It was an ordinary Wednesday night. I was walking past the bathroom, the door was ajar, and I happened to look in as I walked past. I saw it. It was just huge. I stopped and stared for a while not believing its size. In the thirty seconds it took me to look and study the cock in front of me, the switch inside me just flipped like the click of my fingers. I rushed onwards to my bedroom, feeling disgusted with myself. At this time of night it would have to be my fingers or dildo. It has to be said, I wish I didn’t have this condition at all. I wish I was normal.

I guess I should explain a little about my past. My dad and I live on a farm in the countryside. There’s not much of a town to speak of and it’s situated a good five miles away. I went to school about twenty miles away which was a bit of a journey every day. I never knew my mum as she died at childbirth, so it was dad and me all the way from the start.

I had a good upbringing, firm, sometimes too firm, but it was a good one. I guess not having a mother, and not seeing my dad with any female apart from myself, provided me with a slightly abnormal twist on relationships. For me at least, it was far from normal.

I never saw any sexiness between a man and a woman, never saw my dad joke and laugh and slap someone’s arse or tickle them or even throw them on the bed. I never saw any tenderness between a man and a woman. Sure my dad loved me and I loved him. But it’s not the same, is it.

So when I was a young teenager, blossoming into life and dealing with sexuality and sexual issues, it was always my friends I turned to. I started to masturbate at about sixteen, my best friend in school convinced me that it would be nice. It was more than nice and I loved it. Since then I have probably masturbated every day, not always to completion, but I have always taken some pleasure from my fingers at some point during the day.

Then at seventeen I discovered boys, complete with their fingers, tongues and cocks. The whole world had opened up and soon I was to be on a sexual high that I could never come down from. As I mentioned the school was about twenty miles away. I had to catch the bus there and wait for the bus to get home, sometimes for over an hour and a half after school had finished.

I was well endowed, even at that tender age. I had wonderful large breasts that got me noticed easily and a fantastic arse. My legs were not too short and I guess the boys saw my best parts first. Needless to say I was not short of attention after school had finished. I wouldn’t exactly call me a slut; more of a nymphomaniac. I wouldn’t sleep or fuck with anyone when they wanted; fucking was always a need that I had to satisfy in myself.

At first, the need was sporadic. I would be with a guy and then all of a sudden, my knickers would flood and I had this urge to satisfy myself. Something sexual had triggered my brain into needing pleasure. I used to wait until I got home and then it was off to my room for a quick female wank. But since I discovered boys, I didn’t need to pleasure myself anymore, and there were more than enough good looking studs to go round at the school I went to.

A few months past the age of seventeen, the trigger mechanism was being fired regularly. I would see a bloke and all of a sudden my attention would be drawn to his crotch. I would imagine what his cock would be like and then I would start to breath heavily, panting even. My knickers would be wet in an instant and I knew that I would need to be satisfied within the hour. It happened mostly at the wrong time of day, during lessons, or lunchtime.

Whenever it did happen, you could be sure I needed cock, and I generally got it. There would always be a guy ready to fuck me. I would often just catch their attention and give them a wink and a nod of my head. They used to smile and nod their heads in reply. Then when class was over, it was off to the bike-shed or toilets. They would follow me in, and in next to no time, a cock would be penetrating my wet and desperate pussy, satisfying me, and bringing me to the orgasm that I craved. Rarely did I receive the attention of gentle and prolonged lovemaking.

I think lovemaking happened once with a good friend of mine. It was certainly different and I experienced more than I bargained for. She had known all about my nymphomania since it started. One day, she saw me look at Jimmy, he was a hunk with a lovely arse and he knew how to fuck. I was biting my lip thinking of the last time we fucked each other. The switch flipped and I felt my eyes roll in their sockets. My face said it all as I looked towards Jenny and mouthed the words ‘fuck’. She giggled at me. We walked for a while, and I could see she was pensive and in deep thought.

“It doesn’t have to be a bloke you know,” she said, still biting her lip.

I looked at her and in an instant I knew I had to have her. Her words caused that sexual trigger in my head which switched into overdrive. I looked at her and immediately started panting and gasping for breath.

