Daddy Dearest
Story Codes:  MF, Consensual, Incest -father/daughter



DADDY DEAREST
A LURID TALE OF LUST
by Billy Bulge



All Dan Fuller thought about was kissing his daughter’s sexy red lips. Her dark, red
lipstick drove him nuts and whenever he glanced in the bathroom in the morning and
watched her put on her crimson lipstick and then purse her lips together and swirl
her tongue around her lips - a little drop dribbled into his pants.

‘It was all okay’ he thought because this hot little chickie was NOT really his
daughter, she was just a hot chick, the ‘daddy thing’ was not catching on.

Linda Smith, a long-lost lover from hippie days past showed up and claimed the girl
was his daughter. Maybe. But the girl, his so-called daughter, Luana Smith, was a
little blond hottie and made him drool and get hard.

“It’s not one of those sicko-Dad-Daughter-sex things” he told himself, “Hell, I just met
her, she’s 29 and I’m 48, and I refuse to be the dad. I’m too old for that, by God.”

So he felt just fine laying back in bed at night and fantasizing about her, how their
mouths would join and he’d taste those moist ruby lips and then his tongue would
slide in licking and slicking with hers.

He thought of looking in her dark green eyes the moment before the kiss, her deep
emerald eyes glaring into his and her full white face tilting and her mouth opening to
his- O man, it was a hardening experience.

And then came the warm melting of their mouths, tasting and licking her hot lips,
their tongues entwining and her heavy breathing and moaning, his hand around her
perfect breast, fingernails digging into his bare back. He was hard again.

But Linda had shown up and said she was his daughter- his biological daughter. The
girl lived with him now, he didn’t have a wife or girlfriend and living with this sexy
blond, things were beginning to heat up.

Everybody but him insisted she was his so he could not touch her. Sperm built up
then blip! -constantly staining his pants and pajamas day and night.  He jacked off to
no other fantasy but her. This perfectly, thin blond, 29 year-old was his only sex
fantasy.

But Dan Fuller didn’t want for sex, he was buff, an extremely good-looking Mel
Gibson look-alike. He could walk into a bar and have a girl on his arm in five minutes.
He was an in-shape, dark haired, 48 year-old, and a real hunk according to the girls
down at Chevy’s Bar. He worked out and was large in his shoulders and in his pants
and that particular area always twitched when he saw Luana step out of the shower
dripping in a towel.

In his mind, she writhed in forty sex dramas a week.

Her dark lips bobbing up and down there. Or her fingers clutching the sheets as he
stood behind her pumping away. The sex scenes were endless.

But no way he could ever fuck- who everyone thought was-his own daughter so they
lived a normal life, her working as an elementary teacher, he was a teacher too, high
school. She did art as he did and they both wrote poems, they had so much in
common - or so her mother kept harping. She swore she was his. He never bought it.

He just met “daughter Luana” a few months back and when they met it was more like
a blind date.

His old girlfriend, Linda, from years back, claimed she was his. They had done it at
Burning Man- she said, but he couldn’t remember, maybe he was drunk. So out of
the blue on Thanksgiving she called and informed him he had a grown daughter.

She dropped the bomb- “Dan, your daughter wants to meet you.”

“Yea, right?! OK, Linda, come on over, let’s meet this girl.” Dan Fuller had been
around the block, he didn’t fall for much. He was a Capricorn.

The next day, the two women drove over, when they pulled up he said hello to Linda
who had put on a few pounds since Burning Man ‘80, and then the other woman
stepped out of the other side of the car.

He saw her and stopped breathing.

She was a blond-haired, gorgeous goddess straight out of Playboy.

Her long blond hair, her dark red lipstick, her deep green eyes, her smile, her
sensuous, liquidly walk toward him, their warm hug- knocked him right out of the park!

Their hug felt wholesome, but was she his? Nahh, she was just some hot chick- not
his daughter? The ‘Dad thing’ felt phony. It wasn’t fatherly love that was rising in his
pants.

And somehow right after they met life turned around, he broke up with his girlfriend,
Sally, and needed a roommate, rents were high in downtown San Francisco and he
heard Luana, “the daughter”, needed a place. She was a teacher, good money and
she wanted to move away from mom’s.

It was summer break, they’d have lots of free time around the house.

He told her how he might have women over and also he belonged to a spa below
Powell Street and would need a little privacy now and then.

She didn’t care, she was tickled to get to know her long-lost Dad.

