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Daddy's Drunken Daughter
Daddy's Drunken {John Jabbin} {Mf inc NC}
jjabbin@yahoo.com
Other at:
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Jabbin/
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If you're a minor, don't read this. If it's illegal in
your country to be in possession of about sex,
please destroy all copies of this work. Practice safe
sex reading please.
Daddy's Drunken
by John Jabbin
I heard a noise in the middle of the night. I woke up
and not my because I'm the lighter sleeper. Laura
could sleep through anything. But once I'm awake, I
hear noises all through the house and can't get back to
sleep until I know everything is all right.
It was probably just Alyssa, our seventeen-year-old
daughter. She was suppose to be home hours ago, but if
she had arrived on time, she hadn't woken me up. That
meant she probably had come home very late.
We were trying to give her more responsibility. She was
almost eighteen. This was her last year in high school
and soon she'd be going off to college. I stumbled out
of bed and threw on my robe to go see what she was up
to at this hour of the night.
I found the front door partially open. Damn it, Alyssa,
I thought to myself, how are you ever going to make it
on your own if you can't even close the door behind
you?
I followed a trail of strewn sweaters and sneakers,
picking each up in turn until I got to Alyssa's room.
The light was on, but no Alyssa. That's when I noticed
the light on in her bathroom and the door half open.
"Alyssa, are you home, baby?" I called out softly at
the door. No answer.
"Alyssa, are you in there, baby?" Still no answer.
I nudged open the door. My, what a sight greeted my
eyes!
My Alyssa was sprawled on the floor, dressed
only in her and a short, tight halter top. It
looked as though she had been hugging the commode and
had keeled over on her side in a drunken stupor. Her
hair was disheveled; her make-up was a mess. She was
totally fucked up!
"Ah dammit, Alyssa, is this what you call being
responsible? Geez, at least flush the damn when
you throw up."
I wet a washcloth with cold water and flushed the
toilet before bending down on the floor beside her. I
wiped her face, trying to get at least the bulk of the
mess off. I guess I was lucky that she hadn't thrown up
all over the floor. The front of her was soaked,
but other than that, I think she made it to the
in time to puke her guts out. She literally reeked of
alcohol, too.
I don't think she even could tell I was washing her
face off. There was literally no response at all to my
ministrations.
I had a couple of options. I could wake up Laura, but
then we'd be up all night with her bitching about -MY-
irresponsible daughter. Or I could try to clean her up
and put her to bed myself.
I didn't really see that I had a choice.
After wiping up her face, I tried to determine a course
of action. The halter would have to go. It was sticky
with vomit and it smelled like liquor too, a nasty
combination.
Even so, I was hesitant. I hadn't seen Alyssa's
since she was fourteen, and even then only briefly. She
had been showering in our bathroom on a Saturday
afternoon for some reason and I had walked in on her
unexpected. Still, she hadn't seen me and I had
lingered, looking at her slender body as she washed. I
still remember the way her and ass had looked
that day with the water cascading off of her as she
twirled under the spray.
I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? I
hadn't thought about that for years.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. I had tried not to
think about it for years. Sometimes I had not been so
successful.
Alyssa was certainly a mess. Maybe she needed a shower
to clean up. It would only be the right thing to do,
wouldn't it? Isn't that what they do with drunks in the
movies to sober them up? They put them under a cold
shower.
But not with that on. Maybe it would shrink or
something. Maybe I should really remove her halter just
to make sure it didn't shrink. It was such a mess,
anyway.
I propped Alyssa up between me and the bathtub and,
taking the hem of the halter in both hands, began to
slowly strip it off her.
My breath caught in my throat. They were gorgeous!
Alyssa's were gorgeous! My was a honey
blonde with skin that tanned easily, but it was winter
and her stomach and chest were fair under her blouse.
She had a slender belly and two lush mounds of tit
flesh that wobbled as the blouse came off over her
head. Each was capped with a soft brown nipple
that made my teeth sweat.
Oh man, I had to think about something else! I ran the
washcloth under the water again, only this time I ran
warm, soothing water. That blouse had been such a mess.
Her neck and her chest would have to be wiped off.
Somebody had to do it.
