citrusbarking - Tumblr blog

citrusbarking · 9 days ago

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Rock You

Dad rocks you to sleep.

Tags - dad!joel, incest, smut, one shot, dad jokes, banter, dad!joel eats slim jim’s (sorry. they’re a certified #dadclassic), road head, blow job, cum swallowing, fingering, piv sex, creampie, cockwarming, somno-ish, Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged in New York lol. Sweet and loving nostalgia. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND ALL CHARACTERS ARE ADULTS. 5.5k words

A/N - He’s back, daddy’s girls 🩷 thank you for your patience. And thank you to all who contributed in the #dadsnacks discussion! That was very valuable.

Joel pulls his truck up next to the gas pump, then puts the vehicle into park and steps out. With your head against the window, you watch him through the windshield that’s all spattered in gnats and flies, Dad rounding the front of his truck. He looks so handsome, brows knitted together as he untwists the gas cap and puts the pump inside, graying hair blowing in the breeze. He pulls out his wallet then, reads a little sign, and then hangs his head back in irritation. “God dammit.”

Joel taps twice on your window, voice muffled as he speaks, “Gotta pay inside,” he says. “Let’s go.”

You roll your eyes. “Dad, let me just stay,” you whine.

But Joel doesn’t budge. “No can do, kiddo. I don’t like ya out here alone,” he says. “Come with, come pick out some junk food with me, huh?”

“I don’t want…whatever.” You can’t fight the smile that grows on your face. Joel knows all too well how to bribe you, his sweet fucking girl. You unclick your seatbelt and Joel opens the truck door, and he takes your hand and helps you down.

He’ll never stop doing that, you know. He knows you’re big now, all grown up. Your legs are longer and you’re more graceful than the little punk kid you once were, but Joel will always, always help you down. You bit it one goddamn time and ended up with a big gash on your forehead and all these scrapes on your knees, and you screamed bloody murder when Joel dumped peroxide on your skin to clean the wounds. It broke his fucking heart, hurting you like that, even if it was to help you in the long run. At least he got a giggle out of you when he let you hurt him - “hurt” him back by punching him in his strong bicep. Ouch, kiddo. Uh huh. Hurts real bad. Yep, we’re even now.

Joel holds the glass gas station door open for you, then points to a stack of baskets. “You know what to do.”

Joel follows you through the gas station, loving that beautiful grin on your face as you grab his snacks first - his preferred junk food never changes. Snickers, sunflower seeds, a honey bun, a couple of Slim Jim’s and some Reese’s peanut butter cups and a big bottle of Arizona Arnold Palmer to wash it all down. You did good, kiddo.

Dad’s turn. Joel picks out Sour Patch watermelons, your very favorite. He grabs you a big bag of white cheddar popcorn, too, and some of those mini powdered donuts. You always had a thing for those donuts. Joel’s standing in front of the refrigerated section, thinking hard about what to get you to drink. You approach him and browse with him. “Could get ya Bug Juice,” he teases, nudging your arm. “‘Member those?”

You laugh out of your nose, “Ew,” you giggle, scrunching your face.

“Ya liked ‘em when you were little,” Joel replies, opening the fridge and grabbing you a cherry Coke. You smile, Dad knows you so well.

You and Joel bring your items up to the register, where the attendant scans everything. Joel reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, then narrows his eyes at an end cap that catches his attention. “Grab me one’a them Paydays, would ya?”

You raise your eyebrow and put your hands on your hips and Jesus, you truly are your father’s daughter. Same fucking mannerisms and facial expressions right there.

“Dad, no. You broke your tooth on one of those the last time you ate one.”

“It was one time,” Joel argues quietly, snatching a Payday himself, and handing it as well as a couple of bills to the attendant, who’s laughing at this argument. “Put the change on pump four, please,” he tells her.

“Dad–”

“Can it,” Joel says. “Tooth was already cracked to begin with. Thank ya, ma’am,” he says to the attendant, swiping the white plastic bags full of snacks off the counter. Then he nods his head in the direction of the door.

“It was not,” you mumble, more for the attendant’s ears than for Joel’s. You wish her a nice rest of her day.

Outside, Joel opens his truck door for you and helps you into it, then fills his truck with gas. When he’s done, he puts the pump away and joins you in the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life as he turns the key. You’re back on the endless highway in minutes, snacking on junk food together.

“And ya know the great thing,” Joel starts, pausing to take a swig of his drink, “All this garbage s’only eight thousand calories.”

“It’s not, actually.”

“Yeah, how’s that?”

You swallow the Sour Patch watermelons you were chewing. “Because it doesn’t count when you eat it in the truck.”

Joel laughs at that, eyes crinkling with his smile. “You are wise beyond your years, girl.” He’s got his window cracked, and the wind is blowing his curls back. The sun beginning to set makes his dark eyes shine a vibrant amber in its glow.

Another hour passes. You notice a Volkswagen Beetle and punch Joel in his bicep, snickering. Before he can argue, he notices the car, too. “Didn’t say slug bug, darlin’. Doesn’t count.”

“Does too.”

Joel takes his right hand off of the steering wheel and makes his pointer finger and thumb into a circle, and holds it above the floor of the truck. “Psst. What’s that, kid? That a bug on the floor?” You gasp when you look down and roll your eyes when you see Joel’s circle, and he punches you in the bicep in return, laughing triumphantly. He punches lightly, of course. Dad never rough houses too hard with you, baby girl. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, then shakes out his arm. “Goddamn, girl. Your punch is gettin’ harder.”