It took about one week for the father thing to wear off. She experimented calling him
“Dad” but it felt awkward so she called him “Dan”, sometimes “Dad” slipped out,
there seemed be to a spark- the wrong kind of spark.

Fathers and daughters weren’t supposed to have a spark, she thought, but it
flickered up every time they hugged.

She believed he was her dad so he humored her.

She kinda liked it, Dad was an older man and his attention was rather flattering but
he wasn’t fooling anybody- she knew. Girls always know. Every one of them has well-
tuned, sex-detecting radar. They can see a horny smile 100 yards away.

It was only a matter of time before something blew.

When she left her bedroom door open one night before bed and he happened to
“accidentally” glance in and see her bare, full white tits and erect pointed nipples,
her long blond hair spilling over her breasts like a silvery waterfall- something rose
up like a tent pole in his blue sweats. He shifted his leg.

The father thing was about over. He couldn’t pretend now, even for a minute.

She noticed him staring in and smiled glancing down where she wasn’t supposed to
glance down and then she slowly closed the door.

“Good night, Dad.” came her singy-song voice from behind the door.

“Night, Luana.” and he grabbed a washcloth and hurried off to his bedroom.

‘She better not be my daughter, she makes me explode’ he said.

She lay in bed thinking ‘Dad’s not half-bad, kind of a stud really, Nah, can’t think of
him like that!’  but the wicked thought kept returning. ‘But that bulge in his sweats
mmm mm!
O shut up girl!

In the moonlit room she lay on her back naked. She held her breasts and softly
squeezed them as she lay back in the pillow and smiled into the darkness of the
room. She let her hand wander down to cup her warm mound and her finger wiggle a
little and then she thought of Dad. “O stop it’ but she couldn’t stop it, her finger
moved a little deeper.

It was his flat, perfect chest she thought of, the light, manly hair and the ripply
stomach muscles, so sexy bare-chested in sweat pants’ she brushed her fingers
across his flat stomach, and saw his smile, ‘O stop it! This is my Dad’, she dare not
think of anything further, but his wide white smile crept into her mind and her mind
wandered down to Dad’s big bulge’ and suddenly her middle finger was working
deeper and faster into herself, and getting real wet. Her clit started tingling, her
finger moved by itself, circling her clit, faster and faster, then she slid it all the way up.

She thought of Daddy kissing her, entering her mouth with his tongue, she let her
mind feel his warm tongue on hers, while his hand squeezed her breast and pinched
her nipple- “Ohh” she squealed. In her mind’s eye she saw Daddy’s hard cock
nudging into her wet slit, so hot and hard, her finger wiggling faster and when he
finally slammed it in-she groaned and came all over her hand.

She layed there in the dark, a creeping guilt gnawing inside her, “I want my Dad? I
am crazy.” her mind rushed back and forth and then she fell asleep.

In the morning she left the bathroom door wide open.

She was in her black undies, thank you Madonna, and putting on her lipstick in the
big mirror when Dad walked by the bathroom. He stopped a moment watching her
and said to hide it.

“Morning, honey, coffee’s made.” He walked by and went into the living room, she
shouted out, “Thanks Dad.”

She walked into the kitchen and poured her coffee and looked out into the living
room watching him smoke his morning cigarette.

‘Mel Gibson in a blue robe’ she thought, when he held his cigarette between his
manly fingers and raised the cigarette to his rough lips, he looked so sexy as  he
was sucking in and blowing out the smoke.

She couldn’t keep her eyes off him.

He couldn’t be her Dad, no way. He was too hot and she was turned on by him- not
right. Family did not jiggle the hormones.

Daughters weren’t supposed to get moist and have itchy nipples looking at their
father. Something was not right, she would find out once and for all. Ten minutes
later Mr. Dan Fuller, high school art teacher was off to work.

He reached to kiss his daughter on the cheek. She leaned forward to kiss him too
and felt his pursed lips brush by her cheek and kiss her throat, goose bumps all over
and her nipples were hard, they were both sizzling.

“Bye, honey, have a great day.” He flashed his shiny white smile, nodded his black,
bushy Mel Gibson head at her and stepped out the door to work. She watched his
tight, Levi ass walk down the steps.

She finally breathed out,

“God, he’s sexy! I have got to stop this!”

She’d had this crazy idea for a week.

She’d do her own DNA test on good old Dad. She had to for her own sanity.   He had
breezed into her life, mom said he was her REAL dad. They looked alike a little bit,
but why did she want to pin him against the couch every time she saw him? Why did
his smile make her giddy like a teenager?
                                                                                
Maybe he wasn’t him, maybe mom had fucked somebody else that looked like Dad.
Back then mom was a hippie, Free Love and all that shit.’

