moaned in disappointment. He slowly raised his head and said, "No, baby. You have to say 'tits' or I won't give you what you need."

I felt a strange desperation and said, "No, Dad, please don't stop."

He said, "Say it."

This time, I was much louder than I expected as I called out, "Dad, suck my tits!" The burning in my body frustrated me.

He said, "Good girl," and went back to my tits. He was so brutish it almost hurt, but I was so turned on I didn't care. Relief flooded me as sucked away.

Dad scooted farther down my body. He kissed my skin, bit gently, and squeezed my flesh. At times, I was almost scared thinking he would lose control and actually hurt me. I think he had more control than he was letting on, though, because he seemed to know what I wanted him to do. He would slow or speed up his kisses, increase or decrease the pressure of his bite, or gentle or roughen his touch. I was at his mercy.

He didn't bother to remove my skirt. He lifted it and then ripped off my panties. That part actually hurt. The fabric burned my thighs as the force caused a friction burn on both of my inner thighs. I did cry out in pain, but it sounded like excitement to my own ears so I knew Dad couldn't tell the difference.

He didn't bother to remove my shoes or socks. He told me, "Bend your legs and spread them." I did. I wanted him to kiss me between my legs so badly. I needed him to do it.

Dad said, "Beg me to eat your pussy and make sure you say it right."

As much as I wanted to feel his mouth on me, I felt uncomfortable with the thought of saying those words. I had never said them to any guy, so saying them to Dad was extra strange, but then again, the whole scenario was strange. I could barely whisper as I said, "Please, Dad, eat my pussy." Then I added, "Eat my pussy until I cum."

Dad smiled and said, "Nice! Good girl." He liked that bit of improve on my part.

This time, he lowered himself slowly building anticipation. My fast breath became a heavy pant. As soon as his lips touched my clit, I cried out. I tried to lift my hips to buck against him, but he moved an arm to pin me against the bed. I moaned with frustration, but he didn't change what he was doing.

He taunted me by licking up my slit and then sucking my clit through his lips repeatedly. I was so close and I sounded desperate to my own ears. I moaned, whimpered, and squealed, but then I felt it building. The wonderful sensation of my impeding climax tingled in my pussy.

He knew. I saw it in his eyes. He pressed his mouth hard against me, made a sucking vacuum to pull my clit into his mouth, and pressed his tongue in a circular motion over the swollen bulb. It felt so good. I arched my head back, bucked into his face, and screamed as I came.

He didn't stop. He was relentless and I thought I was going to die as I became overly sensitive. I thrashed trying to get him to stop.

I begged him, "Please stop licking me there." He shook his head and continued. Then I remembered about saying specific words and I said, "Please stop licking my pussy, Daddy."

He stopped and worked his way up my body kissing a path to my mouth. I had never tasted my own sex before. I was shocked, but forgot about it when he rammed himself into my hole. I cried out from the overwhelming sensation of invasion.

Then I remembered about pregnancy and said, "Condom! Condom! Don't knock me up."

Dad said, "Vasectomy, after you came along."

So I countered with, "Condom because of your other lovers."

Dad countered with, "I use condoms with them, but I want to feel all of you. Other than you mother, I have used condoms with everyone."

He moved slowly in and out making deep moaning noises and I asked, because I was worried, "Can't vasectomies reverse on their own?"

Dad stopped and looked at me. "They can if they aren't done correctly. The doctor checked me five years afterwards and I was fine. Then Trish thought she was pregnant, even though we always used protection and it never broke. So I had it checked out again last fall, before you went off to school. I'm good. You have nothing to worry about with me."

The statement "last fall" should have sent up a red flag. Last fall was when all of Trish's problems started with her husband and with money.

I relaxed, but hearing of Trish killed the mood. Dad knew. He grabbed my face and kissed me hard. The he rammed into me with a zeal I wouldn't have thought he still had for his age. He isn't old, but he isn't young like the guys I dated. I moaned with each thrust. He moaned back. I wasn't sure if he was enjoying it as much as me or making noise because I did.

Then Dad' breath came harder and he said, "Fuck, Crissy, you're going to make me cum."

I replied, "Yes, Daddy, do it. Cum in my pussy."

One hand remained on the back of my head and I felt the muscles in his arm tighten. He moved the other arm under my back, gripped me hard as if trying to crush me against him, and roared, "Arrrhhh!" while slamming into me.

I never knew I was multi-orgasmic. I heard stories, but I thought those were just people bragging up their sex lives.

I felt that familiar tingle in my pussy building with an extra heat. Dad knew something was going on because he suddenly tried to regain control and that extra effort took his voice and made it breathy and harsh, "Do it Crissy. Cum for me, again. Please, baby, cum for Daddy."