My Sister's Wedding

I've been trying to seduce my father for months now. I know it sounds fucked up, but I've wanted him for a long time. And I know he feels the same way. In fact, I know he used to have sex with my older sister, Caroline, so he has to want me too since we're practically identical: tall and lean with our mother's bright blue blowjob eyes and full lips. The biggest difference between us is that she wears her dark hair in a pixie cut while mine is sunshiny blond and hangs wavy down my shoulders.

See, just after my eighteenth birthday, my parents left me home alone for a long weekend for the fist time and I snuck into their room to snoop. Under my dad's bed, in a box labelled 'tax information,' I found a whole stack of DVDs with random, meaningless names scribbled on them. When I popped the first one into my computer, what I found shocked me.

My dad – six foot four, tan, muscular, with salt and pepper hair and a jaw that could still cut glass even at forty – with his cock buried hilt-deep inside of my older sister. I only caught brief glimpses of her contorted face, but she has an unmistakable tattoo on her ankle that I could see with her legs wrapped around our father, a butterfly that she'd gotten after he first year at college.

God, that video got to me. My father's wild, animalistic thrusting. The taut and sweaty muscles that knotted across his back. My sister's weak, almost reverent moans every time he slammed into her with a heavy grunt. It didn't take long for me to work through the entire stack of DVDs, sneaking into my parents' room while they were at work in the evenings or while they were out on the weekends.

Those DVDs lodged something deep inside me, something that sent me shivering every time dad glanced my way and left my panties drenched after nearly every night we spent together, watching movies and playing board games like normal fathers and daughters do.

I knew I needed to wait patiently. Since I turned eighteen two years ago, I've been wearing progressively shorter skirts and deeper cut tops, relishing in it every time he glances at my exposed 32D cleavage or the curve of my thong above my low-rise shorts. After my sister moved out to live with her fiancé, presumably cutting off our dad sexually, he's become increasingly more obvious in his stares and his 'accidental' brushes against my ass. That's the problem with being divorced, I guess. There aren't a lot of ways for him to get off besides getting himself off. Sometimes I hear him at night or in the shower, moaning loudly when he thinks I'm asleep.

I've been waiting for my time to strike and this is the week. My sister Caroline, who's five years older than me since mom and dad had her by accident pretty young, is finally marrying the oblivious fiancé after years of dating. It's a destination wedding in Hawaii and dad, a successful lawyer, is putting everyone up the five start hotel where the ceremony will be. I'm supposed to be rooming with one of the other bridesmaids, but I'll figure something out.

When we arrive after an uncomfortable plane ride from our home in New York, the whole gang piles into the lobby of the hotel. Everyone's there – Caroline and her fiancé, bridesmaids and groomsmen, and a handful of close extended family that dad is personally paying for – and dad leads the pack like he always does. He places an authoritative hand on the front desk and gives a golden smile to the Hawaiian receptionist. "We have a reservation for this week under 'Hayes.' The Presidential Suite and six regular two-person suites, I believe."

The receptionist taps at her computer for a moment and grimaces. "I'm sorry, sir; it seems there's been some kind of mix up. We only have five additional two-person suites and one single-person suite available for this week."

Dad bites back frustration. He's kind and soft and accommodating, but he also expects the best at all times. He turns to the group of expectant faces with a small laugh. "Sounds like someone's going to have to give up their own bed. Anybody want to sleep on the floor?"

I see my opportunity to strike, smiling internally at the plan that immediately blooms in my mind. "I can stay with you, daddy. I don't mind the floor and I wouldn't want to kick any of our guests out."

Caroline cuts in with a thankful but doubting expression. "Are you sure, Claire? I could always-"

"It's your wedding, Car." I nudge her gently on my elbow. "I want all of you to have to best time possible. Plus, it's not like I'm going to spend all my time in the hotel with that amazing beach right outside."

So, with that settled, we go in shifts up the elevator. Since dad and I are on the top floor, we head up last. I beam at him once we're alone in the elevator. "This is going to be such an amazing week!"

"It sure is. You won't mind sleeping on the floor?"

"We can alternate." I elbow him in the ribs, half-joking. "Or we could always share the bed."

