8

Quickly brushing my teeth and using the toilet, I decided I didn't feel like taking a shower. My body was still warm from my workout and I didn't feel like going to bed with wet hair. Flipping the lightswitch off, I slunk back into the hall and started padding my way toward the basement once more. But just as I took a step past my dad's room, his door made a creak. My heart leapt up into my throat and I almost cried out as I stared at the door and watched it swing inward. But it only moved a couple inches before stopping. Holding my breath, I stood still, waiting to make sure nobody was moving inside there. The last thing I wanted right then was a confrontation with my father. I don't even know why.

After a grueling five seconds, nobody came out of my father's room. Still holding my breath, I lifted my foot to take a step and then stopped. I heard something from inside his room. Something that made me frown. Unable to resist, I leaned closer to his slightly ajar door, listening.

There was no doubt in my mind as to what I was hearing. My dad was masturbating. Completely captivated, my foot landed and then I stood frozen in place. I listened. There was a soft slapping sound that kept repeating over and over. And the longer I stood there, the more it seemed that my ears were becoming "accustomed" to the quiet house, much like your eyes become acclimated to the dark.

My dad was breathing loudly. And his breaths were short. The soft slapping sound grew louder, and his breathing got heavier. My ears felt like they were on fire and I knew my face was completely red. But still, I couldn't pull myself away. I was ensnared by the sightless scene. His bed made a sound and I pictured him squirming in it. The whisk-whisk-whisk of his stroking got even faster.

Suddenly my father made a hissing noise, followed by a sharp inhale of breath. Then it was quiet except for the soft slapping noise. A few more seconds went by and then the slapping stopped abruptly. My dad let out a loud breath and then another. And then I thought I heard him moan, but it was so quiet, it might have been something else.

Holy shit. My dad just had an orgasm. And I had heard the whole thing. My heart was hammering in my chest, beating so hard I was sure he could hear me in the hall. Tiptoeing as quietly as I could, I made my way down the hall and then down the basement stairs. When I finally climbed into bed, I was completely out of breath.

[Irresistible.]

I was trembling as I lay in my bed. No, not trembling. Shaking. Like my body was freezing and I couldn't get warm, except I didn't feel cold at all. A warm buzz was coursing through me from head to toe and it was so strong, it felt almost unpleasant. I pulled the covers up to my chin, still shivering. Thoughts tumbled through my head. I put together old memories with new, suddenly finding myself imagining what my daddy looked like while he masturbated. I pictured him completely naked as he stroked his penis. I imagined what his penis looked like fully erect. The images were flying through my head, barraging me.

My heart was beating so rapidly, I felt like it was hard to breathe. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't force myself to calm. I couldn't slow down my heartbeat. My blood pulsed throughout my body, throbbing between my legs. An itch had started there, just beneath the surface of my vagina. It begged for me to tickle it.

Forcing myself to resist my beckoning crotch, I slid my hands up under my shirt instead. When my fingers danced across both nipples at the same time, I gasped. They were already hard, and I could feel the puffy skin of my areolas jutting out from the tips of my small breasts. Pleasure arced down my stomach, zeroing in on my vagina. I squeezed my legs together, desperately trying to stave off the mounting tingles. My fingers were still dancing across my nipples so I put effort into clamping my muscles in my hands, grabbing hold of my boobs and holding still.

My body trembled as images of my father masturbating continued to assault my mind. It was frustrating and suddenly I felt a surge of anger rise up within me. I was angry with my father for taking residence in my head. He was like a siren, calling me back and torturing me with his cruel rejection, again and again.

My cheeks were damp with tears. I realized suddenly that I was crying, which only made me more exasperated. Why should I be crying for him? He was a beast. I wanted to go far far away. Maybe I could find a friend to stay with for the summer. A short list of people tumbled through my brain, but I knew it was futile. There was no place to go. I felt helpless. Trapped. Lured in by my father's beauty, then denied any affection whatsoever.

"Uhhhnnn," I heard myself moan and my eyes opened in surprise. Glancing down my own body, I felt a ripple of shock when I saw that one of my arms had slid down and my hand was buried between my legs. I was masturbating.

Before I could force myself to stop, my fantasy exploded with life. I was no longer just visualizing my dad masturbating. I could hear him moaning. In my twisted universe, he was breathing my name while he stroked himself. I felt my finger diddling its way between my swollen lips. My god I was wet. The rest of my resistance fled. I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't hold back.

Gasping, I felt two of my fingers penetrate my vagina. There was so much juice oozing from my opening that I didn't even have to play with my clit first. My other hand, still squeezing my left breast, started moving again. I pinched my nipples, one at a time, dragging my fingers across my chest. Between my legs, my hand started to churn. In and out I plunged my fingers, masturbating.

In my head, I gave in to the fantasy completely. I pictured my father lying on his bead, penis in hand, stroking himself. I imagined him moaning as he pointed his erection at me. I could hear the gentle slapping of his skin as his hand glided up and down. Instinctively, I matched the speed of his stroking with my submerging fingers. My daddy opened his mouth, moaning as his orgasm drew near.