More time passes by, and you’re keeping track of the number of flies that smack the windshield. You and Joel played twenty questions - he was thinking about coffee, and you were thinking about a cat. He tried to play again, but you shut him down. “I’m bored,” you whined instead, and Joel told you that you could go play in traffic.

You’re flipping through radio channels now, looking for something to listen to. Remember when Uncle Tommy would sit with you in the truck with some AM station on? Joel hated that. He thinks that’s partially where you got your attitude from, or at least where you learned to argue. Uncle Tommy would beg to differ, though. He thinks you and his brother are the same fucking person. Joel can make all the excuses he wants, and it’ll never change the fact that everything he is - the good, bad, and the ugly - you are too.

Joel reaches over your head for the CD case attached to the mirror above your seat and pulls out Nirvana’s MTV Unplugged in New York. He puts it into the disc drive, humming along to ‘About a Girl’. You don’t remember it, but Joel used to play this album for you to get you to sleep, sometimes. He’d sing ‘Where Did You Sleep Last Night’ to you, too. Not very well, but neither of you gave a shit, because it was your special thing. Just for you and him, you and Dad.

“Are we almost home?”

“Do you see our house, baby?”

“No.”

Joel gives you a silent look in response, and you sigh dramatically. “I’m bored to fucking death,” you complain.

Joel clicks his tongue. “To death, huh? S’a shame. Well, was nice knowin’ ya.”

“Daaaad.”

“Oh, I know, I know, I know.” Joel leans over and pushes open the glove box, and rummages around for a pen and some paper. He finds a napkin instead. “Draw me somethin’ pretty,” he tells you.

You take the napkin, and you can tell it’s many years old by the words ‘a note for your lunch’ that are written on them in faded ink. You chuckle and put that napkin back, and find a different, blank one instead.

You can’t believe it’s still there after all these years. When you were in elementary school, you asked your dad to leave you a note in your lunch box because you liked that the other kids’ parents would write them sweet and loving notes. Notes like, you’re gonna do great on that test! I love you!

And what did your dear old man, Joel, write? A note for your lunch.

Joel would give anything to see the look on your face when you opened it, but in truth, he could perfectly picture it in his imagination when he was at work that day. Your cute little pout, inherited directly from him. When he picked you up from school later, you angrily handed it back to him.

“What? S’what ya asked for, right? A note for your lunch?”

“I hate you.”

“Uh huh,” he smirked.

You put your pen to your napkin before you’ve even got the faintest idea of what you want to draw, you just hope you’ll end up somewhere eventually. A squiggly circle here, a wobbly line there, all accidental mistakes. You groan in frustration, then put the napkin and pen back in the glove box. “I don’t wanna draw. It’s too bumpy.”

Joel sighs deeply and puts his head against his left hand, his elbow resting on the driver’s side door. “You don’t wanna draw,” he starts, “Don’t wanna play games, either. Just wanna complain, huh?”

“Yep,” you answer, crossing your arms and resting your face against the glass window.

“Then f’ya wanna complain, I’ll give ya somethin’ to complain about.”

You look over and see Joel switching his grip on the wheel. He uses his right hand to start to unbuckle his belt, his eyes darting from his crotch to the road ahead. “Gimme a hand here, kiddo. Shouldn’t be takin’ my eyes off the road.” Another one of his do as I say, not as I do moments.

“Now?”

“Yes, now. C’mon now, don’t make me ask twice.”

You huff and puff and sigh as you unbuckle yourself to take care of Joel’s belt and jeans. You poor girl, all bored and antsy. Your generation’s gonna have a tough time figuring that one out, Joel thinks. Keeping yourself entertained without a screen in front of your face. Shoot.

He’s getting hard as your soft, gentle hands undo the leather, patting over his bulge. Joel lets out a sigh when he feels you drag the zipper down, fingers tugging on fabric to free his cock. Joel sucks in his soft belly and pulls himself out for you, giving his length a couple of strokes with his fist before letting you take over.

It’s difficult to keep his eyes on the road with you bent over his crotch the way you are, with one of your hands wrapped around the base of his cock and the other on his thigh. You begin with a couple of kisses pressed against his soft tip, moving your way down his veiny shaft. You are dad’s kind, sweet girl, through and fucking through. He keeps the fact that this is quite an excruciating tease to himself, because he likes your generous kisses, finds it cute that you do this.

You circle his head with your tongue just twice, then take Joel into your mouth completely, gagging yourself in the process. You feel embarrassed as Joel pats your back, softly warning you, “Easy - woah - easy, baby girl. Not all once, honey, that’s how ya choke.” He chuckles after he says it.

It took Joel forever to stop cutting your grapes in half.

He rests the back of his head against his chair as you try again, this time working your way down his shaft a little slower. You’re making a mess of both yourself and Joel, just like he tells you to. “With your hand, baby, just like I showed ya,” Joel reminds you. You move your hand in time with your bobbing head, and the quiet, pleasured groans Joel makes go straight to your core. “Doin’ so good, honey. Attagirl.”

He grunts in surprise when you pull away suddenly, whining his name. Daaad. Joel pulls his eyes from the road momentarily to watch you pull one of his wiry, graying pubic hairs off of your tongue. He laughs, “Oh shit, I know. My bad, kiddo, I’ll trim first thing tomorrow.”

“You better,” you murmur, wiping your hand on his jeans. You bend back over and continue pleasuring him, and look at how quickly you find your rhythm, baby girl. It’s that steady, quiet, mindless repetition that calms you down, regulates your system. Joel tries to stress the importance of slowing down to you, of getting your mind off of stuff and things. It’s those quiet, repetitive activities that help you. Folding laundry, sorting buttons. And then, your oral fixation is satiated when you bob your head up and down on Dad’s cock, too, isn’t it? And it helps that much further, pacifies you in a sort of way. Funny how that works, huh?

