Chapter 2

Yes Daddy Part 2;
Daddy meets mommy and granma.

Tym looked into my eyes as my cock disappeared into her sweet mouth. I ran my fingers through her glorious wavy black hair and smiled my approval.

I hadn’t figured out why she was so crazy for me. We had incredible sex; even after a year together, it was still powerful. Other than that, we had nothing in common. She liked electronic music and video games, I liked rock + roll and windsurfing.

She lived with me most of the time, and we told people I was her father. Sometimes she had her boyfriend over, and I think they even had sex in my apartment when I wasn’t around. I didn’t ask, and she didn’t tell.

We had never said we were exclusive. I could have told her to break up with him; but if she agreed, then I’d be taking responsibility I didn’t want.

Part of me expected and hoped she’d get tired of me, exhaust her daddy fetish, and move on. I mean, I loved the girl, but it wasn’t the sort of relationship that could last. That’s why I let her do and see whoever she liked, so long as she didn’t drink.

My phone rang. I had some important work going on so I answered it, but it turned out to be my little girl’s mother, Diane.

We’d never met, but we talked from time to time, arranging schedules and things.

“Can we talk?” she asked as her daughter continued her attempts to deep throat my cock. I held the phone with my shoulder and pushed Tym away, but she grinned evilly and came back.

“Sure.” I said.

“We’re having a party for Tym’s graduation. Do you want to be there?”

The girl had my balls in her hand and was earnestly pressing my penis against the back of her mouth, sucking and masticating a little.

“Wow. I guess I would, if you want me there.” I said trying to keep my voice level.

“It’s time we met, don’t you think? You really turned her around, she graduated at the top of her class thanks to you.”

Tym looked up at me, big dark eyes watering as she continued her efforts.

“What will you tell people?” I asked.

“It will only be us, my mother, and her study group. She told them you’re her biological father, didn’t she? Well, we’ll leave it at that.”

I grunted involuntarily, because something was happening at my groin. I stared into the cute young face I was holding in my hands, and she stared back with excited eyes as a wild weird undulating pressure gripped the end of my penis. Her lips were against my pelvis; she was doing it. I was in her narrow teenage throat.

“Are you alright?” Tym’s mom asked.

“Bowel emergency, have to go.” I said, disconnecting.

Tym ripped her face from my cock, gasping for air.

“I did it Daddy!” she declared triumphantly.

“What a good girl. Take you clothes off.” I told her.

“Yes, Daddy!” she agreed happily, bouncing to her little feet.

“Sit on this.” I said, holding my pulsing dick at the base.

She stood on the sofa with her feet on either side of me, her fingers laced together behind my neck, and lowered herself until her gleaming shaved vagina touched the end of my penis. She rotated her hips a little and it slipped into her. She slid down and sat facing me, holding my cock in her little body with a look of pure joy on her face, her eyes big and bright like she was doing it for the first time again.

That look of adoration; when she smiled at me that way, whether my dick was in her or not, that smile was what had me hooked. I would have preferred a woman nearer my own age, someone mature who might know what they wanted in life. But so long as Tym had that smile for me, I couldn’t give her up.

I held her ribs, stroked her back, kissed her mouth. She was 18 and I was 56. She was sexy, smart, and full of potential.

I slipped my elbows under her knees and stood, lifting her light body easily. I bent my knees and stood in the middle of my living room holding the slim girl with my penis up her middle and my hands under her tight ass.

The odd position drove her wild; she wasn’t too heavy to hold, but I wasn’t completely stable.

We fucked like that for a while; it was strenuous and fabulous, my muscles and my cock straining in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she heaved up and down, her tiny tits against my unyielding chest.

She would do anything for me, anything I asked. She cleaned, she shopped, she even cooked. She studied and got straight A’s.

She was a very, very good girl and all she wanted from me in return was sex.

Well, the truth is she wanted more that sex, she wanted love too. That would be so easy, that deadly emotional state was hammering at my stony heart, trying to get in.

I did everything else I could think of to please her of course; I took her out and bought her things. Just simple stuff, clothes and shoes, an ipad, stuffed toys, some little gizmo she wanted. She’d pretty much moved in now.

But she was not my partner; we were not equal. I was her Daddy, and she was my little girl. She did what I told her to, usually, and I rewarded her with approval and sex.

She was coming. Crying, moaning, grunting. We were wrong, perverted, addicted to each other. It was more than the age gap, it was our whole relationship that was distorted.

And we both knew it.

I held her tight as her orgasm concluded. My cock was still hard inside her as I carried her through into the bedroom.

I rolled her onto her back as I loomed over her, and then proceeded to ram the helpless compliant little girl into another orgasm. God I loved to make her come.

Her face contorted into a wild creature, a primal insane joyfulness. Her fingers dug into my back and her vagina gripped my cock tightly as I kept on fucking her, my perverted old penis pumping in and out of her equally perverted young body.

She was good for my physical condition. To help with her sobriety, I’d stopped drinking. We ate well and exercised. We had sex constantly. Despite how wrong we were for each other, we thrived together.

Were we in love though? Romantic boy-girl couple love? When we weren’t fucking we were father-daughter. But when we were fucking, it was definitely man-woman.

It was somewhat confusing.

“DADDY DADDY DADDY!” she wailed as she came again.

I wondered if the neighbors ever heard that...

So a year after our affair had started, I met her mother. I’d rehearsed my speech; platitudes, excuses, explanations, justifications for a sexual relationship that any reasonable person would describe as criminal.

