Fuck me.

People say that when life is getting them down. Something bad happens: "Fuck ... me!"

If you think about it, why are you saying that you want someone to have sex with you when things turn to shit?

I'm thinking about this because that's what happened. Life took a turn for the worse, and then...

Months ago...

At 18 years old you think you can take on the world; that you're immortal. Usually something happens that, in no uncertain terms, tells you that you're wrong. A broken bone, or a near-death experience in a car, or...

... or your Mom suddenly dying. One moment she was with us and life was good, and the next she was being rushed to the hospital. Soon after she was dead, the victim of a brain hemorrhage. The doctor said it could have happened to anyone.

But it wasn't just anyone ... it was Mom! My Mommy...

Dad took us back home after we left the hospital. It was just him and his two daughters now ... well, stepdaughters. He had met Mom 11 years ago, when Stacy and I (I'm Robyn) were just 5 and 7, and they had married almost 2 years later. We didn't remember our biological dad (BioDad, as Mom used to call him), who took off before Stacy was born. In our minds Cal was our Dad.

It took a while for all of us to get to sleep that first night. I just lay in bed, tossing and turning. Finally, it was 1 AM and I had to pee.

As I left my room I could sense someone was in the kitchen. My eyes adjusted to the light and I could see Dad shuffling about in there.

"Dad?" I called. He turned to me and seemed to pause. I moved closer. As I did so I realized he wasn't wearing a shirt. And a moment later I realized he also wasn't wearing pants ... or underwear!

"Ack!" I gurgled, averting my eyes. "Dad! What're you doing in here, naked?!" He didn't answer. "Dad?" I turned back to him, keeping my eyes on his face. He just stood there.

"DAD!" I yelled.

He dropped like a stone. As he hit the floor he started screaming and screaming, his limbs flailing. Stacy bolted out of her room, looking as terrified as I felt.

I was about to call 9-1-1 when Dad stopped. Just ... stopped. No movement, no noise. I leaned close and could hear him breathing slowly. He was asleep.

He seemed to be okay so we covered him with a blanket and went back to our own beds, frightened and confused.

In the morning Dad asked if he had been sleepwalking last night, as he had woken up on the kitchen floor. We said he had, and told him what had happened.

"I'm sorry girls," he said, looking extremely tired. "I used to do that when I was growing up; haven't done it in at least 15 years. Hopefully it won't happen again, but if it does please don't try to wake me. My doctor said that the shock could..."

We waited. Dad looked sheepish. "I have a heart murmur. A shock like that and I could have a heart attack. Just leave me to wander about ... maybe lightly direct me back to bed, but no loud noises or jolting, okay?"

Stacy and I looked at each other. We could lose Dad too! We turned back to him and nodded. We would make sure he stayed safe.

We stayed home from school and Dad from work for a few days. When one of us would cry the other two would group hug so we could share strength. Dad hadn't sleepwalked since that first night.

When the day of the funeral arrived we buried Mom and said our goodbyes. The rain made it seem like the whole world was crying, not just us. During the reception I decided to ask Gran, Dad's Mom, about his sleepwalking.

"Oh dear, he's doing that again, is he?" she asked, looking around for Dad.

I took her hand. "Gran, is it true that waking him up while he's sleepwalking could kill him?"

She looked sad. "Yes, dear. I thought he grew out of it, but the recent loss of your Mom must have affected him deeply." She thought for a moment. "He'll need your help Robyn. Please do what you can for him." It seemed like she wanted to say something else, but instead she patted my hand and turned away.

That night I awoke to the sound of the kitchen chairs being moved around. I grabbed my bathrobe and went to see what was going on.

Dad was in the kitchen again, as naked as before, moving the table and chairs into a new configuration. I realized as he pushed the end of the table against the wall that it made more space in the kitchen's dining area, but now there was only room for 3 chairs. Was his subconscious trying to adapt to the new family dynamic by doing this?

When he was done I whispered that he should go to bed, and I gently steered him that way. He complied and then I did likewise.

Dad didn't sleepwalk for a couple of days, and then one night I awoke to find that I was not alone in my bed!