Joel gives your back a couple of taps to signal his impending release. You pump your fist and massage the underside of his cock with your tongue, working him to his peak. Joel moans your name with all the love in the world as he cums all over your tongue, and you taste each rope of the very spend you’re made from, swallowing it all with a hum turned squeak when Joel tugs on your hair a little too hard. “Sorry, kiddo,” he apologizes quietly. Dad always did have a tendency of being rough with your hair when he would put it into pigtails or braids, but you were always a little tender headed, too, weren’t you? Christ, he misses doing those pigtails. The smell of green apple scented Suave’s detangling spray, those colorful hair ties he was always buying. Joel always wondered where they’d disappear to.

You take a sip of your Coke, then lay your head on Joel’s lap with the back of your head resting against his soft tummy, all tuckered out, just like he wanted you to be. Dad pushes some hair out of your face and traces the curve of your ear, rubbing the cartilage between his fingertips.

Your father has such gentle, loving hands as he runs one of them down your body, tugging up on your shirt. He rubs the valley between your hip and your waist, where it dips just so, then runs his hand over the curve of your ass. He pats you in time with the beat of Nirvana playing over his tinny speakers, then lets his fingers travel lower. He traces that little diamond shape that frames your pussy so perfectly, and tugs your soft shorts and panties to the side, dipping just his middle finger into you.

Joel can feel you clenching around his knuckle as he pumps it in and out of you, and he can hear that soft murmur of pleasure you let slip. “Yeah, that feels nice, huh, baby?”

“S’nice,” you mumble in agreement, and Joel’s adding a second finger. Dad’s got you memorized by hand, and knows how to touch you to make you come undone for him like you’re meant to. A little wiggling, curling of his fingers and you’re gasping, dripping into your cotton panties. Joel pulls his fingers out and slides them up the warm, wet seam of your pussy, and he finds your clit swollen and throbbing. Poor kid, he thinks. That can’t feel good.

He rubs your clit in steady, expertly made circles to get you off. He’s not looking to make you cum especially hard or anything like that - just a soft, sweet orgasm to soothe you off to sleep for the rest of the ride.

There are days when Dad does just that to you though, where he overstimulates you and fucks you so hard you sob. Sometimes he’ll shove his fingers down your throat to keep you from making too much noise, and he’ll feel a little guilty when you gag on them. Sorry, baby. Dad got ahead of himself.

And then, there are days where you ride him until you’re out of breath and gasping for air, where Joel has to slow you down and force you to take a break. Time out and have a sip of water, kiddo. There’s no rush. Dad’s not going anywhere.

Dad’s taught you the nuances of sex, and you’re lucky for that. To learn from someone who loves you and who’s so patient and experienced, similarly to when he taught you to drive. It doesn’t have to be all rough and grabbing hands, grabbing fistfuls of hair and flesh like you see in some TV and movies. Dad’s introduced you to the simple pleasure created between a body pressing against another body, the special warmth that comes from skin resting on skin, bones resting on bones, muscle twitching against muscle. Heavy breaths syncing as his arms wrap around your shoulders and waist, holding you close. Soft, gentle, never ending orgasms simply experienced for the sake of being experienced.

Joel doesn’t change his pace at all when your clit starts to throb and pulse rapidly. “That’s it, honey. Cum for Daddy.”

He works you through your orgasm, right until you’re whimpering, “S-stop, Dad, please. M’done, all done.”

“All done?” Joel asks, and you nod. He pulls his fingers from you and sucks them clean, then puts his hand on your back again. A little bit of rubbing, maybe some scratching, and you’re out like a light. Joel looks down at your sleeping face and notices a bit of his spend still on your lips. He licks his thumb, brings it to your mouth, then wipes it away.

And wouldn’t you know it, your song is playing. Joel sings along to the lyrics, repeatedly rubbing your cheekbone with his fingers, looking down at you every so often, though he knows he shouldn’t.

Sometimes, Joel will still instinctively look into his rearview mirror and angle it down, looking for your little legs kicking in your booster seat. Those days are long gone now, but the alternative isn’t so bad, is it? His sweet little girl asleep in his lap, drooling onto his jeans. The sun’s gone down, and there’s another two hours before he’ll be home with you. Joel holds his forearm protectively around your body.

When those two hours pass, Joel pulls into his driveway, then shuts off the truck. He puts his keys into the pocket of his soft, worn shirt, and he’s gentle as ever when he lifts your head from his lap, doing this silly and awkward, careful maneuver as he opens the truck door and slides out of the vehicle. He leans over your body and grabs you in his strong arms, then carries you tightly against his chest. Joel closes the truck door shut by kicking it with his foot, then looks down at you.

Your sleeping face, knocked the fuck out. Lips plump and pouting, drooling - there’s a nice stain of spit on his jeans, too. Not that Joel minds any. Lord knows he’s cleaned up worse from you. “Ohh,” he sighs quietly. “What’m I gonna do with ya, my girl?”

Drives in Joel’s truck always put you to sleep. Joel remembers when you were a baby, and fucking inconsolable. Colicky, you poor thing. All out of sorts. Nothing worked to soothe you - not a bottle, not a story, not being rocked or bounced or anything else. And Joel didn’t have the heart to just let you cry it out, either. He just couldn’t stomach listening to you cry like that, all alone and scared because your dad wasn’t there, and you needed him.