For a split second, his green eyes rove over my body. I'm wearing a thin floral dress and no bra, my cleavage and hard nipples obvious with the cool Hawaiian breeze moving through the hotel. He says exactly what I want to hear. "Sure, if you really don't mind."

"Of course not!" I swiftly throw my arms around him and plant a kiss on his stubbly cheek.

"It'll be just like when I was little."

He chuckles, clearing his throat as my breasts rub against his arm. "Yeah, I'm sure it's going to be great."

I remove my arms from around him when the elevator doors open and a couple walks in, eyeing us suspiciously. When we leave the elevator and walk down an empty hall, dad offers to take my suitcase, shuffles ahead of me, and fairly obviously covers a hard-on with his messenger bag. I pretend not to notice but smile to myself at the fact that I've already caused him to get around, just by rubbing up against him for half a second. God, he really is sex-deprived. Hopefully I'll be able to change that before the wedding.

Dad lets us into the small suite – a full bathroom, bedroom, and a sitting room – and I plop down onto the king sized bed's silky white covers. As dad ducks into the bathroom, I call out, "We definitely won't be cramped sharing this bed!"

His voice is a bit strained, holding back arousal, as he replies, "That's good, at least. Why don't you take a nap or go tan with some of the girls? I need to grab a quick shower."

Grinning at the idea that he's probably going to jerk off to the thought of me while I'm lying only a few feet away, I say, "Sounds like a great idea. I'll try not to get burned too badly or you'll have to help me lotion up tonight."

He doesn't reply but I hear him inhale sharply at the thought. Then, a second later, I hear the water running. Noticing that he unintentionally took my suitcase into the bathroom with him, I smirk and push open the slightly ajar door. He's already in the shower, thick cock sticking straight up against his toned stomach, but I pretend not to look at him. We walk in on each other in the shower at home, so he doesn't protest as long as I keep my back turned. "Sorry, dad, I need to grab my bikini if I'm going to tan on the beach.

I rifle through my suitcase, glancing up at the mirror and catching sight of him quietly fisting his dick as he watches my body. At this angle, he can't tell that I'm watching him watch me, so I put on a little bit of a show, slowly pulling my light dress over my head and dropping it on the floor. Then I bend over, giving him a full view of my ass in nothing but a lacy white thong, and pick up one of the many swimsuits I brought for the trip. Then I drop my panties and take my sweet time re-dressing in the string bikini, stretching my arms over my head so that my full breasts look killer in the mirror.

Once I'm dressed, I silently head out of the bathroom, wrap myself in a beach towel, and head downstairs. Caroline and Joy, the maid of honor, join me on the hotel's private white sand beach. Since it's already the afternoon and I naturally tan well, I don't put on any sunscreen, which turns out to be a mistake after I fall asleep on my stomach and wake up an hour later with an angry red sunburn.

The burn continues to bother me at dinner, which I sit through in an uncomfortably tight dress that rubs the skin on my shoulders nearly raw. Everyone clinks champagne and makes toasts to Caroline and her fiancé but I'm dying to get out of there the moment we finish dessert. Caroline orders another bottle of wine for the table while I fidget.

Dad notices my discomfort and rests a hand on my thigh under the table. "You want to head upstairs?"

"I don't want to cut the party short for everyone else, but this sunburn is killing me," I mumble just load enough for him to hear.

"Claire, if you're uncomfortable, I can get us out of here no problem."

I give him a thankful glance as he turns to Caroline and discretely excuses us, blessed with the social graces that I never quite cultivated. I'm much less subtle and much more straightforward – which, despite the sunburn, I'm hoping will help me out tonight. The burn isn't as bad as I've been acting; mostly, I've been using it as an excuse to get him upstairs while everyone else is occupied.

Once we're in the room, I sit on the bed and sigh, rubbing my shoulder as dad watches. He clenches his jaw as my bra strap falls down my arm and I look up at him with my mother's wide blue eyes. "Would you put some lotion on my shoulders so I can go to bed? If you wouldn't mind, I mean."

He swallows a lump in his throat and says, "Yeah. Yeah, of course."

"The lotions in my suitcase, in the toiletry bag with my toothbrush."

Returning a few seconds later with the bottle of lotion in hand, dad sits behind me on the bed, his legs around me with his half-hard dick against the small of my back. His hands shake a little as he pumps a few squirts of lotion into his palm and prepares to rub it onto my shoulders.

