Danielle and the Love Shack

Dad started licking up and down faster and faster, leading me closer and closer to cumming. Involuntarily, I started grinding my hips, shoving my pussy into Dad's face while he focused on licking my clit over and over again.

Given its welcome reception earlier in the day, I started talking dirty again. "Fuck yes, eat my pussy, Dad," I cried. "Make me cum; make your daughter cum in your face, Dad." If I wasn't in so much pleasure, I would've felt like such an idiot saying things like that. But I got what I wanted; Dad increased the pace even more.

I could hear him panting now, breathing through his mouth while he furiously licked my clitoris. I was just as breathless as he was, sitting there open-mouthed, moaning and groaning with pleasure as my father used his tongue to get me off. It seemed that he wanted to make me cum even more than I wanted to, which I didn't think was possible.

Finally, his tongue's huge effort was rewarded. For the third time that day, I screamed out as an explosion of pleasure radiated out from my crotch, filling my entire body. Again, I convulsed, my vagina contracting as I was swept up in the orgasmic wave. I threw my head back against the wall, staring through the stained ceiling of our Love Shack, shoving Dad's head into my crotch as hard as I could, grinding his face as I came.

Dad let me catch my breath before suggesting that we try a bit of doggy style. It had been forever since we'd done that, so he was keen to try it again. I agreed, it had been too long since I let him do his favourite position, so I sat up, moved away from the wall a bit, got onto my hands and knees, and presented myself to Dad.

He came up behind me, lined up his cock with my pussy, and entered me again. He grabbed my hips and started thrusting. Quick, fast thrusts, hard, making my whole body jiggle and bounce. I was still exhausted from Dad giving me oral, so I just let him fuck me for a while, not really having the energy to fuck him back just yet.

Looking down, I could see my necklace dangling down, swaying with each thrust. Beyond my necklace, I watched as my breasts bounced and jiggled while Dad fucked my pussy from behind. He fucked me hard, almost as hard as he had when I was riding him. I cried out constantly, enjoying the feeling of Dad taking control properly for once. He gathered my hair up into a sort of ponytail and used my hair for balance while he fucked me harder yet. He groaned long and loudly, thrusting his big dick deep inside me.

I soon found the energy to tighten my pussy and start thrusting my body backwards into his cock; he moaned "Fuck yes" a few times, so I guess that means he appreciated it. My knees quickly grew sore from the hard floor, but I just ignored the pain and focused on the pleasure. Shifting my balance onto one arm, I brought one hand back to my clit and started rubbing myself while Dad fucked me. The loud, wet sounds of my ass smacking into his body were almost drowned out by both Dad's and my vocalising. I rubbed my clit faster and faster, tightening my pussy around my father's dick - the big, hard penis that shot a load of cum almost 19 years ago to make me.

I knew that Dad wanted to last as long as he possibly could, but at the rate we were going, I didn't think he could hold out much longer. Of course, I didn't want to slow down, and I doubt he did either. So I kept rubbing my clit, and soon I was right on the verge of cumming. "I'm gonna cum soon, Dad," I cried.

"Good girl, cum for me," he replied, breathless and moaning.

Within the next 20 seconds, I was there again - the explosion of pleasure from my clit, involuntary screaming, pussy tightening and convulsing. The first two of the day were great, but I always cum better when Dad's cock is inside me. So yeah, this time it was insane. I swear, it lasted close to a minute, just non-stop waves and waves of pleasure washing over me, reducing me to a quivering mess. Apparently my orgasm was too much for Dad to handle too, because the next thing I knew, he was just yelling the word "cumming." Then I felt it. Shooting straight into my vagina, six or seven sizeable loads of cum. He pulled back on my hair hard, almost too painful to bear. He thrust hard and deep with each spray of cum, moaning my name softly over and over.

Once he had shot his load into me, he withdrew and collapsed to the floor within a matter of seconds. I soon joined him, returning my head to his chest. It didn't take long to feel his cum start to leak out of my pussy this time; it was like a hot, wet avalanche of cum. We stayed that way for some time, exhausted and trying to catch our breath. Looking around the room, I was struck by just how many patches of cum were on the ground. Including the cum that dripped out of me on my way out the back to pee, there had to be close to 10 cum puddles.

"Wow, three times in a matter of hours. That's gotta be a record for you these days, huh, Dad?" I didn't mean to sound so patronising, but I sure did sound it then.

"To be honest, I don't think I even cum that many times even when your Mum and I were on our honeymoon."

Again, my head on his chest, we chatted - I asked about their honeymoon, curious to hear about what kind of sex Dad had when he was younger and had even more energy than he does now at 53. So he told me some pretty sexy anecdotes, including about the night he's pretty sure I was conceived. Then we covered a few other topics, like what was happening on a few of our favourite shows, and what movies we'd be interested in seeing soon. Before we realised, it was almost 3pm, and I'd need to be getting home from "school" in less than an hour. So, in order to maintain our story, we decided to call it a day after lucky orgasm number 3 for each of us. We gathered up our clothes, dusted them off, avoiding all our cum puddles, and I used some tissues as makeshift pads to stop the rest of Dad's cum from leaking out and staining my underwear. On the drive home, we listened to a David Bowie album, because he's one of the few artists Dad and I both enjoy.

That wasn't the last time we went to the Love Shack, and we have broken the record of 3 orgasms each many times over. But no time has been able to match the amount of freedom I felt during our first trip to that sad, neglected little ex-house.