You kept Joel awake for days at a time, screaming your little head off. Joel was at his wits end with you, and he needed a break before he screamed his head off, too. So he buckled you into your little carseat and began driving to Uncle Tommy’s. Tommy owed him one, anyway. And you always had a thing for Tommy, too, which helped. You were sweet on him from day fucking one. He just had this special way with you, where he could soothe you and charm you out of your moods in a way Joel couldn’t always do. It made Joel jealous, if he’s being honest with himself. Still kind of does.

On that particular drive, Joel had realized at a point that he could actually hear Nirvana playing on the radio, and not your agonized screams and cries. In however many minutes it was you’d gone out like a light, and it’s like everything clicked in that moment. Whenever you got too fussy to relax, he’d just drive with you, his sweet baby girl. Sometimes listening to music, sometimes not. Sometimes Uncle Tommy would come with and he and Joel would talk in whispers that lulled you off to sleep, paired with the dull roar of the truck’s engine.

Joel grunts when he carries you inside, muscles burning as he brings you up the stairs. “When’d you get so fuckin’ big, huh?” he murmurs, laying you down on his bed. He tells himself you probably would’ve ended up in his bed, anyway. Joel unties your shoes one at a time and slips them off, quietly placing them on the floor. And it wasn’t so long ago that your shoes had velcro straps and lit up when you ran, was it? Good fucking god.

Joel takes off your clothes, one article at a time. Socks and pants first, then panties. He gingerly slips your arms back through your sleeves and the collar of your shirt up and over your face, careful not to disturb your slumber. But of course…

“Dad,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep.

“Shit, sweetheart. M’sorry,” Joel whispers, stroking the side of your head. “Didn’t mean to wake ya. Go back to sleep, darlin’. S’okay. You’re home.”

You shake your head, wiping your eyes as you sit up. “Can’t sleep,” you argue tiredly.

Joel scoffs a laugh. “Oh bullshit, yes ya can. You’ve been knocked out for a while now,” he whispers, pulling off his own shirt. “Jus’ close your eyes, honey. Be right there to snuggle ya.”

“Mm-mm. Rock me, Daddy.”

Oh, Joel knows what that means. When he looks at you, he’s met with pleading, tired, and big eyes, asking him oh-so-kindly to rock you. You’re a master manipulator with those eyes of yours, you know. It took Joel a long time to learn not to cave to your puppy eyes, and it took Uncle Tommy even longer. If you asked Joel, he’d tell you that you can still get Uncle Tommy with that look.

“Rock you, huh?” Joel’s cock jumps in his denim. “Reckon s’a little late for that, kiddo. ‘Specially for a weeknight.”

“No, please,” you beg, reaching for your dad’s warm hand and putting it between your thighs. “I need you, Daddy.”

“Y’sure like to pull your ‘daddy’ card when you’re wantin’ somethin’ from me, huh?”

Joel loves the way you can’t hide your grin from his accusation. He sighs, then bites the corner of his lip to keep himself from mirroring the same smile. It’s true what they say, about kids making you soft. “Yeah, alright. I’ll rock ya,” he concedes, already pushing down his jeans and boxers. He plops in the seat of his La-Z-Boy rocker recliner that’s been in the corner of his room since you were born, lazily pumping his own cock while patting his thigh. “C’mere.”

You groan as you stand up, pausing to yawn while stretching. “Ohh, you are not long for this world, daughter of mine,” Joel murmurs, eyeing you as you move closer to him. You straddle his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your face into his neck, inhaling the warm, familiar scent of his skin. “Scoot, kiddo. C’mon, up,” Joel grunts, urging you to sit up before spitting into his palm. “Lazy ass.” You whine in disapproval but do it anyway, sighing when you feel the blunt head of Joel’s cock prodding at your folds. He passes his cock through your seam a couple of times, then lines up with your entrance.

“Careful, baby. Easy does it,” Joel grunts, easing you down his length, sighing at the feeling of being enveloped in your warm cunt, warm for him and him alone. Joel thrusts up a little to bottom out, soothing your cries with the kindest of kisses pressed against your lips. “There she is. Down here, darlin’. Right here.”

Joel wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, close so that you’re chest to chest, skin to skin. He inhales deeply the scent of the top of your head and rubs your back, propelling the rocking chair with his feet on the ground. He notices goosebumps on your skin.

Rocking used to mean one thing, a long time ago. Joel soothing you to sleep, bonding with you. Your little self pressed against him, with a blanket over your shoulders and tucked under your feet as he read picture books to you. And it still kind of does mean that, in a way. It’s different now, of course, and it was always going to change. But it’s just as special. Maybe even more so, now.

Joel groans as you clench around his length. “Bedtime story,” you murmur against his skin. You’re holding onto him so tightly, warming your hands on his soft body.

Dad chuckles. “What, am I supposed to read your textbook to ya or somethin’? We donated all your picture books to Goodwill forever ago.”

“Just wanna hear a story, Daddy.”

“Mhm.” You moan as Joel leans forward, reaching behind his head to grab a blanket draped over the recliner. He spreads it out, then wraps it around your shoulders. “Let’s see…”

Joel thinks for a moment, quietly rocking you on his cock. With one hand under your ass, he uses his arm’s strength to assist in moving you up and down on his cock, just gentle, easy thrusts. His cockhead rubs perfectly against your g-spot, like you were made perfectly for him. And really, weren’t you? Isn’t this exactly what he brought you into this world for?

One of these things, at least.

“Alright. I know one,” Joel says.

“Tell me,” you breathe.

“I lost ya once,” Joel admits quietly.