“Where can we go?” I asked.

We studied each other, “my house,” she said, “its only ten minutes away.”

We ran all the way there. When we got inside, she quickly hunted around to make sure no-one else was at home. Then we ran upstairs and within seconds all our clothes were lying on the floor in front of us. We were both naked and then she reached out and touched my breast. I grabbed her and pulled her towards me and we virtually sucked and slobbered over each other’s mouths, out tongues darting in between our lips and licking everything they could. My hand found her arse and squeezed her luscious globes. My heart was racing and my pussy was soaking wet. My whole body wanted her so badly that I couldn’t wait for her to touch me.  I grabbed her hand and thrust it down onto my pussy, and at last, she eagerly fondled and caressed my pussy. Then she broke off.

“Not so fast,” she said.

“But I‘m desperate,” I replied, “I want you so fucking much!” I exclaimed.

“On the bed,” she said and pointed to it, “and open your legs,” she continued.

I jumped on the bed and did as I was told. Then I saw her kneel down and the faintest kiss landed on my thigh, more followed. It was wonderful, but in my mind it was taking too long, I needed to cum, and cum fast. It was what I craved.

Jenny started to lick me and my pleasure built up rapidly. I was panting heavily. Then she tongued my slit and eventually I felt her tongue slide up my cunt. This felt exquisite and in seconds of her thrusting her tongue up there I was shouting into the room that I was coming and thrashing about on the bed underneath her. Jenny let my orgasm flow over me before she continued licking me and then she clamped down on my clitoris. This was something new, something the boys hadn’t yet discovered and it was excruciatingly wonderful. She had me cumming big time on that one.

We had been in the house only ten minutes and I reckon Jenny brought me to six, maybe seven orgasms with her tongue and finally she used her tongue and fingers together. That one completely blew my mind. I had to admit to being exhausted towards the end of our fuck frenzy. It was the most orgasms I had experienced in any one go, but I was determined to pleasure her too, in exactly the same way. She was as bad as me, but we stopped after she had had three orgasms.

It was a new experience and I realised then that I was bisexual. It wasn’t the idea that I fancied women or men. Fancied didn’t really come into it. It was just that anybody of any sexual nature could satisfy me and I could satisfy them. I certainly wasn’t attracted to one sex or the other. When the nympho switch hit me, as I called it, it could be anyone in my line of sight and that was a sexually liberating realisation for me.

Jenny and I had lots of fun in the coming months and she often used to tease me close to lunch time by pointing out some bloke and telling me what a lovely cock he had and what size it was. She did this to flip my switch and it worked one hundred percent. We certainly had fun.

The nympho trigger never flipped at home though, as there was never anyone around; except weekends when the farm hands would be there taking orders from my dad. Every farm hand fucked me at least once. The ugliest ones only once, but they only had their go when no one else was available. They would probably get another chance sooner or later.

By the time I was seventeen and a half, I had left school to help dad out on the farm. I missed the boys and their fucking, and it was usually only on weekends that I got to see Jenny and my other friends. Town was just too far away and working on the farm required full time attendance. However, any new farm hands soon got to know what I was like and it seemed once they found out, they would push my switch when they felt like a fuck.

The switch was just that, something in my head would get triggered and I would end up panting for sexual release. I had to have release. If nothing triggered me then I could go for ages. Well, not really as there was always something that triggered it.

Wednesday night was just that something. That was the night I walked past the bathroom and saw that lovely, gorgeous, huge and well hung cock. There was only one thing wrong. It belonged to my dad.

I rushed off to the bedroom, I needed release and knew that it would have to be the dildo. I rushed into the room slamming the door shut. My clothes were off in seconds and the dildo was retrieved from my top drawer. It was a large one that I had bought on the internet. Thank god for UPS that’s all I can say. Then without any further attention it was up me and thrusting into my cunt. Fuck, I needed it. The pleasure was outstanding and I was gasping and panting for release as I fucked the substitute cock into me at a phenomenal rate. All I could imagine was my dad. His face, his torso, his legs and thighs. All of these I had seen loads of times, but now, it was his cock as well. I imagined his cock as erect as a pole. It was not the dildo pushing me to my orgasm. It was my dad’s cock and it was fucking wonderful.

