polydaughter

[polydaughter]

Need a friend group who will grope me and tease me when we’re hanging out smoking weed and I get too high and horny

[polydaughter]

Picnic date where you lay pretty on a blanket in the middle of the woods except you’re drugged up out of your mind and I’m thrusting violently in and out of your holes🔪

[polydaughter]

exactlyyyy

[polydaughter]

I need an older man to hold me like a little girl pls pls <33

[polydaughter]

Your writings so hot!!!! Makes me wish for a daddy to treat my lil body like the girls you write about 🥺🥺

Requesting a daddy story - he works all the time but he and his daughter have a deep unresolved attraction so he hires her as personal assistant intern and starts to keep her for his own free use round the office, she can be sucking cock under his desk while he meets with clients and creampied over the desk while he conference calls meetings both of them totally naked fuck!!!

Thank you, angel xx Your perfect partner will show himself and then you'll get used like you deserve.

The office was quiet, save for the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional clatter of distant keyboards. He sat at his desk, the glow of his computer screen casting harsh shadows on his face. The paperwork was endless, the demands of his job relentless. But tonight, his focus was elsewhere. His daughter—no, his personal assistant—sat across from him, her eyes scanning a document with feigned diligence. He’d hired her just last week, and already, the tension between them was electric. It had been there for years, a simmering undercurrent of something neither of them dared to name. But now, in the confines of his office, it felt like they were teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

She glanced up, catching his gaze. Her lips parted slightly, and he saw the faintest flicker of something in her eyes—nervousness? Anticipation? He couldn’t tell.

“Is there anything else you need me to do?” she asked, her voice soft but steady. Innocent. Too innocent.

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving hers. “Actually, yes,” he said, his tone low and deliberate. “Close the door.”

She hesitated for a moment, then stood, smoothing her skirt as she walked to the door. He watched her every move—the sway of her hips, the way her blouse clung to her figure. When the door clicked shut, the room seemed smaller, the air thicker. She turned to face him, her expression unreadable.

“Sit,” he said, nodding toward the space under his desk. His voice was calm, almost casual, but the command in it was unmistakable.

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t argue. She knelt, her movements slow and deliberate, and crawled under the desk. The space was tight, her knees brushing against his legs as she settled into position. He leaned back, his hands resting on the armrests of his chair, as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

“Good. Now, make yourself useful,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

She hesitated for only a moment before her hands reached for his belt. He could feel her breath on his thighs as she worked, her fingers trembling slightly as she undid the buckle. When she pulled down his zipper and freed him from his pants, he let out a slow, steady breath. Her lips brushed against him, tentative at first, but as she took him into her mouth, the tension in the room spiked.

He couldn’t help but groan, his fingers tangling in her hair as she worked. Christ, she was good at this. The way her tongue swirled around him, the way she took him deeper, inch by inch—it was maddening. He leaned back in his chair, trying to maintain some semblance of composure, but it was impossible.

The knock on the door made them both freeze. “Sir? Your next meeting is waiting,” a voice called from the other side.

He cleared his throat, his voice steady despite the situation. “Give me five minutes.”

“Of course, sir.”

As soon as the footsteps retreated, his daughter—no, his assistant—resumed her task with renewed fervor. Her hands gripped his thighs as she took him deeper, her moans vibrating against him. He tightened his grip on her hair, guiding her movements, and it wasn’t long before he felt that familiar pressure building in his core.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Just like that.”

She didn’t stop, not even when he came, her mouth working him through every wave of pleasure. When he finally pulled away, she looked up at him, her lips swollen, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite place.

“Good girl,” he said, his tone soft but commanding.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and crawled out from under the desk, her knees slightly red from the hard floor. He watched as she smoothed her skirt and adjusted her blouse, her movements calm and collected, as if nothing had happened. But the flush in her cheeks betrayed her.

“Sit,” he said, nodding toward the chair across from his desk.

She obeyed, perched on the edge of the seat, her hands folded neatly in her lap. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You’re doing well, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and measured. “But we’re just getting started.”

Her breath hitched, but she didn’t say a word. He reached for the phone on his desk and hit a button. “Forward the call.”