You hum in surprise, pulling away from Joel for a moment to look at him. “Really?”

Dad clutches you back against his chest, putting you right where he wants you. “Sure did,” he answers, pausing for a moment. “Felt so fuckin’ guilty, kid. I thought I failed ya.”

Your heart pangs at that. “Daaad,” you whisper sadly.

“You couldn’t’ve been older’n four,” Joel begins. “I was tryin’ to get some work done with Uncle Tommy here in the house and ya wouldn’t leave us alone.”

When you giggle at that, Joel groans softly. You clench around his cock when you laugh.

“Yeah, laugh it up,” he continues in a soft voice. “Every other minute you wanted juice or a snack or you’d be sweet talkin’ Uncle Tommy into playin’ dolls with you,” Joel says. “You were drivin’ me fuckin nuts, girl.” Joel squeezes you tighter, then turns his head and kisses your forehead. “I sent ya outside in the backyard, which Uncle Tommy and I had just fenced in, mind ya. Because of you, if you’ll recall.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never told ya?”

“Mm-mm.”

“I sent that fence up because of you, trouble. I’d be grillin’ us hot dogs or somethin’ for dinner and I’d have ya right by my side, drawin’ me pictures with chalk on the patio. Remember this?”

“Mhm,” you murmur.

“Do you remember haulin’ ass across the yard the minute I turned my back?”

You giggle, “No.”

“Mhm, well - so I’m grillin’ for us, right, and I’d turn my back and pshoo, you’d be gone at the neighbor’s house charmin’ that sweet old lady outta the cookies she made. Miss Rosie was her name, right?”

“Yeah, I remember her,” you say fondly. She passed away a few years ago. You and Joel had gone to her funeral.

Dad laughs at the memory. He remembers stomping across her lawn, “Get your little ass back here,” he’d scolded, and you looked like a deer in the headlights with chocolate all over your face. “Did you spoil your dinner?”

“No, Daddy.”

Joel huffed in frustration as he bent down to pick you up, then held you on his hip. “Well,” he’d said, tickling your chin with his finger, “What do you say to Miss Rosie?”

“Thank you.”

Joel rolled his eyes and apologized to her, but she didn’t mind your little impromptu visit. Joel maneuvered you so that you were sitting on his shoulders, your little fingers tugging at his hair, and he marched you right back home.

“Anyway, you were buggin’ me an’ Uncle Tommy so I sent ya outside to make friends with a squirrel or somethin. And sure enough, you stayed busy out there,” Joel says.

He continues, “An’ then I got nervous,” he explains. “‘Cause I couldn’t see ya, and it was quiet. And quiet usually meant you were troublemakin’, my sweet girl.” He continues, “So I went lookin’ for ya out there and you were fuckin’ gone, kiddo. Gone,” Joel enunciates. “Didn’t know if you’d snuck out through the fence somehow or if some fuckin’ pervert lured ya out with candy and snatched ya off the street. We called the cops an’ everything. Screaming your name, lookin’ for ya in the neighbors’ yards.” Joel sighs deeply before continuing. You squeeze him tight and kiss his neck, and he squeezes you back, almost like he’s trying to remind himself that you’re right here, safe in his arms, and everything’s okay. “I was a wreck talkin’ to the cops. Cryin’ and everything ‘cause I lost my baby.”

Joel inhales deeply. “And then,” he says, “A cop came up to me and asked me what shoes you were wearin’, and I told him that you were wearing your pink Chucks. He told me to c’mere and I found ya in the fuckin’ egress window. Little shoes pokin’ out.”

“What?”

“The egress window, like the basement window,” Joel clarifies. “You’d lifted up the grate and sat down there, made friends with some toads. An’ then you fell asleep, you little shit.” Joel smiles at your giggle, the same sweet laugh you’ve always had. “Oh, you scared the bejesus outta me, baby girl. Think I started goin’ gray that fuckin’ day,” he whispers, then goes quiet as the story hangs in the air. “Anyway. That’s how I lost ya.”

“Father of the year, huh?” you tease quietly.

Joel rolls his eyes. “Uh huh.” He wants to tell you how sorry he is still, all these years later. But he thinks you know. “I love ya,” is all he says when he focuses on fucking you in the rocking chair he used to soothe you to sleep in, working himself and you closer and closer to the edge. You wriggle your hand between your bodies and touch your clit, and the way Joel fucks himself into you provides enough friction that you’ll be coming soon. He can hear it in the way you moan, or rather, the way you’ve stopped moaning. When you go quiet, he knows you’re close. He is too.

It’s only one, two, three long and deep thrusts before you’re coming, whimpering, “Dad, Dad, Dad,” as Joel fucks you through it, finding his own orgasm. Fuck, coming with his baby girl. Is there anything in this world more precious and special than that?

You stay on Joel’s lap, dripping his spend. Just quietly coming down, held securely in Dad’s strong arms. You’re exactly where you’re meant to be, and drifting off to sleep.

“Alright. Up, baby, up.” Joel pats your ass to rouse you. “I know you’re not sleepin’.”

But only silence from you.

“I can’t stay like this with ya, honey, my back’ll be all fucked up. C’mon, kiddo. Up.”

You don’t budge. Joel sighs deeply, accepting his defeat. He’ll stay like this with you, his softening cock buried in your pussy, maybe just for a moment longer. Rocking you gently, whispering sweet nothings to you. He’s a fucking sucker for you, baby girl.

More dad!joel here and a playlist here!

