I had just turned 28 when I boldly moved to New York, chasing a long-time dream of starting my own baking business. My dad, ever supportive, offered to help with the move, bringing along his trusty old truck. I was grateful—I knew I couldn’t have done it without him.
Even in his early fifties, my father is the picture of strength. Twenty years of military service have etched rugged lines into his face, and his body, still impressively built, bears the marks of hard-earned experience. The thick beard he now sports only adds to his rugged charm, a look that complements his resilience despite the toll the years have taken on him—countless deployments, old injuries that flare up, but never a complaint.
My parents split when I was a child, and my dad was often deployed overseas. We rarely saw each other. But since his retirement, he’s been making more of an effort, and I can tell he’s trying to make up for the lost time. I appreciate it more than I can express.
After earning my degree in culinary arts, I knew it was time to find my place and start building the life I had always dreamed of. When I saw the perfect house, my dad didn’t hesitate to offer his help. So we packed up and hit the road together, giving us hours of uninterrupted conversation. It felt good to talk, to reconnect with the man I had admired from afar for most of my childhood.
After hours of driving, we finally stopped at a small roadside motel. It was late—he liked to push through as much as he could before calling it a night. Unfortunately, when we checked in, the clerk told us there was only one room with a single queen bed. My dad hesitated, glancing at me for reassurance. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asked, his brows lifting slightly.
I nodded with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. “We’ll be fine, Dad. It’s just one night.”
The room was cramped, smaller than we expected. But after the long day on the road, neither of us cared. We were both tired and just needed rest. I grabbed a few things from my bag and headed to the bathroom, eager to wash off the day’s grime. “I’ll leave the door unlocked if you need to use the restroom,” I called over my shoulder as I disappeared behind.
The hot water felt amazing, soothing the tension in my muscles. I stayed under the spray longer than I meant to, letting the warmth ease the stiffness from the drive. It was peaceful, almost meditative. But then I heard a soft knock at the door.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” Dad called out awkwardly. “I’ve been holding it for as long as I can. I need to use the bathroom.”
I chuckled, though he couldn’t see it. “No problem, Dad. Go ahead, I’m still in the shower.”
The door opened, and I could hear him tiptoeing as if trying not to disturb me. There was something strangely intimate about it—an odd but comforting reminder of how close we’d become recently despite all the years apart.
Upon directing my gaze towards the shower’s edge, I saw him standing there in all his glory, thanks to the mirror’s reflective surface. My breath hitched as I observed him holding his considerable manhood, relieving himself.
Even in its flaccid state, it appeared sizable to my eyes. My pussy clenched involuntarily, and a wave of arousal washed over me. I could not look away, secure in knowing he was oblivious to my presence. I decided to prolong this tantalizing moment by engaging him in conversation as he did his business.
I casually talked about his daily life, asking questions to buy myself another minute to admire him. I was curious about his romantic endeavours, asking if he was involved with anyone. He confessed to being single for several years, mentioning that he hadn’t yet found the one who truly captured his heart. This revelation only heightened my fascination with him, and I couldn’t help but feel a spark of desire ignite within me.
Without a second thought, my hand slid down to caress myself while I stared at his throbbing cock. It didn’t take long before he stopped just peeing but firmly grasped it. The sight of him stroking himself sent shivers down my spine and made my nipples grow hard instantly. There I was, witnessing my Dad pleasure himself while I touched myself in the shower.
He became even harder and continued to stroke his massive erection as we casually conversed like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. He then stopped abruptly and said we could chat again once he had finished pleasuring himself, leaving me alone with a deep sense of lust and longing as he walked out of the room.
Overcome with an unbearable hunger for more; I continued to play with myself until an overwhelmingly powerful orgasm overcame me, causing me to clutch onto the cold shower wall for support as it ripped through every inch of my body like wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
I stepped out of the shower, the warm air still thick with steam, and reached for the towel. The soft fabric felt cool against my wet skin as I wrapped it snugly around my body, tucking the edge in place just above my chest. My skin still glistened from the water, and I let my fingers run through my damp hair, smoothing it back as I breathed.
The bathroom door was slightly open, a reminder that Dad had been here just a moment ago. The thought of it made my pulse quicken, though I told myself it was nothing. It was just us making the best of the situation.
With my towel secure, I grabbed my clothes, opened the door, and entered the room. Dad was sitting on the edge of the bed, his strong hands resting on his knees, looking up as I entered. The light was soft, casting a warm glow over his rugged face, making the lines of age and experience stand out in a way that made him seem even more solid.