I turned to see him sleeping next to me in the dim light coming through the window from the street lamp. He was just sleeping, not in that weird in-between state. He was, again, naked.

He was on top of the covers and I was under them, so I just let him sleep there and returned to dreamland. In the morning he was gone.

Dad, Stacy, and I returned to work and school, respectively. It was hard, but the familiarity of school made it easier as the day went on.

Not so for Dad. He was already home when we got back after school. He said he broke down and cried during a meeting and had to come home. We hugged him and had a good cry together.

In the early morning I woke up with "the itch". I decided to have a shower and take care of it while everyone else slept. As the warm water cascaded down my (if I don't say so myself) sexy teenaged body I played with my clit and dipped my fingers into my pussy as my other hand tweaked one of my nipples. Soon I was gasping and shaking as I came. It was a relief to experience some pleasure after the horrible week I'd had.

I dried off, tied the towel above my boobs so it hung like a short dress on me, and then opened the bathroom door to let out some of the steam that was fogging up the mirror.

That fogginess was why I didn't see Dad coming up from behind me until his arms were around me, one hand going to my left boob while the other slipped under the towel, sliding up my thigh towards my pussy. He started to kiss the back of my neck.

"Oh!" I cried out in surprise, and then I mentally cursed myself. Despite this sudden crazy assault I realized that Dad must have been sleepwalking again, as he had never touched me in a sexual way; not ever. I needed to stop him, but not wake him up!

Except ... his hand was manipulating my clit by this point. My towel had fallen to the floor, and his other hand, unblocked, was now squeezing my boob. I was completely naked, with my likewise completely naked stepfather sexually assaulting me in his sleep!

"Daddeee..." I hissed.

"Oh, Diane..." I heard him whisper, "I miss you baby."

He thought I was Mom! What could I do?

I felt something hard bump the bottom of one of my butt cheeks, and I jumped. That ... was that his cock?

Dad was actually pretty good with his hands. He was making my clit and boob feel really good. That, combined with the passionate kisses on the back of my neck, was starting to make the pleasurable feelings stronger than my fear.

Throw water in his face? Call out for Stacy? All of those would probably wake him up. Oh, right...

"Dad, go to bed," I said quietly but forcefully.

In response Dad lowered his hips and I felt what was definitely his hard cock move under my butt and forward, the tip just about reaching its target. No, he mustn't! "Dad..." I started to repeat.

Dad pushed my head forward over the sink, bending me over and giving him a better angle. I felt the tip of his cock nudge between my pussy lips.

NO! I tried to move to the side but by this time he had transferred his hands to my hips, shoving my pelvis forward into the front of the sink and holding me fast.

I felt his cock start to push into me slowly. "Daddeee, nooo..." I said, but not too loudly. My vagina was well lubricated from my shower masturbation; there was no pain as he pushed more of his cock inside me. In fact, I'm ashamed to say it but, it actually felt good!

'No, not good, ' a voice somewhere in the back of my mind cried, 'this is bad!'

Daddy pulled his cock out a bit and relief washed over me, but only for a moment before he pushed it back in harder, sinking it even deeper inside my hot, wet channel. I gasped at the sensation that I had only felt once before with a boy that had caught me in a weak moment a couple months back. That, however, had been with a condom, and this felt even better skin on skin!

No condom ... oh God ... as Dad once again pulled back a bit and then thrust even deeper inside me I struggled to remember my monthly cycle. Why couldn't I think straight?

Dad thrust a few more times, getting deeper and deeper inside my possibly fertile pussy each time. Finally, he was pressed against my butt cheeks and his cock was all the way inside. I felt so incredibly full!

He moved his hands from my hips up to my breasts, squeezing and pinching. I really like playing with them when I masturbate ... this additional pleasure didn't help the situation.

Dad started to thrust into me, slowly at first. I was gasping, overwhelmed by the pleasurable stretching feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out while my boobs were being groped and my nipples tweaked. My mind, overwhelmed by pleasurable sensations, was no longer trying to work out how to stop this. Drool slipped out of the corner of my mouth.

