Darling Daddy Dearest
Copyright© 2025 by R.R. Ryan
Chapter 2: When the Dingbat Came Between Us
Romance Sex Story: Chapter 2: When the Dingbat Came Between Us - The sweetest Fruit is always Forbidden! In a world where boundaries blur and desires ignite, Carol Ann is entangled in a complex web of passion. Amidst the throes of a forbidden desires with the man she adores—her father, Edward—their love becomes a dangerous dance of seduction and manipulation. As Carol Ann weaves her intricate schemes to bind Edward to her forever, their flames of passion threaten to consume them whole.
Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Reluctant Incest Father Daughter Spanking Cream Pie First Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Small Breasts
From Carol Ann’s Private Diary
As I remember this dreadful thing and write it, the incidents flow from memory and my words unfold as if it were now. In a perfect world, my mother’s body would have been enough for him, and his for her.
If that’d been the case, she’d never have left. Or, maybe, in a perfect world, I’d have been old enough to satisfy him, and she wouldn’t’ve been needed.
Even then, even at sixteen, even knowing it’s wrong, my mind goes there. My love for my father is always what everything is about. Something catches my attention and draws me to wall I share with Edward, darling Daddy dearest’s room.
It’s late, and it’s loud, and it’s clear he isn’t alone in his bed. The slut’s name is Donna, or Diana. Something with a D. He’s fucking her good, and she wants the world to understand. My fingers are between my legs, wet and insistent, before I realized what they’re doing.
This is my ritual when Daddy brings a woman home, and his deep moans drown out the sitcom laugh tracks that I use as a cover. I wait until the cries of his lover rise above the clamor, until they seep into my room and into my head.
Then, and only then, I bury the remote under a pillow and touch myself. Matching my rhythm to the creaking bedsprings. I picture his chiseled chest and how small it would make me feel pressing against it. How my green eyes would look locked on his.
He doesn’t call the bimbo by name, but she shrieks his so loud it hurts.
The bitch is getting fucked good, and she’s trying to announce it to the stock in the fields. It’s not like she’s lying, though; Edward knows what he’s doing. I keep a slow pace with my fingers, teasing myself like he would.
If I were the one in there, I needn’t to make so much fake noise. He’d hear me gasping for air. He’d see how much I wanted it body shaking and how fast I cum, how hard I pulled him to me. I close my eyes, and I can almost smell him, his raw heat mixing with her nasty, sex sweat and my own perspiration and pooling juices.
In my mind, it’s my red hair that he grips in his fists, my small tits that he mauls with his mouth and his hands. He could fuck me all night, all week, all year, and I’d still want more. That’s just the effect he has on me.
Protecting myself from the truth, I blame the whole on my virginity and his virility. After all, I don’t know better. But fuck it all, it isn’t true. The girls at school all giggle about how they want someone with experience, how they wished on a star for someone strong.
They’d want Edward, too, if they got him the way I did.
The banging of the headboard resonated through the hall, growing louder ... faster ... harder. I can’t hear her now over the slap of his body against hers, but I get that she’s got her mouth open, screaming her approval.
The ooze is strong, and my thighs slicked with my discharge as his name builds in my throat. I push in deeper, imagining his size inside me, filling me until I can’t think straight. It’s obscene how much I want him, how much I let myself want him, and that’s exactly what makes it so fucking good.
I’m careful not to bust my hymen, saving it for Daddy.
The headboard crashes like thunder. The bedposts threaten to snap. And all at once, I can hear her again, louder and wilder than ever.
“Oh, god!” she yells. “It’s so big! So big!” There’s a quick, masculine grunt. It’s hard, and then it’s over.
“Fuck! Yes!” she screams. He comes with her, and so do I.
After a minute of heavy breathing, I can hear his rumbling voice.
“That’s amazing,” he says. He sounds like he means it. “You’re amazing.”
She laughs. “We were amazing.”
“Yeah, I guess we were.” I wonder if he’d say the same about us.
When I hear the shower, I imagine him washing her from him. Throwing her cheap nastiness to the side like something to be disposed of. My fingers are still buried between my legs, the bedsprings still in my ears. Even through the muffling of the bathroom door, I can hear their stupid conversation.
“You think we woke her?” asks Miss Big Tits.
“No,” he says. “Carol Ann could sleep through a nuclear blast.”
They laugh, as if a nuclear blast is some silly thing. As if I am. They get dressed, still giggling, and head downstairs. A few minutes later, I hear the front door slam. I hear the bimbo’s car roar to life. Only then do I pull my hand out of my panties, glistening and spent.
I wonder what it would be like if she didn’t make it home. If they the cunt didn’t make it past the next traffic light. I think about meteorites, about gasoline, about divine intervention. Then I close my eyes. And as I drift into sleep, as a smug smirk paints my face, I hear his voice in my dreams.
“We were amazing,” Edward says, holding me close. But that was then, and we’re three years past then. I haven’t dated a boy since that night.
My nightgown rides my thighs, clings to my hips, sheer fabric so delicate and fine it might dissolve right into my skin. The lace trim fits perfectly on my tiny breasts, barely covers my ass. Lacy. Frilly.
I love it and wish Daddy could see it. I cut class and left school before I even got there, but he’s not home to catch me, to scold me, to maybe punish me. When he whips my ass he’s so fucking turned on. It doesn’t matter. I take a long shower and resist using the massager. When I slip into bed, I don’t bother with panties.
I clutch my stuffed panda. I’m so wet it seeps right into his fur, and I fuck him as I moan like Daddy is right there to hear me. Would he tell me what a bad girl I am? Would he punish me? My little nightgown slips over my hips, clings to me, damp and tight and see-through.
When I shut my eyes, it’s Daddy’s lap I’m riding. Daddy’s big hands holding my hips and pulling me closer. Daddy. Daddy. His name breaks from my lips as I come. I tremble, pant, go at it harder.
To read this story you need a
Registration + Premier Membership
If you have an account, then please Log In
or Register (Why register?)
(5.0 / 1 review)
$3.49
(3.0 / 2 reviews)
$1.24