I gave him a small smile as I walked past, momentarily feeling his eyes on me before I reached for my bag to pull out something to wear. The cool air brushed against my skin, reminding me how little the towel covered.
“You all set?” I asked, keeping my voice light, though I was keenly aware of the subtle tension in the room.
“Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, his voice low and rough. His tone was soft, though, like he was trying to ensure everything felt okay between us.
I nodded, pulling out my clothes and turning back toward the bathroom to change. “Just need a minute,” I said softly, the moment hanging between us as I stepped away.
I hurried to slip into my silky pyjama shorts and matching tank top. The fabric was cool and smooth, clinging gently in all the right places. As I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the straps of the tank top, I couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious. The way the material hugged my body made me more aware of every curve, the soft sheen catching the dim light from the bathroom.
I glanced at my reflection, running my fingers through my damp hair. Standing there in such delicate clothes, knowing Dad was just outside, I felt quite vulnerable. I breathed, brushing it off as just nerves after the long day.
I stepped out of the bathroom, giving him a soft smile as I walked to the bed. The room felt even smaller in the dim light, but I didn’t mind. I turned off the lamp, leaving the space in comfortable darkness. Sliding under the covers next to him, I let out a small sigh, the warmth of the bed a welcome relief after such a long day.
We chatted for a bit, a quiet conversation that seemed to melt away the day’s tension. His voice was low and steady, the kind of sound that made it easy to relax. Before long, we drifted off to sleep, the room peaceful and still.
At some point, I woke up, unsure of what had stirred me. It was the middle of the night—dark outside with no sound except for the quiet rhythm of our breathing. I lay there for a moment, blinking into the darkness, feeling the calm of the night settle over me.
I noticed that his arm was wrapped around me, and his hand was resting on my breast. It seemed as if he was having a delightful dream. My heart raced with exhilaration as I basked in the thrill of the illicit. My own father’s hand gently cradled my breasts from behind as he held me close, with my back facing him. The taboo nature of the situation only served to fuel my longing.
I slowly reached up and placed my hand over his, applying pressure to his hand on my tit. It was as if he was squeezing me, and it felt amazing. I got brave at this point and slowly pulled my tank top up to expose my tits for his hand. It took a while, but soon, I had my tank top up, and his hand was now on my naked breast.
I was breathing deeply, enough that I had to keep my mouth open to try to hide the noise. I wanted more and tried to think of what I could do that wouldn’t wake him. I slowly reached down and pulled my panties past my ass so that my naked ass was pressed up against him.
With gentle movements, I slowly reached up and placed my hand over his, applying delicate pressure to his hand on my breast. The sensation was intoxicating as if he was squeezing me, and I craved more. Feeling bold, I slowly lifted my tank top, revealing my bare chest to his touch.
My breath hitched as his hand made contact with my skin, and I couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp. I wanted to deepen our connection but didn’t want to wake him. I slowly moved my hand down, sliding my shorts and panties past my hips, leaving my bare bottom pressed against him.
He shifted slightly when I performed this action, causing me to pause. After a moment of stillness, I leaned back against him. I could feel his arousal pressing against me, an exciting thought that a thin layer of fabric just separated my father’s manhood. At that point, I couldn’t resist the temptation, even if he woke up. I yearned for more.
I reached back between us and gently moved my hand downward until it made contact with the soft fabric of his boxers. As I searched for his member, I noticed the opening at the front of his underwear. I moved my fingers inside, and there I discovered him. I was, indeed, touching my father’s manhood! I revelled in my actions’ forbidden and thrilling nature and couldn’t stop. The sensation was incredible, and I felt no remorse. Why should I stop now?
I continued to explore the hefty head of his manhood, feeling it twitch and pulse against my fingertips. Gradually, it emerged from the confines of his boxers, growing and hardening under my gentle touch. I marvelled at the contrast between its firmness and softness and delighted in the warmth and rhythm of its heartbeat that pulsed through it.
As he reached full attention, a bead of pre-cum glistened on the tip of his cock. I couldn’t resist the temptation and brought my hand to my mouth, savouring the delicious taste. I craved for more, longing for the moment when his climax would spill into my mouth.
The feeling of his hardness pressing against my bare ass was intoxicating, and I found myself lost in the fantasy of him being inside me. I searched for a subtle way to make this happen, but nothing came to mind.
That was until he stirred in his sleep.