He greeted the clients with a practiced smile, his posture relaxed, his demeanor professional. But as they started talking, he couldn’t resist glancing at his daughter, who sat silently across from him, her legs crossed, her expression neutral.

The meeting began, the conversation flowing seamlessly as they discussed business strategies and future projects. But all the while, he couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d looked under his desk, the way she’d taken him so completely. And as the clients droned on, he felt the urge to test her limits, to push her further.

He reached for the remote under his desk and pressed a button, activating the blinds. The glass walls of his office turned opaque, blocking out the view from the outside. The clients didn’t seem to notice, but his daughter did. Her eyes flicked to the blinds, then back to him, and he saw the faintest flicker of panic in her expression.

“Stand up,” he mouthed silently, his expression calm but commanding.

She hesitated for only a moment before obeying, her movements slow and deliberate. He gestured toward the desk, and she understood immediately. She walked around the desk, her steps measured, and stood in front of him, her back to the clients.

“Remove your clothes,” he mouthed, his eyes locked on hers.

Her hands trembled as she reached for the hem of her blouse, but she didn’t argue. She pulled it over her head, revealing the lace bra underneath. The clients continued their discussion, completely oblivious to what was happening. She unzipped her skirt next, letting it fall to the floor, and stepped out of her heels. When she stood before him in nothing but her lingerie, he nodded, his expression unreadable.

“Good,” he mouthed. “Now turn around.”

She did, her body on full display for him. He reached out, his fingers brushing against her skin, and she shivered under his touch. He traced a line down her spine, his touch feather-light, and she let out a soft, involuntary gasp.

The clients were still talking, their voices low and serious, as he stood from his chair, his movements slow and deliberate. He pressed a button on the keyboard, muting the call, and leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear.

“There’s my good girl,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Now, let’s see just how much you can take.”

He turned her toward the desk, his hands firm but gentle, and she understood immediately. She bent over, her hands gripping the edge of the desk, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He positioned himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips, and she tensed, her body trembling with anticipation.

“Ready?” he murmured, his voice low and dark.

She nodded, her breath hitching as he entered her, the sensation overwhelming. He moved slowly at first, his thrusts deliberate, but it wasn’t long before he lost control, his pace quickening. She moaned softly, her body moving in time with his, and he gripped her hips tighter, pulling her closer. The clients were still talking, their voices a distant hum in the background, but neither of them cared.

He could feel her tightening around him, her moans growing louder, and he knew she was close. He quickened his pace, his movements becoming more frantic, and it wasn’t long before she came, her body shuddering with pleasure. He followed soon after, his release intense and all-consuming.

They stood there for a moment, catching their breath, before he pulled away and straightened his clothes. She did the same, her movements slow and deliberate, as if nothing had happened. When he unmuted the call and resumed, the clients didn’t seem to notice anything amiss. But as he glanced at his daughter he saw the faintest smile playing on her lips.

“Now,” he said, his voice calm and collected, “where were we?”

[polydaughter]

Can I be the gross pervert that your parents warned you about?

[polydaughter]

Meet stunning women who are actually interested in YOU, click now to start chatting!

[polydaughter]

Back by popular demand: Casual Nudity Dad <333 This is part 2 of this story. (can be read as a standalone)

“You’re not even pretending to look away anymore,” he teased, his voice low and warm as he leaned against the doorway, completely nude. His skin was still damp from the shower, water droplets clinging to the coarse hair on his chest, trailing down his abdomen. You hated how your eyes lingered, how your breath hitched when his smirk deepened. God, why can’t I stop looking? “It’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t mind. In fact, I kind of like it.”

“Dad, stop,” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you said it, your gaze flicked back to him, tracing the curve of his shoulders, the way his muscles shifted as he crossed his arms over his chest. This is wrong. This is so wrong. But the heat pooling between your legs didn’t care. It had been building for weeks, ever since he started walking around the house like this—bare, unapologetic, daring you to say something. Why haven’t I said something?

“Stop what?” he asked, taking a step closer. The towel he’d been holding fell to the floor, but he didn’t even glance at it. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and knowing. “I’m not doing anything. You’re the one staring.” He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “But like I said… I don’t mind.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. This had been escalating for weeks now. It started small—him leaving the bathroom door open after his showers, casually wandering into the living room in nothing but a towel. Then the towels disappeared altogether. He’d walk through the house completely naked, humming to himself as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And every time, he’d catch you looking. Every time, he’d tease you about it.