I came as hard as I had ever come that night. The dildo fucked me to my orgasm and when I came, the sheer force of my orgasm ripped it from my hand and caused it to shoot across the bed. My body was convulsing and my eyes were shut tight as my cunt pulsed and my brain registered the pleasure.

As I calmed down I started to look around the room. I realised that the orgasm I had experienced was not a normal one. It was much more intense. I put it down to the thoughts of my own dad. It must have been that.

It was then that I knew that I had to have his cock up me. I had to experience it and I knew that from that moment onwards, I would never look on my dad as just a dad. I knew full well that when I saw him next, the switch would flip. I either had to control the switch; ok, so there was no way that was going to happen; or get my dad to fuck me when it did.

It was then that I formulated plans to entice him. I knew he hadn’t had any women since my mum died; that would be over seventeen and a half years ago. Well, none that I knew of in any case. So I figured he must be missing out on that side of life. I knew that he was a man, and judging by the boys I knew, I figured he would be the same as them, and that he would be up for some skirt. So I figured that a little enticement was all that was needed and hey presto, his cock in my pussy moments later. Then it hit me. The biggest flaw in my plan. I was his daughter.

No matter what I wanted to do - I was his daughter.

‘Fuck it,’ I thought. ‘fuck…fuck…fuck!’

Still it had to be attempted, otherwise I was now going to go through the whole day and every night with this switch going off and fucking me up, with no-one to fall back on.

It was about a day after I saw my dad’s cock when he was drying himself that I decided the bathroom was a good place to start. I had planned it for the evening. I waited until we were about to go to bed and then I had a shower. I must have waited ages, periodically wetting myself to make it look like I had just got out of the shower. I had left the door open, and finally I could hear my dad coming up the stairs.

With the door open I positioned myself so that I was side on, tits straight out and my arse on view as well. I waited patiently to make it look like I was about to do normal things. Then I pulled a small towel from the rack and bent over placing it on my head. I then lifted my head up and wrapped my hair in the towel with my eyes closed, hopefully, the same time as my dad walked past the door. He would have to see me naked, I thought. He would have to gaze on my large naked breasts as he walked past.

I took a long time to arrange the towel without looking at the door. I heard my dad walk past. I wasn’t sure if he stopped to look or gaze at me, but I hoped he would have. Then I wrapped myself in another towel to leave the bathroom. My dad was right outside his bedroom door, he hadn’t gone far.

“You should close the door when you dry you know,” he said to me, “see you in the morning.” I just nodded and watched as he entered the bedroom.

He had seen me, it was a result. I left to go to my room and clenched my fist in a winning gesture. I waited at the door to my room and wondered if he was wanking; hopefully with the sight of my breasts and body playing on his mind. Probably not, I thought.

The following evening I piled the sensuality on over dinner. I wore a very short skirt, I always did in the house anyway. I also had a quite revealing top that was V-necked with buttons that were not quite done up as far as they should be.

We sat opposite each other at dinner. I engaged my dad in conversation about the farm and what we were going to do about the pig pen. All the time we were chatting, I was playing with my food and generally making my tits wobble as much as I could. He had to make eye contact, and I definitely caught him sneaking a glimpse at my tits as we chatted. When we had finished dinner, I offered to do the plates. Well, all I actually offered to do was to put them in the dishwasher.

I took them into the kitchen and saw that dad had followed me. It was perfect. I bent down at the waist with the dishes in my hand. He could not have missed my tight white knickers as they stretched over my now wet pussy, as I loaded the machine. I knew full well that my skirt was too short and my dad was standing right behind me. All I wanted him to do now was to come up behind me, grab me and fuck his cock into me.

Nothing happened. Well, that is not entirely true, what happened was that the switch in my mind went off big time at the thought of it happening. I started to breath heavily and it was all I could do to finish the loading of the machine and put it on.

As I raised myself up, I noticed that my dad had left the kitchen, which was just as well. My knickers were soaking wet and I knew that I had to dash upstairs...