I laid her back gently onto the bathmat and knelt over
my daughter, gently wiping her lovely, thin neck. Each
stroke of the cloth went lower and lower. I tried not
to look at her, tried not to stare at the wonderfully
tender flesh of my only child. Tried not to see the
firm as my hands passed over them, separated
only by the rough washcloth. It was rough, wasn't it?
Far too rough.
Forgive me, baby, my thoughts echoed. Daddy didn't mean
to use such a rough cloth.
I knelt uncontrollably and took a soft nipple into my
mouth, tonguing her tender flesh compulsively.
"Oh Alyssa, " I murmured into each soft tit in turn.
"Oh baby. So beautiful."
I kissed the smooth undersides of each breast,
the warm flesh into my mouth, caressing it with my
tongue. I watched her face for any reaction whatsoever,
but there was not so much as a flutter of an eyelid. I
raised her arms over her head and rubbed my face into
her armpit, rubbing her scent and smell all over my
face and in my hair. She was intoxicating. In a very
short time, I was almost as drunk as she was.
My mouth wandered aimlessly down her belly, my tongue
dipped into her navel. I the supple flesh of her
abdomen. Then I wandered even farther down. Without
daring to think about the consequences, not wanting to
consider stopping, I went even farther down.
I lay my head on my daughter's mound, panting. What was
I doing? What would I do if I got caught? If Alyssa
woke up? If Laura walked into the room? This was the
most insane thing I had ever done in my life.
I breathed deeply, taking in my daughter's musky aroma.
She filled my lungs. The smell of her stirred me up
like some great beast. Some primordial, animalistic
portion of my mind seemed to take control, to grip me
and hold me tight in its grasp.
Alyssa was so ripe, so fertile. She was a field ready
for planting. She was the mowed grass of fall ready for
bailing and harvest. She was the lush, abundant
overgrowth that needed to be cleared and plowed under.
My hands were quivering with the need to touch her. My
mouth was open and panting with the need to taste her.
Damning the consequences, I pulled off my daughter's
panties and buried my face into the warm musk of her
crotch. The soft honey of her pubic hair tickled my
lips and nose. My tongue dipped and tasted, savored and
sampled her tenderest flesh -- the rich, loamy flesh of
my daughter's cunt.
I lay on my belly and went as low as I could go,
nuzzling the deepest spot of her cleft with my nose,
snaking my tongue out to taste her puckered anus. But
it was the sweet, gentle flower of her that I
suckled and kissed the longest.
I brought each lip into my mouth and savored it. I ran
my tongue as deep as I could. As my nose bumped against
her clitoris, Alyssa moaned and her legs raised up in a
vee. It should have made me stop. Instead, it gave me
better access to her and I was mad with lust. Sliding
my tongue deep inside her, I slurped the flavor of the
sweetest a can taste, the of his own
daughter.
My erection throbbed against the cold tile of the
floor. I realized I had been humping uncontrollably, my
hips rising and falling to the depth of my tongue in
her cunt. With that realization came a deep hunger and
a craving. I had to have her. I had tasted Alyssa with
my hands and my tongue. Now I had to taste her with my
cock.
The thought was the catalyst to the deed. Such an
insane, unspeakable thought. It was the craziest idea
yet. Surely she would come awake if I fucked her. There
was no way I could get away with it, was there? Was
there any chance at all? Did I even care if I got
caught anymore?
As if to answer my own question, I found myself
spreading her legs wider. I crawled between them and
spit into my hand, slathering my saliva on my hard,
throbbing cock.
Before my rational mind could talk the rest of me out
of it, I thrust in. I sank my shaft into the depth of
her, taking her tight completely in one shove. I
screwed down, driving my cock into my like a
spike. She grunted and tossed her head to the side. I
watched, gripped with fear, expecting to see her eyes
glare at me, to catch me with my dick deep in her
forbidden vagina.
Instead, her head lulled to one side and a thin thread
of saliva fell from her open mouth onto the tile floor.
Taking that as some sick omen, I began to thrust into
Alyssa. I slid into her slick warmth easily. She
couldn't be a virgin, I thought. This was a that
felt like it had been fucked hundreds of times. It
molded itself to me lovingly. The folds of her
gripped me. Her unconscious hips seemed to move easily,
rocking back and forth on the plump cheeks of her ass.