“You’re my sweetheart,” he’d say, his voice dripping with a kind of affection that made your stomach flip. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

But it wasn’t just the nudity. It was the way he’d brush against you when you passed in the hallway, the way his hand lingered on your lower back when he reached for something behind you. It was the way he’d sit too close on the couch, his thigh pressing against yours, his arm draped casually over the back of the seat, his fingers brushing your shoulder. It was the way he’d lean in when he kissed your forehead, his lips lingering just a little too long, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m your dad,” he’d remind you, as if that made it okay. As if that made it innocent. But it didn’t feel innocent. Not when his eyes lingered on you the way they did. Not when he’d make comments about how much you’d grown, how beautiful you were becoming, his voice low and heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

And now, standing there completely bare, he was closer than he’d ever been. You could smell the soap on his skin, see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. Your hands clenched at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as you fought the urge to reach out and touch him. God, I shouldn’t even be thinking about this.

“Relax,” he murmured, taking another step forward. His hand came up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his. “It’s just us. No one else here. No one else matters.”

You wanted to pull away. You should pull away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. His touch was warm, his gaze even warmer, and you were drowning in it. “Dad…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Shh,” he said, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

This is wrong. The thought flickered through your mind, but it was drowned out by the heat of his body, the way his fingers trailed down your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, and you knew he felt it too. It was in the way he looked at you, the way his breath hitched when your hand came up, your fingers brushing against his chest.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough now, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? I know you have. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

You wanted to deny it. You should deny it. But you couldn’t. Not with his hand sliding down your arm, not with his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “Dad, I…”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, his voice soft but firm. “I want this too. I’ve wanted it for a long time.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. His hand came up again, his fingers tangling in your hair as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. It was so soft, so tentative, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight through you.

“Dad…” you whispered again, your voice barely audible. But this time, it wasn’t a protest. It was a plea.

He kissed you again, harder this time, his lips moving against yours with a kind of hunger that made your knees weak. His hand slid down your back, pressing you closer, until there was no space between you at all. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “Let me take care of you.”

You should have said no. You should have pushed him away, run out of the room, out of the house. But you didn’t. Instead, you nodded, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a possessiveness that left you breathless.

He broke the kiss long enough to lift your shirt over your head, his hands roaming over your bare skin with a kind of reverence that made your head spin. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, his hands working to undo the clasp of your bra. “My sweet girl.”

The bra fell away, and you felt his breath catch as he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire. “God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You moaned softly, your head falling back as he leaned in, his mouth closing over one nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on your breasts, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you closer.

“Dad…” you whimpered, your body arching into his. “Please…”

“Shh,” he murmured, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes burning with need. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

He kissed you again, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pajama pants. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, tugging them down slowly, the fabric sliding against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. You stepped out of them, the cool air brushing against your bare flesh as you stood completely exposed before him. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and anticipation coursing through you. His eyes never left yours, dark and smoldering, holding you captive as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

His hands roamed over your body, the touch electric, sending waves of heat through you. He guided you to the bed, his movements deliberate, his presence commanding. You lay back against the sheets, your legs parting instinctively as he settled between them. His hard length pressed against you, the sensation making you gasp, your body arching toward him.

He didn’t rush. His eyes locked on yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. “Look at you,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “So beautiful. All for me.”

You could feel his hands on your thighs, gripping them as he positioned himself. The first push of his length into you was slow, deliberate, stretching you in a way that made you moan. His eyes never left yours, watching your every reaction as he began to thrust, each movement deep and purposeful.

“Dad…” you whimpered, your hands clutching at the sheets, your body trembling beneath him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed, his voice rough with need. “Let go. Let me take care of you.”

His rhythm became more insistent, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building inside you, coiling tight, until it finally snapped. You cried out, your body arching as pleasure washed over you, intense and all-consuming.

He groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he followed you over the edge, his release spilling deep inside you. For a moment, he stayed there, his body pressed against yours, his breathing heavy and ragged.

