I had made up my mind that I was going to have him. One way or another, I was going to have him. I had always loved him but as I got older my feelings had been changing from daughter/father love into more like lust. I was almost 18. I had wanted him more and more over the last year or so, ever since he had stopped letting me crawl onto his lap, and the rejection had hurt so much. I thought it was because he no longer loved me, it was quite some time before I realized it was because he found me sexy and that made him uncomfortable.
I had tried everything to get him to show interest in me, but he resisted it all. I sat around the house wearing as little as I could get away with, tried leaving my bedroom door open so he could see in while I was dressing or undressing. I dropped hints. Once, when he was asking why I never seemed to have any boyfriends, (I had actually had several boyfriends but he did not know that) I told him straight, “I am waiting until I find someone as much like you as I can, because you are exactly what I want as my lover”, but he even ignored that open invite, telling me “You are still young yet, you will find somebody right for you when you are ready”. I could have screamed.
Eventually I decided if I wanted him, and I did want him so badly, then I would have to resort to drastic measures, give him no choice at all. I waited until one Sunday morning when Mum was going out early to take her mother somewhere. Dad was still in bed asleep. Once the front door had shut I listened for the car to start, and she was gone. Just me and Dad left in the house. If ever I was going to act it had to be now. I stripped off my nightclothes, and went into the bathroom. Toilet, teeth, then a quick shower. As I was soaping myself I could feel my heart pounding with nervous excitement. My nipples were already hard with sexual anticipation and the tingling between my legs,…..it was all I could do to resist touching myself there. Even drying myself fueled the temptation to give myself a quick climax but somehow I was able to deny myself that pleasure.
Quietly I sneaked along the hall, still naked from the shower, slowly and carefully I opened the door to his bedroom and crept inside. The curtains were still closed but the room was light enough to see easily. He was sleeping on his side, facing away from me.
As we lay there side by side, his arms around me, he explained how hard he had tried to resist wanting me, how he had an erection all the time I was around him, and how wonderful it was to finally feel himself in me. He had woken thinking he was having one of his regular wet dreams about screwing me and how it had taken time to realize that this time was not a dream but the reality. Then, as the effects of my fingers touching and caressing him began to make themselves known, he parted my legs, rolled onto me, and started screwing me slowly, deeply and very, fully, moving my eager and willing body into all the positions he had ever dreamed of having me in, and bringing me to a screaming sobbing climax more times than I could keep track of, before he finally drained himself completely into me.
