Chapter One
“Stupido idiota!” my mother yelled. “Ti ucciderò a mani nude! Dammi i miei fottuti soldi!”
I sighed and slid back from the dining room table and began collecting my homework. As a personal rule, any time my mom started threatening to murder people, I left the room. I had lived by this rule for two years now, and she still hadn’t taken the hint, or she just didn’t care… probably the latter.
With my arms full of books and my laptop, I left my mother to her pacing in the kitchen, screaming into her cellphone as if it were a bullhorn and this were a town hall meeting, not our home.
It wasn’t her fault, I knew, well, kind of. Mom never signed up to be boss, and now it had all been tossed on her like… it didn’t matter. It had been tossed on all of us.
“Hey, sweetheart, where are you off to? You finish your homework already?” My father asked from the hallway before I could reach the stairs. He had been in the garage working on something.
“I’m not fifteen, Dad. I don’t have to have my homework done before lights-out. I’m just going to my room,” I huffed.
I reached the stairs but hesitated a step, waiting for Dad to say something… apologize, scold me, make a joke... anything. He didn’t. Instead, I was forced to stomp upstairs to my bedroom, feeling every inch of a piece of crap. I hated when I hurt my Daddy. Really, he had it the worst of all of us.
My father was a former NYPD detective who gave up a five-year career to marry my mother. He lost friends and lost contact with family members over that decision. No one wanted to be associated with the infamous Russo family. More than a few of my Italian relatives have starred in the news for their crimes. But my mother made sacrifices of her own. When they married, she agreed to leave the family business behind, and she did, for a time… but that time had passed. Now, my dad was stuck with an Italian mob boss as a wife, and a hormonal nineteen-year-old daughter with a temper and mouth. Poor guy.
It was another hour before my mom realized I was gone. We were going to watch our favorite cooking competition show tonight. Well, her favorite show. I just pretended to be into it because it was the one thing she and I could do together that felt like olden times. You know, like we were mother and daughter again.
“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you,” My mother said, leaning in my doorway.
“No, you haven’t,” I said from my bed. I lay on my belly as I mindlessly scrolled my phone.
“Sofia, what do you mean?” Mother straightened, crossing her arms.
“You haven’t been looking all over for me. Your voice carries throughout the entire house. I heard you threaten to kill that guy. Dad heard you threaten to kill that guy. Don’t lie!”
Rather than deny the accusation, my mother shook her head. “Your father doesn’t speak Italian. It’s fine.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but closed my lips and sighed instead.
“Besides,” she continued, “it’s just words. No blood will spill tonight.”
“What about tomorrow night?” I asked, knowing I was picking a fight. Don’t ask me why. I was in a mood.
“What did you say to me, young lady?” Mother warned in Italian, stepping forward with a raised finger. Anytime she spoke Italian to me, it was to scold, curse, or threaten me. “Do not catch an attitude with me. We’ve had this talk before, and I won’t...”
Mother’s phone rang with that annoying high-pitched tone that made me want to rip off my ears. In a flash, she forgot I existed, cursed in Italian, and walked away to answer the phone.
“Ughh!” I growled to no one.
I can’t even properly fight with my mom anymore.
Hours passed in a flick of my finger as I, like every other lost soul in America, scrolled through my life one reel at a time rather than experiencing life. I didn’t realize how much time had passed until I heard a knock on my door.
“Knock, knock,” my dad said, and I had to shake cobwebs from my head. “I know you don’t have a bedtime anymore, but I still wanted to come say hi before we went to bed. I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
I started to say something snotty and literally bit my tongue to stop myself. “Thanks, Dad,” I said instead, kicking my blanket off and sitting up on the edge of my bed. I wore a pair of men’s boxers (my pajamas) that rode up in my crotch and exposed my creamy pale thighs. I might’ve inherited my mother’s raven hair, but I got my father’s fair skin. His eyes darted down to my legs twice before he could control his gaze.
“How was your day? Classes getting any better?” he asked, teetering in the mouth of my bedroom.
“It’s fine. Still boring.”
“Sounds about right. And you thought school would get entertaining once you left high school for college?” he said with a playful smile. “What types of classes are you taking?”
“Mostly pre-reqs. General education, math, chemistry, biology, nothing career specific,” I said, and realized I let my legs hang a little wider open than usual, teasing my father with a view. When I realized what I was doing, I closed my thighs and made a face, equally annoyed with myself as I was with my dad, again for no logical reason.
“So you haven’t performed brain surgery and pulled a bullet out of a guy, yet?” he asked.
His smile warmed up to his cheeks, but I quickly cooled it with an icy ‘no.’