Like an afterthought, I sit up straight and say, "Shit, one second. I don't want you getting any of that on my dress." I reach my arm around my back and pull down the cool metal zipper on my red dress. The straps fall to the side and I shimmy it down my legs and kick it off, leaving my full breasts exposed in the golden light of the hotel room. Even though dad can't see them yet, I can feel myself getting wet at nothing more than how naked I am in the matching black lace bra and panties. "Alright, go ahead."

Almost tentatively, his strong hands, cool with the vanilla-scented lotion, kiss over my burning shoulders. The contact of his calloused fingers on my smooth soft skin ignites a fire in the pit of my stomach. I warn myself to stay calm, patient.

As I lean into his touch, he grows more confident. His fingers press warm circles into my back, at first just spreading the lotion but quickly starting to massage deeper into my muscles. His fingers brush under my bra straps and I feel them slip off my shoulders. My breasts spill over the top of my bra, the pink nipple nearly exposed. Dad replaces the bra straps and mutters hastily, "Sorry, Claire."

I shrug under his hands. "I don't mind."

"It's just that I'm your father and I probably shouldn't-"

"Daddy," I whine, "we should be comfortable with each other, right?"

"Well, yes-"

"Then just keep putting lotion on me." I turn around briefly and squeeze his arm, looking into his eyes with a strange intensity with mine. "Don't be so nervous. It's not like this is my first time having a guy massage my back or your first time massaging a girl's back."

He chuckles as I turn around again, "Fair enough."

With renewed energy, he works his hands across my upper back. I get lost in the slow, steady rhythm of his movements and catch myself biting my lip as his fingers work purposefully under my bra straps without fear. His hands move a little bit lower, gently nudging the band of my bra down, not quite certain of where to go from there.

Before he can question himself or the situation, I reach around and unhook my bra, dropping it on the floor in front of me. I don't want to push him too hard or too fast, so I don't turn yet, acting coy and crossing my arms over my chest as if I don't want him to see me, as if I want to maintain our parent/child relationship, as if I don't want to change everything right now.

His fingers work roughly down the back of my ribcage, tripping a little bit now that the skin is completely bare and the sharp white and pink lines of my fresh sunburn are obvious. I shut my eyes for a moment, resting my head back onto the right side of his chest. The motion forces his hands around my waist so that they're resting just above my hips.

I open my eyes briefly. He's looking down at me, mouth open in an unspoken question. In lieu of an answer, I kiss his stubbly neck. Just a peck. When I feel him shiver at the touch of my lips, I press a more persistent kiss into his jaw and grind backwards into his crotch, where I can feel his cock hardening by the second.

"Claire, I-"

I take his hands and guide them up my stomach, dropping mine when he reaches the place just under my breasts, inviting him to make the decision to cross the line for himself. My voice drops to a husky whisper and I moan, "Daddy, please."

I feel his thumbs twitch as he almost cradles my chest. I'm nervous, butterflies fluttering around in my stomach at the idea that he might reject me, might not want me the way he wanted my sister.

Then he inhales sharply, wrenches his hands upwards to cup my tits, and mutters, "Fuck it."

"No," I whisper, whipping around and holding his hands to my breasts, "fuck me."

His eyes widen as he gets his first real look at his daughter's tits. My nipples are hard and pink, my areolas even and quarter-sized. His thumbs work over my erect nipples, eliciting a wanton groan from me. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this. You."

And then, for the first time, we kiss. His lips are rough on mine, harsh and needy as his tongue plays at mine. While he trails kisses down my face to my neck, over my collarbones, and down to my nipples, I drop my right hand between us and feel his dick through his dress pants. Fuck, it's a monster. I can't wait to get my hands, my mouth, my pussy around it.

Dad moves my hand away and I pout at him. "What are you doing?"

He smirks at me, removing his mouth from my now red and swollen nipple for the first time. I miss its urgency immediately. "If we're going to do this, then I'm going to do whatever I want to you." He licks my nipple, tongue swirling around my areola. "I'm going to make you wait." He switches breasts, hand on my right and mouth on my left. I throw my head back, suppressing a groan as I grind on his cock, my pussy soaking through my panties already. "I'm going to fucking worship you."

