The world spun, and not in a gentle way. It was more like I’d been thrown off a merry-go-round after too many shots of something I couldn’t even pronounce. My heels clicked too loudly on the pavement as I stumbled up the driveway, the sound echoing through the dead silence of the early morning. My head swam, heavy with a mix of alcohol and adrenaline, the remnants of the night still buzzing under my skin.
I was so close. Just a few more steps, I’d be back in my bed, hiding under the covers, pretending this had all been a dream by the time the sun rose. My heart pounded as I reached the door, my fingers fumbling with the key. I’d been so careful—or at least, I thought I had. Slipping out of the house just past midnight, when everyone was fast asleep, had felt like a brilliant idea.
The club had been electric, flashing lights and bodies pressed close together, the kind of place I’d only seen in movies or overheard whispered about at school. I’d gone there wanting to lose myself in the music, to let go of the good girl image that always seemed to cling to me like a second skin. And I had. God, I had. The taste of freedom had been as intoxicating as the cocktails I downed, the music pulsing through me like fire. I’d danced until my feet ached, laughed until my throat was raw, and flirted until I felt bold, beautiful, and unstoppable.
Now, as I tried to slide the key into the lock with unsteady hands, all that bravado crumbled. The door swung open before I could enter, and he was there. My dad. His eyes were wide with relief and anger, his silhouette filling the doorway like a shadow I couldn’t escape.
“Ella, what the hell—” His voice was low, sharp, cutting through the drunken haze like a knife.
I froze, blinking up at him as the reality of the situation crashed over me like ice water. My heart sank, and all the confidence I’d had just hours before disappeared. There was no getting out of this one.
“I, uh… I was just…” I stammered, my voice slurring slightly, and I cursed myself for it. I knew I looked a mess. My makeup was smudged, my hair wild from the night’s adventures. The skimpy, tight dress that had felt so alluring under the pulsing club lights now felt too revealing, too obvious. I tried to tug it down, as if that would somehow fix things.
His eyes roved over me, and I saw the exact moment he registered my outfit. “You went out like that?” he asked, his voice laced with disbelief and something else—something that felt like judgment.
My cheeks burned as I glanced down at myself. The dress was barely there, clinging to my curves in a way that had made me feel powerful at the club. But here, under the harsh porch light, it felt like it was exposing too much. The low neckline dipped dangerously, and the hemline barely skimmed the top of my thighs. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, the cool night air suddenly too sharp against my bare skin.
“Just… just dancing,” I mumbled, the words barely reaching my lips. “With friends.”
“Just dancing?” he repeated, his brows knitting together. “Ella, you’re drunk. And dressed like that—what were you thinking?”
“I’m not—” I started, but the words faltered. Lying was useless. The truth was all over my flushed cheeks and glassy eyes, and my dress clung to me like a second skin, barely covering what it should.
“I trusted you,” he said quietly, and that’s what hurt the most—not the anger, but the sadness in his voice—the kind that made me feel small, like I was a kid again, caught sneaking an extra cookie before dinner.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, the fight going out of me all at once. My eyes burned, tears threatening to spill, and I hated myself for it. For being careless, breaking his trust, and letting the night spiral out of control. I just wanted to forget everything, to crawl under the covers and pretend it never happened.
Dad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Ella, we’ll talk about this in the morning. Go to bed.”
I stepped closer to him, “I… I can make it up to you, I sure just how sorry I am.”
He stood there puzzled, “You’re drunk. What are you going on about?”
I saw his eyes widen as I dropped to my knees in the doorway, looking up at him through heavy lashes. My head was still spinning, my thoughts clouded by a mix of shame, lust, and desperation, but in that moment, I only knew one thing.
“Daddy,” I said softly, reaching up to curl my hand around the front of his jeans, feeling the heat of him even through the denim. “Let me show you how sorry I am. I promise it will be better than any dream.”
For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t react. His face was frozen, unreadable, and I felt a stab of panic—had I gone too far?
Finally, he spoke hesitantly, “Ella, this isn’t the way to handle this.”
“Please, Daddy,” I whispered, my voice softer, more pleading. “I need to make it up to you. Let me show you how much I care about you, how sorry I am.”
I unzipped his jeans and took out his limp small cock; I paused, eyeing his cock in surprise. It was much smaller than I had expected. Not that size mattered, of course, but it was still a surprise. But it was limp and soft; I needed to get him hard. I looked up at him, my eyes full of questions, but he seemed lost in his thoughts.
I took the soft cock in my hand, stroking it gently, feeling it begin to stiffen under my touch. I looked up at him, my eyes filled with defiance and need, daring him to stop me.
“Ella, this isn’t right,” he said, but his voice was softer now, less certain.
“I don’t see you stopping me do I,” I said as his cock was now bigger and longer in my hand as I put the head of his cock in my mouth.
I swirled my tongue around the head of his cock, tasting the saltiness of his skin, feeling him grow harder in my mouth. I moaned softly, the sound muffled by his cock, and looked up at him, my eyes filled with a mix of defiance and need. I wanted to make him forget the anger, the disappointment, the fear that had filled his eyes just moments before. I wanted to replace it with something else—something hot, something dirty, something real.