She could be related to the Grateful Dead for all she knew.

So Luana got an idea - she’d secretly test Daddy Dan’s DNA and see if they were a
match.

She saw Dad’s cigarette butt smoldering in the ashtray.

“Ah ha! The cigarette butt, I’ll collect it like CSI Miami.”

She went to the kitchen drawer and got a plastic bag. She got hot-dog tongs from
another drawer and carefully plucked Dad’s half-smoked cigarette out of the ash tray
and carefully placed the butt in the plastic bag and eased it into her purse.

“The women’s clinic will tell me.” She clicked her purse closed.

‘Sue works there, she’s a dingbat, but she did those rape cases and stuff, she could
do the test and see if her DNA matched Dad’s cigarette and she’d finally know- Dad
or no Dad.

She had to know, it was tearing her up.

She was Catholic and had been going to the priest and confessing her sin of mental
incest or coveting thy father’s ass or whatever you call it, she was a ‘full-of-guilt-
Catholic’ and the lust in her heart was making her little body tremble all over.

She went to confession two times a week, step into the booth and say-

“Father, forgive me, for I fantasize about fucking my Dad.”

She thought after all this hassle- if she found out he was her real Dad, she’d slap his
horny face, shower in cold water and clam up tight as a bank safe.
                                                                                    
But if this Mel Gibson Man she was living with was not her real dad and was just
‘some sexy guy’, if she’d been guilty for nothing over this pumped-up stud cake - she’
d grab his curly horny head and jam it right smack between her legs and bid him lick
for a week.

The DNA Test would tell.

He was going out of town soon, a perfect time to settle the affair. Or have the affair.

All Dan fuller ever saw was a hot chick he wanted to ravish but he played along. He
couldn’t hold out much longer. He’d slip and really kiss the girl one day and blow the
father thing all over the place.

He would hide his ‘inner horndog’ and be an adult, if he could. He resolved to be
strong as he opened the door to the apartment.

He walked in and she was standing in the living room, he gave her a regular ole, dad
kiss’ on her cheek, wholesome as an apple, and walked to into his bedroom. She
followed him curiously, ‘no drooling dad today?’

“Where you goin, Dad?” she inquired, leaning in his bedroom doorway.

She purposely wore a frumpy yellow dress to cool him off.

“Teacher seminar down in San Diego, I’ll be gone a week, maybe more, you’ll be ok I
hope?” He turned and flashed his big, re-assuring smile at her, “Need any money for
food and wine?”

‘Taking care of daughter, how sweet’ she thought.

“Sure, Dad, but I am 29 you know.” “I know, girl,” and gave her a smile and clicked
open his suitcase to pack, throwing in his folded shirts.
                                                                                        
His smile always got her, she melted a little and walked over and gave him a big hug
from the side. She relaxed and hugged him like the dad he was acting like today.

“Ahh, you care.”

“I sure do Mel, I mean dad, you do remind me of Mel Gibson.”

“I do ? Nah I’m prettier than him.”

They laughed and she felt warm and daughterly. He actually felt like a dad for a
moment- a very short moment. He turned and squeezed her tight, arms around her
so full, his chest melting into hers. She closed her eyes holding him for the longest
time.

Wrong or right, birds were fluttering in her mind. She was wonderfully confused.

The hug ended and he pulled away. They looked at each other and her heart
melted, having a father felt real nice.

In her entire life she’d never had one.  Mom had guys, not dads.

She could go down this road, it felt solid that is if he was real.

He turned and clicked his suitcase closed on the bed, stood up and smiled over at
her again. With his muscular arms, English Leather fragrance doing its thing on her,
his bright smile and square shadowy jaw she really loved him at this moment.

In this sweet moment the ‘hot guy switch’ was turned off and a father was standing
before her. He opened his wallet and handed her a two twenties, “This enough?”
She melted to butter, “Sure, thank you, Dad,” the daughter in her was out and
strolling about.
                                                                                     
He reached and hugged her again, he was real good as a father. She loved it.

He gently held her shoulders at arms’ length, looking into her bright eyes, “Luana,
you are so beautiful and want me to be Dad, but darlin’ all I see is a beautiful woman.
If I was your dad I’d fly right, but baby, I’m just Dan and you turn me on and drive me
crazy. Sorry for being honest.”

“That’s ok, I understand, I was just hopin’, and I think you’re pretty cute too.”