I grab his chin and force his lips to mine. "Then stop teasing me and show me what you've got."

Without a second thought, he lifts me off the bed and throws me back down. I gasp. As I lean back on my elbows, he unbuttons his shirt, throws it across the room, and drops down onto his knees. His fingers tease up my legs, from my knees up toward my dripping pussy. He leans kisses the inside of my thighs, lips running over everywhere but the one spot I desperately want him to. Slowly, until I'm knotting my fingers in my own hair with the anticipation of it, he teases my black lace thong off my body with his teeth. Then, my panties discarded, he looks on my waxed pussy for the first time. He looks at me. I finally understand why they call it eye contact. "You're beautiful, Claire."

Then he descends on me, not wasting a single second more. His tongue lazily circles my clit, the stubble on his jaw scratching at my thighs. He licks up and down my pussy lips, tasting and reveling every second. I grab his head and force it deeper into my wetness, the sucking and touching almost too much for me. As he inserts a finger and pumps it against my g-spot, I start to feel that tell-tale explosion mounting inside of me. Another finger. He speeds up and slows down. Again. Again. He lessens the pressure on my clit and then, just as I'm about to explode, he starts a new assault and fireworks shoot across my body. My hips buck against his face and my back arches as I clutch the sheets, completely lost in waves of pleasure. Dad works me through the throes of orgasm, not letting go of control over my pleasure for a single second.

His fingers tease out the last of the high and then he crawls on top of me. He plants a kiss on my lips and I taste myself, tangy and almost sweet, on him as he continues to pump my pussy. I moan as he bites and sucks at my neck.

Reaching down, I grab for his cock again, hungry to see what I've been dreaming about for years.

This time, he indulges me, stand up and stripping down. I sit up at attention as he releases his cock.

My eyes widen.

His dick has got to be seven or eight inches, thick as a soda can. I'm no virgin and I've seen my fair share of thick members but I don't know if I'm going to be able to take my dad's monster.

First, though, I have to taste it.

I lean forward wrap my fingers around it almost religiously. I can barely hold it in both hands. Massaging my way down the shaft, I cup his balls and take a deep breath. Dad groans as I wrap my lips around it, swirl my tongue around its bulbous head. I can't take much more than that in my mouth, but I force myself down and look up at him while he fists my hair, obviously resisting the urge to roughly fuck my face. I bob back and forth, gagging a little as his cock hits the back of my throat. Almost involuntarily, he thrusts a bit. I let myself go still and he takes the hint, bucking his hips and taking my face like I hope he'll take my pussy. My eyes water but I love the salty taste of his cock on my tongue, the drip of his precum as he lets himself go. I feel him tense up and, a few seconds before I know he's going to come, I pull back and stop him right before he has the chance.

"Fuck, Claire." He swears, "Oh my god."

"Come on, daddy." I stand up, his rigid cock nearly aligned with my waiting, wet pussy, and bite at his earlobe. "I want you to take my pussy and fuck me hard and cum inside of me."

He groans and pushes me up against the wall next to the bed. Our tongues dance together and he fists his cock, lining up the massive head with my slit. The beast is going to split me in two, but I bite my lip through the pain because I know it's going to turn into pleasure soon enough. "Are you ready?"

I nod into his shoulder, digging my nails into his back at the pressure of his cock between my legs. In a motion so passionate and driven I release an animal sound that definitely isn't English, dad rams his cock inside me. My back rubs against the wall as I wrap my legs around him, completely supported as he pounds my pussy and holds me tight to his body. "Oh god. Fuck. Fuck, Daddy, I'm gonna cum again."

He reaches between us and rapidly rubs my clit, sending me immediately over the edge. I moan into his neck as my body goes limp and he rams into me. The walls of my pussy clamp in a vise grip around his cock and I feel him tensing up.

He falls back onto the bed and suddenly I'm riding him and he's bucking upward into me and I'm groaning into his skin. He breathes my name into my ear and we're hot, sweating against each other as he erupts into my pussy, ropes of cum coating my insides.

Dad looks down at his cock buried inside his daughter with his mouth open. Sweat beads on his forehead. His eyes are wide as he asks, "Are you on the pill?"