Dad was now thrusting harder, getting a good rhythm as my hips rebounded off of the sink and back into his next thrust.

I felt it coming, a wave of energy rising like a tide from deep within my sex, growing with each thrust. 'No, ' I said to myself, 'no, I can't cum on Daddy's cock... '

The overwhelming sensations, combined with the thought of the forbidden thing Daddy was doing to me, set me off. I grunted, pushing back at his cock as it sawed into me, his thick shaft touching me where no one else ever had. "Aah!" I gasped, my pussy squeezing again and again as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over and through me.

Finally, shaking, my orgasm subsided. Miraculously, Dad hadn't cum inside me while my pussy was massaging his cock, but his thrusts were getting faster, almost feverish in their intensity.

I could think better now. I couldn't tell him he was fucking his own daughter, but...

"Cam, honey," I said in what I hoped was close to Mom's voice, "pull out, okay?"

Dad was really ramming it into me by this point. It was starting to feel good again.

"Please, honey, pull out!"

He was close ... so close...

I had another idea: "Let me suck you off!"

Dad pulled out suddenly and turned me around. My legs, like spaghetti, couldn't hold me up so I fell to my knees. Dad's purple cock, which I could only describe as turgid, was right in my face.

I quickly took it into my mouth, or at least as much as I could get in my mouth, which was a little over half. I sucked on it, tasting salt from a dribble of liquid which came out of the tip. I had never given a blowjob before, so I didn't know what to do besides suck.

With a frustrated sound Dad grabbed my head and started to thrust into my mouth. I did my best not to choke as his cock hit the back of my throat repeatedly. Within a few seconds Dad grunted and a torrent of hot, thick liquid blasted into my mouth. Some of it went directly down my throat. Some spilled out from the sides of my mouth.

Another spurt, this one smaller, splashed against the roof of my mouth, and then another. Finally, I pulled back and Dad's cock slipped from my mouth. The last spurt from his cock sprayed lazily on my boobs. A splash of pearly white spilled out of my mouth, down my front and onto the bathroom tile as I coughed, choking, trying to swallow the rest.

Dad left the room. Within a few minutes I could stand again, though shakily. My entire torso was a sticky white mess, from my breasts down to my pubic hair.

Ack! Dad's cum was soaking into my pubes! I had to get rid of it quick! I got back into the shower, blasting hot water on me and scrubbing hard to get that stuff off.

When I was done I toweled off again, though this time I made sure to keep the door locked, and thought about what had happened. Dad had fucked me! But it wasn't actually Dad ... he thought I was Mom. Is it rape when the rapist doesn't know he's raping? I didn't have an answer for that.

What I did know was that Dad's sexual prowess had brought me to a shattering orgasm. What did that mean? I had never thought about Dad in a sexual manner before, but his intensity, the taboo aspect of what we had been doing, and that big cock...

I didn't have an answer for that either.

I was eating breakfast when Dad's voice sounded from behind me.

"Hey, sweetie, how are you this morning?"

I jumped.

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to startle you, Robyn," he said, getting some oatmeal.

I watched him as he got his breakfast ready, searching for any sign that what had happened earlier was purposeful rather than subconscious. He noticed me looking after a few minutes.

"Everything okay?" he said, concerned.

"Yeah," I said carefully, "just ... sore." It was true; his cock had really stretched me.

Dad came to the table with his prepared oatmeal. "Don't overdo it, honey. Too much exercise can be bad for you too."

As he ate breakfast I excused myself and headed to school.

Dad was actually in his early 30's. Mom had been older, almost 40, when she died. I thought about Dad, his smile, his hugs ... trying to recall all the warm familial feelings as I sat in class.

Then, unbidden, the feeling of him pressing me against the bathroom sink as he sawed his cock into me, making me cum, washed over me. My nipples instantly got hard and I could feel my pussy start to lubricate.

I had trouble concentrating on my work. I crossed my legs, rubbing my thighs together, trying to scratch "the itch". Finally, I excused myself to the washroom where I quickly rubbed one out.