Then, slowly, he pulled back, his eyes still on you, filled with something you couldn’t quite place. He kissed you softly, his lips moving to your neck, your chest, and then lower. You gasped as his mouth found your sensitive core, his tongue lapping at you with a skill that left you breathless.

“Oh God…” you moaned, your hands tangling in the sheets again as he worked you toward another peak, his tongue relentless.

He didn’t stop until you cried out again, your body shuddering beneath him. Only then did he pull back, his eyes meeting yours as he murmured, “I told you I’d take care of you, sweetheart.” And with that, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was possessive.

[polydaughter]

The sound of water running in the shower was loud enough to cover your footsteps as you tiptoed toward the bathroom. You had just woken up, groggy and disoriented, and the idea of a hot shower to start your day seemed perfect. But as you reached for the doorknob, it swung open before you could touch it.

There he was. Your dad. Standing completely naked, water droplets clinging to his skin, his broad shoulders glistening under the bathroom light. You froze, your eyes darting anywhere but at him, your cheeks burning.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he said, his voice casual, almost too casual, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. “Didn’t expect you to be up this early. You joining me?”

Your mouth went dry. “Dad! Why are you—why aren’t you dressed?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his damp hair. “Why should I be? It’s natural, isn’t it? You should try it sometime. Feels freeing.” He leaned against the doorframe, completely unbothered by his nudity. “Come on, don’t be shy. Not like we haven’t seen it all before.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. “That’s not—that’s not the point,” you stammered, unable to find the right words. You wanted to back away, but your feet felt glued to the floor.

He smirked, his eyes lingering on you for a moment too long. “Suit yourself. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He turned back toward the shower, his muscular back on full display. “Don’t forget, water’s expensive. Sharing is caring.”

You slammed the door shut, your face still hot. You leaned against the wall, trying to calm your racing thoughts. This wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this, but it never got any easier.

Later that evening, you were curled up on the couch, trying to focus on the movie playing on the TV. It was one of those romantic dramas, the kind that always seemed to have at least one steamy scene. You tensed as the characters on screen started kissing, their hands roaming, the music swelling. You could feel your dad’s eyes on you, watching for your reaction.

“No need to be embarrassed,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “It’s just a movie. Unless… you’re thinking about something else?” He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You’re blushing. It’s cute.”

“Dad, stop,” you muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around you. But your voice lacked conviction, and he knew it. He chuckled, sitting back and stretching his arm across the back of the couch.

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s just us. No one here to judge.” His hand brushed against your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine. You didn’t dare look at him, but you could feel his gaze burning into the side of your face.

When the movie ended, you stood up, desperate to put some distance between you. But as you turned to leave, he stood too, pulling you into a hug. His arms were warm and strong, his chest pressing against you. And then you felt it—his hand resting on your ass, his fingers squeezing ever so slightly.

“Night, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against yours in what was supposed to be a quick, innocent kiss. But it lingered, his breath mingling with yours, his hand still firmly in place. You pulled away, your face flaming, and hurried to your room.

Your mattress was uncomfortable—it always had been. He’d insisted it was a good deal when he bought it, but you were starting to wonder if that was just an excuse. You tossed and turned for hours, unable to find a comfortable position. Finally, you gave up, grabbing your pillow and heading to his room.

He was already in bed, the sheets pulled up to his waist, his chest bare. He smiled when he saw you, patting the space beside him. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice soft.

“The mattress is awful,” you muttered, climbing into bed.

“Mmm, I know. But you’re always welcome here.” He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. His skin was warm, his heartbeat steady against your back. “Better?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if it was better or worse. His presence was comforting, but it was also... something else. Something you didn’t want to think about.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of the shower running again. You groaned, burying your face in the pillow. He hadn’t closed the bathroom door all the way, and you could hear him humming softly. You tried to ignore it, but then his voice called out, “You joining me today?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “No,” you called back, your voice muffled by the pillow.

“Your loss,” he said, his tone teasing. “But you know where to find me.”

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering how things had gotten to this point. He was your dad, but sometimes it felt like he was something else entirely. Something you weren’t ready to face.