“Yea?

“Yea, now you have a nice trip, drink a Marguerita for me!”

“I will, dear.”

“Love you, Dad.”

Then he picked up his suitcase. She was standing right next to him in her yellow
dress, her thin blond hair splashing down her yellow dress, he suddenly reached his
hand around her blond head, pulled her to him and gave her a big sexy kiss. She felt
his lips for the first time on hers, the first older man’s mouth she’d ever tasted-
thinking of him as her Dad gave her an extra jolt! She pulled back, eyes wide,
turning bright red.

He smiled big, “I guess I lost it, sorry, see you in a week or so.”

“Ok,” she smiled weakly and he walked out the door.

She could not move, her lips were still dancing.

Her legs gave out and she fell onto his bed, her face in his pillow, ‘Wow, that was
nice’ she sighed and closed her eyes envisioning something she dare not envision. It
would be so good.

But for a moment or two  having a dad sure felt perfect, a real dad to talk to, confide
in, be safe with. Now she was really screwed up.

A half hour later she called the women’s clinic,

“Hello, is Sue Richmond there?”

“Sure, I’ll get her.” a moment later,

“Hi, this is Sue, what’s up?”

“Hi Sue,”

“Luana! Great to hear you! What do you want, girl, I’m pretty busy down here.”

“Hi, umm, do you do those rape kit DNA things?”

“Ahh yea, we do, you in trouble my dear?”

“No, it’s for Dan. I want to find out once and for all if he’s my real Dad, can you help
me out?”

“Well, I’m not supposed to but for you, Luana, I’ll do it, we’ll find out if that Hottie is
your Dad or not. Sorry, but no problem, bring down anything he’s touched, his hair
or anything, you watch TV, and something of yours and I’ll see if it matches. It might
cost a little.”

“That’s ok, no problem, I’ll pay cash to be cool, how ‘bout today?”

“Sure, anytime… gotta go, bye.”

Luana, thin, blond Playboy-girl, put the baggie with Dad’s cigarette butt in it in her
purse. She snipped a strand of her hair and put in another plastic baggie.

“Now I’ll finally know for sure.”

She grabbed the car keys on the kitchen counter and drove down to the clinic.

For three long days she sat in their apartment waiting for the news.  She watched T.
V. , walked around the room, drank wine, ate ice cream, combed her hair, ate pizza.
At 10 AM on day 3, the phone rang. She picked up and it was her mom.

“Hi honey, it’s mom, what you up to? you’ve been sitting there for days.”

“I know.”

“What’s wrong?, mom’s always know when something’s wrong.”

“OK, now don’t get mad mom, I’m having Dan’s DNA checked.”

“WHAT! Why the hell for? I told you he was.”

“I know, but please understand.”

“Alright. Luana, do what you gotta do. Let me know, you doing it at that woman’s
clinic place downtown?”

“Yea,”

“They’re pretty flakey, you should use a real hospital, but I hope you find out and
feel better, I love you.

“Love you too, bye mom,”

That afternoon Luana walked out her Old Victorian apartment to the mailbox and
there was a postcard to her. It was a picture of an old sailing ship docked in San
Diego Harbor. She turned it over and read:

“Hi Luana,
Having a Good time, wish you were here, lotsa young guys you could talk to around
here. Lifeguards, surfers, you know. I’m having a Marguerita right now just for you.    
Love you, Dan"


“Love you too.” she said to herself and smiled. She then noticed a letter in the back
of the mailbox. She reached in and pulled it out.
It was from the Women’s Clinic.
                                                                                          
Her face flushed bright red and her heart pounded beneath her jiggling breasts.

“My God! the DNA test! O shit, is he or is he not?” She was afraid to open it.

Luana, sexy blond goddess in jeans and t-shirt, stepped quickly up the walkway and
went into the house. Her heart was racing like a rabbit chased by ten bloodhounds.

She sat down on the couch and slowly pried open the envelope with her fingernail.
She closed her eyes, “Here goes.” She opened the letter, it was typed on the woman’
s clinic stationary, it read:


TO BE CONTINUED


Copyright© 2008 Billy Bulge


Mr. Bulge has been 'freelancing' for years, freely 'lancing into all the right places. He writes soft
porn until it gets fondled and becomes hard porn. He writes long and hard and then inserts his
finished product into various organs that are receptive to his partidular slant. Many editors, all
female, have been satisfied with his literary performance and all agree that his literary tool is well-
oiled and always brings a smile to their face and in all their spreads he fits in quite nicely.

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