I looked down at my phone as the uncomfortable quiet grew between my dad and me. It was the kind of silence that built just before he broke bad news. The kind of silence where we both knew a secret we shouldn’t have but didn’t tell the other person. My dad opened his mouth to speak, but I feared what he would say, so I flopped back into my bed without looking at him again.
“Goodnight, Dad. Can you close my door?” I said.
My father stood there another minute. His presence was an elephant in the room until he finally sighed and whispered, “Goodnight, honey,” and closed my door.
My tears started to fall immediately as I curled into my comforter. They fell because I was so alone. They fell because of what an evil cunt my mother was. They fell because I couldn’t stop hurting my daddy. They fell because life was harsh and wasn’t fair. It was another hour of me hiding under the covers with teary eyes before I worked up the courage to stand.
If there was one thing in this world that I knew, it was that I did not want to grow up to be like my mother. I won’t become a mean, evil bitch. No matter what. I told myself as I shuffled through the dark halls of the house. Mom and Dad were asleep, but they never slept in the same bed. They hadn’t in over a year.
Opening the guest bedroom door quietly, I found Father lying on the bedcovers, still fully clothed in his black T-shirt and jeans, asleep. The muted TV played the news, washing the dark room in white and blue light. Latching the door behind me, I crawled into bed with him like I used to, scooting my body to his side like he was a teddy bear. His warm, familiar smell filled my lungs, and the heat he gave off from his chest sent a chill down my spine.
After a minute, my dad turned to his side to face me, his arm unconsciously wrapping around me in a familiar way. I smiled a little with nostalgia as I nestled my cheek into his hard chest, his arms and hands snaking behind my back. It had been a while, but I used to cuddle with Dad at night. It was back when Mom and Dad shared a bed. Father would squeeze me between him and Mom, and I’d fall asleep there until my mother would kick me out, saying I was too old to be sleeping in their bed.
But now Mom isn’t here to tell me what to do. I’m a nineteen-year-old woman now. I make my own decisions.
I lay there for a long time. My dad’s presence felt like medicine. With every deep, docile breath he took, my head raised and fell, and I could feel the pain and loneliness inside me being taken away and the love and strength of my daddy replacing it. I was cold since I still only wore boxers and a t-shirt, and we lay on the covers, so I tucked my legs beneath his and slid my arms inside his shirt. God, I love how hot his skin is to the touch.
It was then that things started to change. Father turned a bit more toward me so that his lips kissed the crown of my forehead, and his nose was buried in my raven hair. I smiled when he kissed my forehead. It was like a mega-dose of love. Love that I had been so desperate for. My dad’s hand rubbed up and down to the small of my back slowly while his other hand rubbed down my side, past my hips, and down over my bare thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze and pulled my leg over his. It was a new touch for my daddy, but one I welcomed. My legs were so cold, but his palm was so warm that goosebumps speckled my thighs and arms. It wasn’t until his hand on my thigh started rubbing to the underside and up towards my crotch that I realized I had been panting for a time already.
Chapter Two
I was frozen in shock and confused by my own body’s responses as the touch continued. Father’s slow, methodical breaths continued as his fingers brushed the warm, sensitive skin of my thigh below my crotch. I arched my back as a shiver went down my spine, and my daddy squeezed me tighter to him.
“Mmm…” A whimper of a moan escaped me, which surprised me and only seemed to encourage my father.
I gasped when I felt his gentle touch disappear beneath the leg opening of my boxers and into the uncharted territory of my crotch. So many thoughts struck me at once that I could hardly make sense of them. I knew all the reasons why this shouldn’t be happening. I knew my father was probably confused. I knew I should have been scared or grossed out, but… I also knew I didn’t want him to stop.
“Oh, honey…” I heard my father’s gruff voice groan.
He’s awake… I realized, but I wasn’t sure if he knew it was me or not.
Daddy’s finger brushed over my short bush, and between my pussy lips, and immediately I could feel myself begin to leak. Oh, my God, Sofia! Why are you so wet!
My hands clutched at my daddy’s side as his middle finger slid up and down my slit, making my thighs shake. I had never had anyone else touch me down there. For years, I lied to my parents and my handful of online friends about fake boyfriends that they could never meet, but, God, how I always dreamed of having a man touch me just the way Daddy was now.
His fingers slipped up my messy bush and circled over my clitoris, and I lost control of my body. My knees tried to invert, my back arched, my shoulders twitched, and my fingers gripped Daddy’s body like he was my boat in stormy waters.
“Mmmm, Gahmmm!” I moaned and buried my face into his chest to keep myself quiet. Father kissed the top of my head. “Oh, Godmmm,” I whimpered.
I wasn’t sure when the orgasm began because the feeling had been far too intense for far too long. Father’s soft rubbing over my clit was constant and relentless, bringing me to the edge and holding me there long enough that I thought I might crawl out of my skin. When I finally did cum, it took everything for me not to scream.