He shifted slightly, rolling just far enough onto his back to expose his length. Drawn to the allure of the revealed form before me, I carefully eased the covers aside.
The soft light from the motel corridor revealed a stunning specimen, the size and contours inviting my attention. I leaned in closely, eager to examine each detail of this exquisite masterpiece. Inhaling deeply, his scent filled me, adding to the experience.
My fingertips brushed gently over his firm length, following its shape. I guided his cock upright, admiring the sight before me. Slowly, I lowered my tongue to meet its tip, savouring the taste of his arousal.
As I took the rounded head into my mouth, I revelled in its texture and warmth. Lost in the moment, my hand wandered down between my thighs, finding comfort in the rhythm of pleasure.
His gentle pulsing against my tongue only heightened my craving. I began to move, my lips tracing a slow, deliberate path along his length, all while continuing to touch myself. The sensation became overwhelming, and I worried I might awaken my unsuspecting subject – but the desire was now beyond my control.
I eagerly took in as much of him as I could, feeling his length fill my mouth and cut off my air. I savoured the sensation, yet there was still more to experience. This is where things grew intense. His hand rested on the back of my head, and I paused, uncertain how to proceed, while his cock filled my mouth. As his grip on my head grew more robust, I carefully moved down to take him in further, wondering if he was awake or lost in a dream.
His moans of pleasure grew louder and more frequent as I continued to suck him off. Then, I heard him whisper my name, “Megan,” pushing me down harder and more profoundly. As soon as he said my name, it triggered my release. I eagerly sucked him off, my mouth salivating as I tried to please him. Suddenly, I felt the first splash of his warmth enter my mouth. As I continued to pleasure him, I moaned, lost in a dreamy state, as he continued to fill me with his essence. I swallowed as much as I could and continued to rub my pussy, fully immersed in the sensations.
After some time, he finally finished. I carefully lifted my face from his now flaccid member. Without delay, he seized my arms and drew me towards him. He then kissed me, but not a mere familial peck – his tongue delved eagerly into my mouth.
We kissed ardently for a few moments until he drew back and asked me if I was alright. I assured him I was more than satisfactory; I was in bliss. Confessing to him that I had harboured such fantasies in my younger years, I admitted my long-held desire for this encounter with him. We conversed for a while, both agreeing to keep our secret.
It was then that he inquired if I desired anything more. Considering the circumstances, I responded, permitting him to do as he pleased. As I remained on top of him from the kiss, he gently moved my body so that I was now seated atop him, rubbing my slick pussy against his resurgent arousal. He quickly grew hard again, and I asked if the proceeding was acceptable. His only response was a faint smile and the assurance that he would continue if I were comfortable. I signalled my permission, and with deliberate slowness, I positioned the tip of his cock at my drenched entrance.
He paused briefly, and we locked gazes, then he steadily pushed his cock inside me. I swear that it felt like an eternity before he fully buried himself within me, yet I revelled in every inch that filled and expanded me. I held myself there for a while, savouring the indescribable sensation, not only of a capable cock inside me but also the realization that it was my father responsible for this act. Eventually, I began to slide up and down on him, finding delight in the way his shape reached the perfect spot within me, eliciting a torrent of wetness that coated him and dripped onto his balls.
We spent hours lost in passion, exploring various positions throughout the night. The intensity of our love-making left his essence deep within me, absorbed into my being as I surrendered to sleep’s embrace.
Upon waking, I found him already enveloped in a protective spoon, his warmth seeping into my soul. He gently asked if I wished to discuss the night’s events, but I assured him I felt content, relishing our shared pleasure. I invited him to continue, encouraging his desires as often as he pleased.
The following day, we embarked on a journey to another state, checking into a hotel together. With a conspiratorial grin, he referred to me as his wife when addressing the front desk clerk, sending shivers down my spine and fueling my desire for more.
I played along, introducing myself as his newlywed partner when the waiter approached our table, delighting in the stunned surprise mirrored in my father’s expression. We laughed and revelled in our shared secret, cherishing the forbidden thrill.
Once back at the hotel, I proposed showering together, and he reciprocated with tenderness, washing my hair and caressing my entire body. I returned the favour, soaping him from head to toe before teasing him with my mouth, feeling his strength and dominance as he claimed me, making me submit to him entirely.
I craved his control and adored his power over me. The memory still lingers, leaving me lost in euphoria. He left earlier today, but I eagerly await his return, feeling his essence leak from me, a constant reminder of our shared intimacy.