The shower turned off, and a moment later, he appeared in the doorway, still dripping wet, a towel slung low around his hips. “You missed out,” he said, grinning. “Next time, don’t be so shy.”

You looked away, your face heating up again. “Dad, can you at least put some clothes on?”

He laughed, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside you. “Why? It’s just us. You’re my sweetheart. Nothing to hide.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You wanted to say something, to push him away, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just sat there, your heart racing, as he leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“Love you,” he murmured, his voice soft.

“Love you too,” you whispered, though the words felt heavy on your tongue.

He stood up, heading toward the closet, but not before giving you one last lingering look. “You’ll come around eventually,” he said, his tone light but his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Tip me

[polydaughter]

us when

[polydaughter]

Want dad to sneak into my room after fucking mommy , her cum still dripping on his cock. He loves mommy but she just can’t make him cum anymore! Not since he first fucked his baby daughter >~<

Want dad to pull my covers off and slowly move my little panties to the side! He wouldn’t even bother waking me up, he’d just shove himself into my tight cunny, using mommy’s juices as lube >0<

I’d wake up already crying because I didn’t even have any time to want daddy :( if I start moving too much, dad would just hold me down and use me for what he made me for, being his little cum dump!

I’d eventually stop fighting and my cries would turn into sniffles as I moan because dad just feels too good! His big cock would stretch me out, leaving my tiny hole gaping

And when daddy cums in my fertile cunt, he’d put my panties back in place, tuck me back in, leave a little kiss on my forehead and then leave without saying a single word 🥰

[polydaughter]

Teaching you your lefts and rights by making you call out what side I hit you on

[polydaughter]

[polydaughter]

I want a man who get‘s harder when I tell him to stop or how much he’s hurting me

[polydaughter]

Back by popular demand: Casual Nudity Dad <333 This is part 2 of this story. (can be read as a standalone)

“You’re not even pretending to look away anymore,” he teased, his voice low and warm as he leaned against the doorway, completely nude. His skin was still damp from the shower, water droplets clinging to the coarse hair on his chest, trailing down his abdomen. You hated how your eyes lingered, how your breath hitched when his smirk deepened. God, why can’t I stop looking? “It’s okay, sweetheart. I don’t mind. In fact, I kind of like it.”

“Dad, stop,” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper. But even as you said it, your gaze flicked back to him, tracing the curve of his shoulders, the way his muscles shifted as he crossed his arms over his chest. This is wrong. This is so wrong. But the heat pooling between your legs didn’t care. It had been building for weeks, ever since he started walking around the house like this—bare, unapologetic, daring you to say something. Why haven’t I said something?

“Stop what?” he asked, taking a step closer. The towel he’d been holding fell to the floor, but he didn’t even glance at it. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and knowing. “I’m not doing anything. You’re the one staring.” He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “But like I said… I don’t mind.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. This had been escalating for weeks now. It started small—him leaving the bathroom door open after his showers, casually wandering into the living room in nothing but a towel. Then the towels disappeared altogether. He’d walk through the house completely naked, humming to himself as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And every time, he’d catch you looking. Every time, he’d tease you about it.

“You’re my sweetheart,” he’d say, his voice dripping with a kind of affection that made your stomach flip. “Nothing to be ashamed of.”

But it wasn’t just the nudity. It was the way he’d brush against you when you passed in the hallway, the way his hand lingered on your lower back when he reached for something behind you. It was the way he’d sit too close on the couch, his thigh pressing against yours, his arm draped casually over the back of the seat, his fingers brushing your shoulder. It was the way he’d lean in when he kissed your forehead, his lips lingering just a little too long, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m your dad,” he’d remind you, as if that made it okay. As if that made it innocent. But it didn’t feel innocent. Not when his eyes lingered on you the way they did. Not when he’d make comments about how much you’d grown, how beautiful you were becoming, his voice low and heavy with something you couldn’t quite name.

And now, standing there completely bare, he was closer than he’d ever been. You could smell the soap on his skin, see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath. Your hands clenched at your sides, your nails digging into your palms as you fought the urge to reach out and touch him. God, I shouldn’t even be thinking about this.

“Relax,” he murmured, taking another step forward. His hand came up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his. “It’s just us. No one else here. No one else matters.”