“Mmmmffucmmm!” I cried into my Daddy’s chest and felt his muscles flex as he squeezed my body to his.
His fingers continued their circles on my clitoris as my eyes rolled backward and my heart raced. I felt my wetness dripping down my thigh and even heard it as Daddy’s fingers continued to rub me. I wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. For Daddy to keep touching me, but if his hand didn’t pause, I knew I would scream from another orgasm. I told myself I couldn’t scream because we couldn’t wake mother in her bedroom, but truth be told, I knew I didn’t want to scream because I didn’t want to risk ending this moment…
Grabbing his hand between my legs, I felt him stop, and I could breathe again. I was panting into Daddy’s chest when I realized what had been pressing into me this whole time. I looked between him and me and saw Daddy’s jeans standing tall in a tent. His hard cock pressed against the middle with a dark wet spot at the tip. When I looked back up, I saw Daddy’s eyes staring down at me.
Chapter Three
My heart raced in a panic, and fear of consequences flooded me, but only for a moment. It quickly passed as the seconds ticked by. My father didn’t move his hands from my body, and his heartfelt expression didn’t change as his eyes gazed into mine. After a full minute of us just staring longingly at one another, Father’s palm cupped my cheek as he leaned over to kiss me, only he didn’t kiss me as a father. He kissed me as a lover.
His lips pressed to mine as my eyebrows went tall and my heart fluttered. When I felt his tongue slip between my lips, I melted into him like warm butter on a summer’s day. Without thinking, my leg slipped over his lap as I felt his hand slide down my hips, over the curve of my bubble butt cheek, and down the backside of my thigh. A million goosebumps exploded on my skin.
“Mmmm,” I whimpered, and it was quickly swallowed by Daddy.
My hand squeezed between us and rubbed over the large bulge poking me, and I heard Daddy groan as he stuck his tongue deeper into my mouth.
“Mmmahhmmm,” I squeaked. I was panting so hard I had to break away from this kiss, but Daddy only grew more insatiable. Rolling me onto my back, he was on top of me now. His broad shoulders shadowed me from the TV. It felt like having a weighted blanket wrapped around me.
The sound of Daddy’s belt jingling was what made me realize my hands were undoing his belt buckle. It was like my body was moving on autopilot. I had no idea how badly I wanted this until now.
Father finally broke from the kiss to remove his pants, and in a flurry of motion, I did the same with my boxer shorts, and Daddy aggressively helped me yank my top off. In what felt like an instant, I was suddenly naked and beneath the many muscles of my father, with my legs spread.
There was a bit of space between us for a moment. Enough for Daddy to stare down at me. I could see his eyes look over his nineteen-year-old girl from my mocha eyes to my breasts, naval, all the way down to my small bush over my bare pussy. I was a shy girl, especially with strangers, but Daddy was no stranger. The way he looked at me made me feel beautiful. I was on display, and I wanted him to see me, to see all of me. And then I felt it.
“Ohhm…” I gasped as I felt his cock drag down my slit.
He was a silhouette from my point of view, so I couldn’t see him, but I felt his head pressed against my pussy. In silence, my eyes went wide as did my mouth as I stared up at Daddy. He leaned down, and I felt his hot breath on my lips and his on my breasts.
“Ohhh, Daddy…” I whimpered as the pressure grew between my legs and I felt his tip start to enter me.
My eyes rolled backward as Daddy growled, “Fuck, baby…” just hearing his sounds of pleasure set off a level of lust in my brain that I didn’t know I had. I wanted him badly. I wanted all of him. In that moment, I would do anything to make him feel good. I was Daddy’s girl.
“Ahmm!” I screamed when Daddy pushed more of him inside me. Daddy’s lips kissing me muffled my moans so I wouldn’t wake Mother.
My arms and legs wrapped around his body as Daddy started to hump me. His cock pushed in and out of my hole slowly at first, but he was quickly picking up speed.
“Mmm mmm mmm mmm mmm! Mmmm!” I hummed a moan into Daddy’s mouth with every thrust. The mix of pleasure and pain from losing my virginity to my father was a feeling I didn’t want to end. Daddy’s kiss and touch soothed the edges of pain that I felt with each thrust, and soon it was only ecstasy that flooded my body. “Mmmahhhh, fuck, Daddy I’m gunna, gunna c-cum!” I cried as quietly as I could.
“Ughh, Jesus. Honey, ahmm!” He grunted in response. His lips hovered over mine.
All I could hear was his heavy breathing and the wet sounds of his cock squeezing into my tight hole.
“Oh, Gah...” I stammered as my back arched, and I felt like I was losing control of my body. Unable to breathe or move, I lay there hearing and feeling Daddy’s cock piston...