Hi ♡ if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or sending an ask, but reblogs are especially appreciated. I get people are hesitant to publicly engage with a fic as icky as this one but it goes a long way in breaking the stigma, because after all, it is just fiction. Strength in numbers and all of that :) It’s been a rough go for me lately. I love you, thank you for reading.

Aaaand cat tax. Say hi to Gizmo :)

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citrusbarking · 10 days ago

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More Than Air

Pairing: Dad!Joel x female reader

Summary: The power is cut in your apartment in the Boston QZ, your dad, Joel wants to keep you warm and teach you a few things.

Warnings: 18+, Incest, DDDNE(dead dove do not eat), Legal age gap, Dubcon, daddy kink(?), Virgin!reader, Joel is REALLY icky, innocence kink, male masturbation, fingering, bordering on size kink, emotions, lots of feelings, pet names, reader is not described besides having boobs, hair and a vagina, no use of y/n.

notes: OOF. Okay I'm diving head first into this. This is an icky, gross, incest fic and I'm not sorry. I'm going to get hate for it but eh, I write whats fun and idc if it disturbs people...when it comes down to it, you have to take responsibility for what you consume. if this isn't for you, move along and thats fine. Don't come whining to me about how you hate it. anyway! I hope that if this is your jam, you enjoy! Also: obviously, I do not condone this in reality. Fiction is fiction and doesn't hurt anyone.

Also I'm going to thank my friend @strang3lov3 for being my dad!joel buddy and giving me the guts to keep writing him.

Word Count: 5k

The first time Dad actually crossed a line with you was a year into living in the Boston QZ. You had never known you could feel such a strange mix of emotions; anger, disgust, excitement and a deep, abiding admiration and love for the man who had been your maker and savior. Joel had been finding himself deeper and deeper into the smuggling world here in Boston but you only knew this because of what you had picked up from others, and what you overheard. Joel closed you out of that part of his life, which was his whole life, and only told you what was absolutely necessary.

Before the night where everything changed, shifting into a different and more confusing plane of existence, there had been little moments that sent shivers cascading through your body. His eyes lingering on your body when you scamper to your room from your shared bathroom after a chilly shower. Joel had noticed the way your shirts fit you, taking note that you really weren’t his little girl anymore,

“Aint ya got a a shirt that covers you more?” He asked while you sat at the table and ate your plain, gloopy oatmeal.

“It’s the end of the world, Dad. My choices are pretty limited,” You responded. You watched his eyes slip down, noticing where your shirt gaped and showed off your cleavage.

“Just…never realized what a woman you are now,” He commented, sipping his coffee as he unabashedly examined your chest. You tugged your shirt up, and pulled a face at the comment,

“Don’t say that, Dad, ’s’weird.” You said, but there was a small part of you, a part you didn’t like to look at too closely that liked that he had noticed.

There had even been a time where he came to wake you up one morning and waited around while you started to get changed. You had urged him to leave,

“Dad, I’m changing!”

“I’ve seen it all before, kiddo.” He griped, leaning against the doorframe and watching you peel off the sweatshirt you slept in and turn away from him so all he could see was your back. You shifted uncomfortably, you had always been a little innocent, too trusting, gullible almost but this just felt wrong. But even in the wrongness of it you found a spark light up inside you that made you arch your back a little when you hooked your bra behind your back, knowing his eyes were on you.

“You don’t need to make sure I get dressed, I’m not a little kid.” You mumbled as he turned back to him, pulling your shirt on over your bra.

“Cut me some slack,” he said, “You’re always goin’ to be my little girl,” He smiled as you crossed your arms over your chest and stalked towards the door. Joel grabbed your waist as you passed him and squeezed, making you giggle.

But before the night that FEDRA cut the power to your block of apartments it had never really crossed a line. He had never touched you or done anything of the sort. Maybe if it hadn’t been a cold winter night whatever tension that had been building in your father wouldn’t have snapped. Maybe if FEDRA hadn’t been needing to conserve energy you would still be the completely innocent girl you once were. Maybe it just came down to this being cordyceps fault, like everything else. Daddy would have just been a word you had called Joel growing up, sex would have been something you learned from a college boy, fumbling in a dorm, not from the broken man you called father.

No use dwelling in what ifs. It was the what ifs that would kill you if you let them in this infected and decaying world.

There hadn’t been a complete blackout since summer and it was an especially cold winter night so it didn’t take long for the whole apartment to chill when the power went out. But it wasn’t until around 2 AM when the cold in your room became unbearable. You were shivering under the weight of two quilts when your door opened,

“Dad?” You asked, turning your head to look at the broad shape of your father in the darkened doorway.

“It’s too cold to sleep alone, babygirl, scoot over.” He said. You immediately felt uncomfortable at the idea of sharing a bed with your father. You never would have thought twice about it in the before times but things had felt so different, so shadowy, and strange now. You moved over to accept Joel into the space next to you.

“Why did they do this now?” You whined, as Joel lifted the quilts, causing cold air to rush in. He slid his big body into the space next to you.

“I dunno, darlin’ to torture us but I’m sure they’d give some bullshit explanation like conserving energy,” He griped, settling down close to you. You had a double bed which was plenty big for you but now with Joel it felt tiny and his body felt inescapable. You swallowed back your anxiety and reminded yourself that this was your dad, the man who had raised you and protected you, saved your life on many occasions. There was no real reason to be scared of his touch.

You started to relax and even as you did, you wondered if you were so tense because of him or because of you. You were lying on your back, looking up at the ceiling, cursing your own feelings as Joel jostled in the bed more,

“Make some more room, hon, you ain’t that big you don’t need to hog.” He said. You grumbled and rolled over onto your side, facing away from him.