When I got home Stacy and Dad were hugging on the couch, crying. They beckoned for me to join them. I hesitated, still remembering the last time Dad had touched me.

Seeing the confusion on their faces, I took a breath and sat on the other side of Dad, hugging him. His arm came around my shoulders as he and Stacy continued to cry.

His touch was warm and supportive; not at all sexual. If he wanted he could have moved his hand lower to my bum or slipped it around my back a little further to caress my breast and Stacy wouldn't have noticed. He did neither.

This was the real Dad, the supportive, loving man who had come into our lives so long ago to raise children not his own. I relaxed against his chest.

That night I awoke to a hand on my hip, pulling my butt back into the little spoon position. The big spoon, of course, was Dad, his hard cock nested between my butt cheeks and his hot breath on the back of my neck.

Not again! I thought. Why hadn't I thought to wear clothes to bed?

Dad's hand slipped between my thighs and his fingers started to caress my pussy lips and clit. In my post-sleep brain fog I realized that I had just been woken from a sexy dream where a man who looked a lot like Dad had been fucking me from behind, much like Dad had done that morning. My pussy was already wet, and once Dad noticed that he shifted his hips down, his cock slipping out from between my butt cheeks. I then felt the tip of it nudging between my pussy lips.

I tried to move my body away but his hand had returned to my hip, holding me in place. I struggled to twist, to free myself. Dad grabbed my hip tightly and used it to leverage himself up onto his knees, trapping my lower leg under him. He grabbed my upper leg and pushed the knee high. He then returned his cock head to between my vaginal lips, pushing insistently.

"Nooo..." I moaned.

His cock slipped into me, the lubrication produced during my sex dream and the leverage this new position afforded him making it easy. I gasped as my stepdad's thick, hard penis once again entered my inexperienced love channel, stretching it to accommodate. I also again felt the first stirrings of forbidden pleasure.

Dad pulled out a little -- I knew better than to think he was pulling out this time -- and then he pushed in again, this time hard, knocking the wind out of me. His cock rushed deep inside me, almost hurting as it stretched out the deepest parts of my vagina. Then, instead of pulling back for another thrust, he started to grind.

This was new. Because the base of his cock was right against my pussy lips, as he rotated his hips his cock angled itself deep inside of me, its head and hard shaft caressing the walls of my pussy. It slid along my inner flesh, first to the right, then upward, to the left, and then down towards my butt, which also caused the base of his cock to apply pressure to my clit. It felt incredible!

He did it again, swirling that hard dick and stirring up overwhelmingly pleasurable feelings deep inside me, where only he had touched.

I was gasping. Something was approaching, like an oncoming train, deep inside my body, the tunnel it was traveling through vibrating harder, harder.

And then I was cumming. I cried out in pleasure, my body shaking as my stepdad's incredible rotation technique gave me the greatest orgasm I'd ever experienced.

Before that orgasm finished Dad started to thrust into me. My cum was extended by the unrelenting jackhammer that my Dad's cock became. Soon he was pulling almost all the way out before jamming it home. I could swear I could feel his babymaker hitting my cervix.

Babymaker ... cervix...

Mom had gotten a hysterectomy so she wouldn't have any more kids before she had even met Dad. I'd never asked, but I was pretty sure that Dad was fully functional in that department, and my healthy young body definitely was! After what happened that morning I had calculated out that today, while not the most fertile time of the month for me, was still a dangerous day in my cycle because sperm could live inside the female body for several days. I couldn't let him cum inside me!

"Cam, honey," I called back to him. "let me suck you off."

It worked again! Dad pulled out of me, leaving my vagina feeling suddenly, almost disappointingly, empty, and flopped onto his back next to me. I quickly rolled over, between his legs, and grabbed his cock.

I had done some Internet research on blowjobs, just in case this ever happened again. Using what I had learned, I licked the head of his cock while jacking the shaft with my hand. After a bit of that I opened my mouth wide and engulfed as much of it as I could. I experienced a perverse feeling of pride as I heard Dad groan in pleasure.