I sucked him deeper into my mouth, feeling him hit the back of my throat, and I moaned again, the sound louder this time. I wanted him to feel how much I wanted him, how much I needed him. I wanted him to know that I was willing to do anything, to push any boundaries, to make it up to him.
“Ella,” he groaned, his hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer to him. “You don’t have to do this.”
But I could see the desire in his eyes, the way they darkened as I sucked him harder, the way his hips thrust forward, seeking more. I knew he wanted this just as much as I did. And I wouldn’t stop until I made him forget everything else.
I began to feel wetness between my legs, I took his cock out my mouth and cant believe what I said next.
“Daddy, I need my coochie punished. I been naughty, how about you come to my room and tuck me in, Mmmm,” I said as I stood up.
He followed me to my room, his eyes fixed on my ass as I walked ahead of him. I could feel the heat of his gaze, making me bold, beautiful, and unstoppable. I pushed open the door and stepped inside, excited as I looked at him from over my shoulder.
“Get undressed,” I said, my voice husky with desire. “I want to see all of you.”
He hesitated momentarily, then began to undress, shedding his clothes slowly, deliberately. I watched him, feeling my heart race as I saw his body for the first time. He was beautiful—strong, powerful, and all mine.
When he was naked, he crossed the room to me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me close. I could feel the heat of his body, the hardness of his cock pressed against me, and I moaned softly, feeling a wave of desire wash over me.
“Ella,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. “I can’t resist you.”
I smiled, feeling a thrill of victory. I’d won—I’d made him forget everything else, and now we were together, ready to lose ourselves in each other.
“Then don’t,” I said, turning to face him. “Show me how much you want me.”
He didn’t need any more encouragement. He kissed me hard and deep, his tongue exploring my mouth as his hands roamed over my body. I moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as he touched me, feeling his hands on my skin, my curves, my breasts.
He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my neck, nipping at my skin as he went. I gasped, feeling a thrill of pleasure as he bit me, feeling his teeth on my skin. He reached for my breasts, cupping them in his hands, his thumbs brushing over my nipples. I moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as he touched me, feeling his hands on my skin, my curves, my breasts.
He kissed my breasts, his lips hot and wet against my nipples. I gasped, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as he kissed me, feeling his lips on my skin, my curves, my breasts. He sucked my nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around them as he sucked. I moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as he sucked me, feeling his lips on my skin, my curves, my breasts.
He broke the kiss, trailing his lips down my stomach, his hands roaming my body. I gasped, feeling a thrill of pleasure as he touched me, feeling his hands on my skin, my curves, my stomach. He reached my hips, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my panties.
“Open for me,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
I did as he said, taking the waistband of my panties and yanking them to the side, ready for him. My pussy looked so good, wet and ready for him. He groaned, looking at my pussy, his eyes filled with desire.
He reached for his cock, stroking it slowly, deliberately. I watched him, feeling a thrill of pleasure as I saw him touch himself, feeling his hand on his cock, feeling his fingers wrap around it.
“Ella,” he said, his voice husky with desire. “You’re so fucking hot.”
I smiled, feeling a thrill of pleasure. I loved hearing him say that, loved knowing that I was turning him on, that I was making him want me.
He stepped closer to me, his cock pressing against my pussy. I moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as I felt him press against me, feeling his cock on my skin, my curves, my pussy.
“Ready for me?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.
I nodded, feeling a thrill of pleasure. I was ready for him, ready to feel him inside me, ready to lose myself in him.
He pushed inside me slowly, deliberately. I moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as I felt him push inside me, feeling his cock on my skin, my curves, my pussy. He filled me up, stretching me, making me feel full and complete.
He began to move, slowly at first, then faster, harder. I moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as he moved inside me, feeling his cock on my skin, my curves, my pussy. I met his thrusts, moving my hips to meet his, feeling the pleasure build inside me.
He fucked me hard, rough, just as I’d asked him to. I moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as he fucked me, feeling his cock on my skin, my curves, my pussy. I could hear the squelch of my pussy as he moved inside me, the sound of our bodies coming together.
We fucked for what felt like hours, losing ourselves in each other, forgetting everything else. We didn’t talk, we didn’t need to. Our bodies spoke for us, telling each other everything we needed to know.
Finally, we both came, our orgasms crashing over us like waves. I moaned, feeling a wave of pleasure wash over me as I came, feeling his cock inside me, feeling his warmth fill me up. He groaned, holding me close as he came, his body shuddering with pleasure.
We lay there, tangled together, for a long time, neither wanting to move. We were spent, exhausted, but happy. We’d done what we needed to do—we’d made up, forgiven, and lost ourselves in each other.
“I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear.
“I love you too,” I whispered back, feeling a wave of happiness.
And in that moment, everything was right in the world. We’d made up, we’d forgiven, and we’d lost ourselves in each other. And that was all that mattered.