“It’s fuckin’ freezin,” he added, tugging the quilts up higher. You felt him turn so he was curled towards you, scooting closer, you could feel his front pressed into your back. He was warm, delightfully so, you couldn’t help but tuck yourself close to him. “Atta girl,” he breathed, reaching up and brushing your hair back away from your face so he could see you a little better. You hummed out a soft noise as you finally felt comfortable in the bed, his warmth mixing with yours to make it decently pleasant under the covers. “You jus’ go to sleep while your old man tries to finally warm up,” Joel half laughed. You smiled and let your eyes drift closed.

Waking up, you thought it must have been close to morning but as you opened your eyes finally you realized it was just as dark as before and the apartment was quiet. Your dad was behind you still, his hand had made its way to your belly, his big fingers stretched out, thumb just under your breast bone, pinky reaching down towards your belly button. He had you in a possessive grip, fingers digging into your flesh. As you struggled out of your hazy sleep state you could feel rapid motion behind you.

Your whole body stiffened and Joel’s grip tightened on you, you knew what he was doing behind you, you could feel the jeans he had laid down to go to sleep in were unbuckled, the hand not on your tummy was tucked into his pants and he was touching himself. And now he was aware that you were awake, you started to try and move away from him, wanting to get out from under the blankets despite how cold it was outside. Joel’s hand tightened on your stomach and he pulled you back towards him,

“Don’t you go anywhere, sweetheart. It’s too cold out there,” He breathed, as if he wasn’t touching his dick right behind you, as if he wasn’t your father masturbating while holding onto you. Your brow knit in confusion but at the same time, your body warmed even further. There was heat in your cheeks that was mirrored in your belly, the low down part of your belly and even lower than that, the part of your body that had rarely been explored and had been left abandoned due to the apocalypse.

“Dad!’” You gasped out as he held you back.

“I’m sorry, babygirl,” He said, and his voice sounded truly regretful. “Just let Daddy do this,” He said, he tugged you back and you felt your butt pressed into his crotch. You were jostled by his hand moving inside his pants. You let out a nervous whimper,

“Dad, this…this is weird-“ You tried to swallow back the feeling of strange need you had, the need to experimentally push your hips back and feel him more.

“I know it feels funny, I’m sorry.” Joel breathed into your ear, his hand speeding up. “But I’m just…just lovin’ on you, peanut,” He spoke. You twisted yourself so you were laying on your back again, staring up at the ceiling. Your heart hammered in your chest and you couldn’t parse out what was disgust and what was excitement rising up inside of you. Your lower lip trembled, it was overwhelming to feel so many things all at once. Joel must have noticed your glassy eyes, and your trembling lip because a calm came over his body and he tugged his hand from his pants.

“Babygirl,” he reached up and took your chin in his fingers, “Don’t cry, I’m sorry.” While he still sounded truly remorseful for his violation, it didn’t seem like it was the end. You wanted to be upset that you could tell more was going to happen but you couldn’t help but notice relief wash through you. You wanted more and that thought horrified you.

“I’m sorry, but you do have to learn this stuff sometime…and who better to teach ya than your old man?” He leaned over you and pressed a delicate kiss to your cheek. You had felt him kiss you so many times, your lips when you were a very little girl, your cheek, the top of your head, and forehead as your grew up but this felt so different. Like a lover places kisses against the skin of their paramore, not the way a father loves his daughter. It both made you cringe and tingled, adding to the warmth in your belly.

“Daddy,” You said, your voice came out sounding weak and whiny, not like the voice you typically used, even with him. You hadn’t called him ‘daddy’ since you were small, and now you were grown up and the childish word sounded horribly sexual in your mouth. You were unsure of your every move, you questioned all of your feelings but Joel seemed so sure of himself, even as he apologized, as if he knew this was bad behavior but it had to happen. Joel reached under the blankets to the hem of your shirt and started to tug it up, you instinctively put your hand on his to stop him,

“Shh, peanut.” He said, “I’m just goin’ to take a quick look. I know it can be scary, but you’re my brave girl, aint ya?” You watched him smile encouragingly. He was so handsome and it warmed you through so you loosend your grip on his hand. Joel pulled the shirt up to expose your naked breasts to him, the air in the bedroom was frigid so goosebumps erupted on your chest, puckering the skin around your nipples and making them harden. You shivered and whimpered. Joel scooted closer to you, “Lets just get this off of you,” Joel murmured, barely speaking to you, just mumbling the words to himself as he pulled the shirt off of your head.

“There’s my girl,” He said. “Ya know, I ain’t seen your whole body since you grew up, darlin’” His fingers dragged down your chest and excitement and heat bubbled up and then the shame squashed it a little. Disgusting. Terrible. Naughty but needed. Joel looked down at you, you could barely meet his eyes, but he didn’t seem to mind, he was examining your chest. “Didn’t realize just how beautiful the girl I made was,” his fingers traced over one of your nipples, circling the hardened point. You shuddered at the feeling and he smiled at your reaction.

“Dad,” You said, your voice trembled over the word. “This feels-“ He cut you off by pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“I know, I’m sorry,” He said, “Daddy’s jus’ got to give you a little lovin’ so you understand,” he said. You wanted to tell him that you did understand, that you didn’t need to understand anymore but your body was betraying you because his fingers did feel good and the heat in your tummy was building. “Plus it’s still so cold, and if we get undressed we’ll get warmer,” he convinced. Undressed? More undressed than this? Did he mean he wanted to be naked too? The thought of your dad, in your small bed, pressed so close to you made you feel so many emotions you couldn’t focus on one in particular.