You wanted to pull away. You should pull away. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. His touch was warm, his gaze even warmer, and you were drowning in it. “Dad…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Shh,” he said, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Don’t think. Just feel.”

This is wrong. The thought flickered through your mind, but it was drowned out by the heat of his body, the way his fingers trailed down your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, and you knew he felt it too. It was in the way he looked at you, the way his breath hitched when your hand came up, your fingers brushing against his chest.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough now, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them. “Don’t fight it, sweetheart. You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you? I know you have. I’ve seen the way you look at me.”

You wanted to deny it. You should deny it. But you couldn’t. Not with his hand sliding down your arm, not with his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “Dad, I…”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, his voice soft but firm. “I want this too. I’ve wanted it for a long time.”

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. His hand came up again, his fingers tangling in your hair as he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. It was so soft, so tentative, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight through you.

“Dad…” you whispered again, your voice barely audible. But this time, it wasn’t a protest. It was a plea.

He kissed you again, harder this time, his lips moving against yours with a kind of hunger that made your knees weak. His hand slid down your back, pressing you closer, until there was no space between you at all. You could feel the hardness of his body against yours, the way his heart was racing just as fast as yours.

“Let me show you how much I love you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite name. “Let me take care of you.”

You should have said no. You should have pushed him away, run out of the room, out of the house. But you didn’t. Instead, you nodded, your hands coming up to grip his shoulders as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a possessiveness that left you breathless.

He broke the kiss long enough to lift your shirt over your head, his hands roaming over your bare skin with a kind of reverence that made your head spin. “So beautiful,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, his hands working to undo the clasp of your bra. “My sweet girl.”

The bra fell away, and you felt his breath catch as he looked at you, his eyes dark with desire. “God, you’re perfect,” he breathed, his hands coming up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

You moaned softly, your head falling back as he leaned in, his mouth closing over one nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him to you as he lavished attention on your breasts, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, pulling you closer.

“Dad…” you whimpered, your body arching into his. “Please…”

“Shh,” he murmured, lifting his head to look at you, his eyes burning with need. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”

He kissed you again, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pajama pants. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your pants, tugging them down slowly, the fabric sliding against your skin in a way that made your breath hitch. You stepped out of them, the cool air brushing against your bare flesh as you stood completely exposed before him. Your body trembled, a mix of nerves and anticipation coursing through you. His eyes never left yours, dark and smoldering, holding you captive as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

His hands roamed over your body, the touch electric, sending waves of heat through you. He guided you to the bed, his movements deliberate, his presence commanding. You lay back against the sheets, your legs parting instinctively as he settled between them. His hard length pressed against you, the sensation making you gasp, your body arching toward him.

He didn’t rush. His eyes locked on yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. “Look at you,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. “So beautiful. All for me.”

You could feel his hands on your thighs, gripping them as he positioned himself. The first push of his length into you was slow, deliberate, stretching you in a way that made you moan. His eyes never left yours, watching your every reaction as he began to thrust, each movement deep and purposeful.

“Dad…” you whimpered, your hands clutching at the sheets, your body trembling beneath him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathed, his voice rough with need. “Let go. Let me take care of you.”

His rhythm became more insistent, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the tension building inside you, coiling tight, until it finally snapped. You cried out, your body arching as pleasure washed over you, intense and all-consuming.

He groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he followed you over the edge, his release spilling deep inside you. For a moment, he stayed there, his body pressed against yours, his breathing heavy and ragged.

Then, slowly, he pulled back, his eyes still on you, filled with something you couldn’t quite place. He kissed you softly, his lips moving to your neck, your chest, and then lower. You gasped as his mouth found your sensitive core, his tongue lapping at you with a skill that left you breathless.

“Oh God…” you moaned, your hands tangling in the sheets again as he worked you toward another peak, his tongue relentless.

He didn’t stop until you cried out again, your body shuddering beneath him. Only then did he pull back, his eyes meeting yours as he murmured, “I told you I’d take care of you, sweetheart.” And with that, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was as tender as it was possessive.

[polydaughter]

Mug her, drug her, plug her. Then when you're done, hug her.

[polydaughter]

100% hardcore game, only for adults, check it now.