Felation

Day felation after my sixteenth birthday. Daddy and I were sitting in the twilight on the sundeck of the lake house. Nobody else around. Crickets chirping, Daddy leafing through the Kansas City Star in the fading light, me just sitting there watching the sun go down and the moon come up.

All of a sudden, Daddy laid his paper aside. He looked at me for a long moment. Then he said, "You're a pretty girl, Melanie."

The compliment pleased me. It was the first time my father had ever told me straight out that I was pretty. Not that I was unaware of having been blessed with passably good looks. All my girlfriends told me they envied my naturally curly blonde hair. And the boys were beginning to take notice of my developing figure.

My delight at my father's compliment faded as he stared at me intently. "What's the matter, Daddy?" I felation asked.

"Melanie, I think it's time we had a little talk," he began. "I know you've been learning the basic facts of life at school, but uh...ah..." He broke off in embarrassment, muttering something about how he wished my mother was there to handle the situation. At last, he tried felation again. "Let me put it this way," he said. "With the way you're maturing, it won't be long before you're going to have to cope with, uh, sexual advances from boys."

Little did Daddy know. As he launched into a lecture on the virtues of chastity as opposed to promiscuity, I thought naughtily of the sexual advances I was already getting from boys. There were the furtive pinches in hallway crowds at school that had been unknown before my figure started filling out. There were also verbal advances from fresh boys like Jimmy Fenwick, who'd told me he'd like to felation kiss me between my legs. While I wasn't about to let Jimmy do any such thing, his imagery did hold a certain fascination for me.

Although I paid only halfway attention to Daddy's anti-sex lecture, that evening left a vivid impression on me nevertheless. The impression was caused mostly by the look on my father's face as he stared at me while telling me I was pretty. I thought a lot about that look afterward. I decided that although I must be mistaken, it sure had resembled a look of sexual desire.

About two weeks after the session on the sundeck, I was lying in bed masturbating before retiring for the night. A fantasy man hovered over me, his buttocks churning between my thighs as he thrust his thick cock in and out, in and out of my pubescent vagina. My masturbatory lover had no face, no name, was more felation shadow than substance, but he had helped me get myself off scores of times in the years since I'd begun playing with myself.

Suddenly, I heard a key turn in felation the downstairs door. The door squeaked open. That would be Daddy coming home from the restaurant. I stepped up the tempo of my fingering of my clitoris in hopes of having my orgasm before Daddy looked in for his usual goodnight kiss. However, I hadn't quite come when he stuck his head in the door.

"You awake, Melaine?" Daddy asked softly.

"Yes," I murmured as I teetered on the brink of orgasm. I stopped diddling myself under the sheets as he came over to plant a kiss on my forehead.

When he bent over me, I noticed that my father's silhouette bore a marked resemblance to that of my fantasy lover.

I don't know what came over me then....


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