I rang the bell and waited nervously. The door opened and I saw her for the first time.

Except it wasn’t the first time. We stared at each other, trying to figure out what was happening.

We knew each other.

20 years earlier, I’d gone broke and moved into my dad’s house for a while. He had a housekeeper, a Vietnamese woman, who lived in the apartment above the garage with her daughter, Bich.

Bich was 16 at the time, and so beautiful that my head would stop functioning every time I saw her. She was blisteringly smart too, already graduating from high school after jumping a year. I was infatuated; everyone who met her was infatuated. We’d talked, flirted, spent time together when no one was around.

But I never seduced her.

She was too precious, too young, far too wonderful for a guy like me. Besides, her mother had intervened.

“Bich.” I whispered.

“John.” She replied, staring at me through those unforgettable dark eyes. “What are you... ? Oh my God. You’re Tym’s boyfriend, aren’t you?”

I’d never asked Tym why her Vietnamese mother had a Christian name; but I didn’t need to ask why she’d changed it.

My head was spinning; what did this mean, how did it happen?

About 20 years earlier, I’d had a messy divorce from my first wife and I was broke. I reluctantly moved into my dad’s house for a while. He was a big ass lawyer and asshole.

I never got along with my old man; and the friction between us was as gritty as ever. We stayed out of each other’s way.

His housekeeper lived with her daughter in the apartment I’d built over the garage back when I’d still lived at home.

That girl I was infatuated with was standing before me now. She was my girlfriend’s mother. And as I looked into her dark eyes, the longing I’d felt for her welled up inside me again.

And then I saw her mother inside the house.

Shame, embarrassment, self loathing nearly caused me to just run away. Because I’d had sex with that woman; the mother of the girl I really wanted, the grandmother of the girl I was now living with.

Cucthao, Tym’s grandmother, was around 40 years old back then. A milf back before the term was coined. She’d come from Vietnam with her young daughter a decade earlier but still had an accent.

She was a handsome woman; not a jaw dropping beauty like her daughter, but attractive in her own right. A decent ass, solid hips and legs, and breasts that were quite decent.

When she slipped into my bedroom early one morning, we both knew why. She’d come to fuck me; because we were mutually attracted, and also to prevent anything from happening between her precious young daughter and me.

Cucthao was wearing the loose trousers and dowdy blouse she wore for housework. My father had left for work. There was no one around. The housekeeper looked into my eyes as she slowly released her long black hair, then she just looked at me.

I’d never seen her hair loose before. It was always tied up, imprisoned in a bun or a coiled braid. I’d never really noticed, but now I understood.

Her hair was magnificent, it was sexy, it was a statement of health and femininity. Letting down her hair was as sexy as exposing her tits.

Well, almost.

I just looked at her from the bed. The housekeeper lifted her eyebrows in inquiry. She didn’t need to say anything.

The offer was clear, and fair too. It would be wrong for me to have a relationship with 16 year old Bich, and her mother was offering me an alternative. A way to satisfy my need; not for an orgasm, but for touch, love, approval. I was at a low point of my life, and I needed those things.

She was a single woman, and it was reasonable to assume she had needs too.

She was older than me, but not too much. She was an attractive adult women, not the blistering irresistible beauty that her daughter was.

I nodded my acceptance of the lewd unspoken agreement.

The housekeeper peeled off her tee-shirt. She unhooked her bra and let her breasts free. They hung down with large nipples, yet they were very appealing.

Her skin tone was pale, almost white but just slightly tinted.

And still, we said nothing. As if a single word would break this pact apart, reveal the dirty secret that I was infatuated with her daughter, but willing to take the mother.

She stood still at the foot of my bed, her hair glistening in the morning light, black with silver strands flowing about her shoulders. Eyes that had seen too much already, a mind that had known conflicts and trauma that she never spoke of. A woman of mystery. A refugee, an Immigrant.

I swung my legs out of bed and stood. I approached; I was naked, my cock lifting slightly but not erect.

She stood still, breasts quivering with delicious conflicting emotions. She needed love, she wanted sex, but at the same time, she was afraid.

I reached out and put my hands on her naked shoulders.

She was small, with a tiny bit of extra weight that covered the well muscled frame of a working woman. Her chin was slightly square, but her eyes were utterly soft. Slanted and dark, exotic and very sexy.

I slid my fingers up her neck, and gripped her earlobes between my thumbs and forefingers. My cock was screaming with anticipation now; I hadn’t been laid in months.

Yet as I gently pulled her body against myself, I felt regret mixing with my lust. I knew her daughter was too young, too smart, too beautiful for me to have. I was crazy about the schoolgirl, because I knew I could have had her. The gorgeous kid was half my age, and oozing hormones.

So I kissed her mother gently as her hands ran up and down my naked back. It felt good, really good. She reached into my pants and her small fingers wrapped around my stiff hot penis, squeezing me with eager intent.

There was no going back; Cucthao was an adult woman with the right to choose, Bich was a child. Innocent and horny, delicious and ready, but a child.

I guess I had stronger scruples back then.

The remainder of her clothes soon fell to the floor and I pushed the Vietnamese housekeeper onto the bed. Her short legs opened wide and I looked into her pink open center, framed by straight glossy black hair. My cock was aching to be in her, but what I really wanted was to be against her body, to feel her limbs wrap around me, to look at her face as I fucked her.