I wondered how many times she had been fucked just like
this. Maybe thousands. Her body seemed to know just how
to respond. Even when unconscious! How often would a
girl have to be fucked before her body responded like
this? How many times just tonight, I wondered. How
often? With whom? Who was this little whore fucking?
Suddenly I was filled with rage and each bit of rage
transferred from my hips directly into hers. I fucked
Alyssa with long, fierce strokes, pounding her
into the tile. I wanted her awake now. I wanted her to
come into awareness so I could confront her with her
promiscuity. My dick knew. My body could tell she was a
whore.
Damn, I fucked her hard. I fucked her so hard I was
practically in pain myself. Still her slutty head just
seemed to wobble limply as I hammered her. I couldn't
get any reaction at all from her body. She was so used
to fucking, that even this hard pounding wasn't enough
for her.
But I knew what would get a reaction. Suddenly, I knew
just what to do to a nasty whore like Alyssa.
I pulled out and picked her limp body up and laid her
over the closed seat of the commode. She had been
hugging the before. Now she would again.
Throwing off my robe altogether, I scooped handfuls of
warm water and doused my sticky crotch and hard cock.
Then I pumped a whole handful of liquid soup into my
palm and slathered it onto my hard shaft. I pumped my
stiff rod, pumped it until it was hard and slick.
Coming up behind my kneeling daughter, I spread the
cheeks of her ass with firm hands and seated the head
of my penis into her asshole. With a deep, guttural
moan, I shoved my cock into this whore's ass, stabbing
her with it in one hard thrust.
Now the bitch groaned! Oh, yea! And she groaned again
when I pulled back and shoved it in deep again. But she
was such a whore that after four or five hard thrusts
she grew quiet once more. But by then it didn't matter.
Suddenly nothing mattered but fucking Alyssa's ass. My
hard cock thrust over and over, my balls bitch-slapped
her, punishing her for her infidelity. Faster and
faster I rammed her, the slick soap helping me to slide
deeper and deeper. It felt like the head of my cock
should be coming out her mouth. Her ass was so tight
... so tight ... so hot ... so tight ...
Each shove brought me closer. Each thrust took me
higher. Each fuck carried me deeper. And the final,
last jab took me to paradise!
I squirted strand after hot strand of thick, sticky
into Alyssa's ass. I gripped her hips and fired volley
after volley into her. Deeper and deeper I kept sliding
and cuming, grinding and cuming and cuming and cuming!
I knelt, panting. Gradually I pulled my tender penis
out of Alyssa. It plopped out, dribbling and soap
over both of us. I grabbed a nearby towel and mopped up
our mess, soaking up the funk and the as it flowed
out of her gapping anus. I cleaned us both up as much
as I could. She was still a mess. There was only so
much that could be done about that.
I did what I could to clean us both up, using the
washcloth and a little more soap to clear away the
damage. Then I left Alyssa lying naked, hugging the
commode.
It was Saturday morning and Laura had gone from the
house to catch the sales at some store or another. I
was drinking coffee and reading my paper when Alyssa
rolled out of bed. Already the night seemed like a
strange memory to me.
"You came home late last night," I said in a gentle,
fatherly tone.
"Too late," Alyssa muttered. "I'll never do that again,
Dad. I all over."
"I thought I heard you ... shall we say, 'Puking your
guts out,' ... last night after you got home. What was
that about?"
"I just had a terrible night, Daddy. I don't even
remember most of it after a couple of girlfriends and I
started drinking. I'm sorry, I know I'm too to do
that. I was just sad because I broke up with a
boyfriend last night."
"Come sit in my lap and tell me about it. That's good,
baby. Now what happened?"
Alyssa laid her head on my shoulder and looked at me
with sad, little eyes.
"He just wasn't nice to me like you are, Daddy. He
always wanted to do things I didn't feel comfortable
doing, if you know what I mean."
"It's okay, baby-girl. Just let Daddy hold you and
forget about all those mean out there. Daddy will
take care of you."
I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with my daughter's
scent.