Joel’s pants were already undone, it was easy for him to slip them off and you watched, unable to stop him as he did so, lifting his hips to get them down his legs and then kicking them off. You could feel the heat of his lower body now and you knew there was the heavy presence of his cock right next to you, almost pressed into your pajama clad hip.

Joel was lying on his side, his eyes roaming over your bare chest, he moved closer and closer to you until he was wedged against your side. Your dad’s dick was pressed into your side but you hadn’t looked. You hadn’t turned your head towards him. You couldn’t, you felt like if you looked at him, this would all be real and you would have to actually face it.

It was getting warmer and warmer under the covers and you wished so badly you didn’t love the feeling as much as you did. Joel reached out and his big hand cupped one of your tits, “Fuck,” Joel breathed as his fingers dug into your flesh, dimpling the skin under his fingers. “Let’s get your pajama pants off of you, babygirl.” Joel rolled over so he was on top of you, he pushed your legs open enough to accommodate his body between them. You whined and closed your eyes, it felt too wrong to look up into the face of your dad while he was just in his dirty flannel shirt, his cock out, so you found every excuse to keep your eyes away.

“Look at me, peanut. Look at your Daddy,” He told you. Your heart skipped a beat, making you squirm in pleasure and embarrassment. Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to gaze up at him, his eyes were wild, his hair was a mess and you knew if you dropped your eyes you’d see his cock hard and angry with need. Joel seemed like a man possessed. Possessed with a need for you, his daughter, his sweet little girl. In the darkest corners of your mind, you loved that. You loved you could make him look like that.

“Lift your hips up,” He instructed. You pressed your hips up and felt his fingers dig into the side of your pajama pants and underwear, he gave them a tug, pulling them off of you. The cold air hit your body and you shivered. “I know it’s cold,” Joel whispered. “We’ll warm up together,” Joel told you. Your brow knit,

“Daddy,” you whined, squirming underneath him and closing your legs. “This is embarrassing,” You mumbled.

“No,” Joel said, his voice turning stern. “Don’t be embarrassed of your pretty body, Daddy’s going to appreciate every inch of ya,” He took your knees and pushed them open more, eyes glued to your pussy. You squirmed at the feeling of his gaze on your most intimate part and you looked up at him, trying to convince yourself that this was so wrong, that you needed to push him away and say no but you didn’t want to. You wanted to feel him. The desire for him was too strong. He was familiar, strong, everything a man should be and you wanted him. No matter how much you wished you could fight it off, no matter how much you felt disgusted by him, by your own needs, you wanted to explore his body.

“You ever had an orgasm, babygirl?” he asked, his fingers dragged from your knee down your thigh towards your bare pussy. You were taken aback by the question, orgasms weren’t something you thought about anymore. You felt a little anger that he felt like he could ask that question, but you were naked and splayed out in front of him, of course he felt like he could ask. You didn’t say anything, “C’mon, peanut. You can tell Daddy the truth, I won’t be mad.” He encouraged.

“Yes, just by myself,” You told him, “Not for a long time though,” You tried to remember the last time you had felt like this, this rush of excitement, wetness building in your core and heat burning through you.

“Poor girl,” Joel rubbed over your hip and stroked the backs of his fingers down your pubic bone, feeling the hair there, stroking over it. Your heart felt like it was going to stop at any second. Like it would beat so hard that it would just explode from the fear and longing that was working you up into what felt like a frenzy. “Daddy can help make you feel better,” he huffed as he scooted down a little to get a better angle to touch you.

Joel’s fingers slipped over your slit and you realized how wet you had gotten from your own fucking father, everything felt like it was melting away from you. You felt like you were losing sight of reality, partially because it felt so good and partially because of how horrible it was that you liked this.

Joel tsked under his breath as he gathered your wetness on his fingers, “God girl, you make a mess a’yourself like this often?” He asked with a chuckle. The sound of it eased some of the fear in you, it felt familiar to joke with him, even though his touch like this felt so completely unfamiliar.

“N-no,” you managed. You shivered again in the cold air as his other hand joined the one stroking your slit and gently started to spread your lips open. You instantly squirmed at the feeling and tried to close your knees.

“Aw c’mon, peanut, your daddy wants to see what he’s doin’, it’ll feel good.” He coaxed your legs back open and you whined in a feeble protest,

“But Dad, it’s…I’m-“

“None of that bashfulness shit, you think I’ve never seen a pussy before?” He asked. You opened your mouth but he cut you off, “How the fuck do ya think you got here?” That shut you up instantly. You let him spread your pussy lips open, his eyes focused on your wet cunt spread out in front of him.

It was so cold in the room you were thankful that your feet were still tucked under the blanket but the rest of you was covered with goosebumps, even your pussy started to get the little bumps as you shivered, despite the heat inside your body.

“That’s my good girl,” he purred as his fingers started to stroke up and down you spread pussy, not quite touching your clit but grazing around it. He knew exactly how to touch you, he knew exactly what you needed in each second. “How’s that, peanut?” He asked, looking at your face twisting in pleasure and then back down at your pussy that he was keeping spread open and softly stroking.

“So…s-so good.” You squeaked out, pressing your hips up, wanting him to stroke your clit properly but knowing he was doing everything with the clear purpose of working you up.

“That’s right,” Joel nodded, “Daddy’s got ya,” he said. “I knew you needed some lovin’” he breathed. The pad of his pointer finger grazed along your clit and it made you convulse, you felt so sensitive there, it had been so long since you had given it any attention. Joel chuckled, “That your special spot, right there?” he asked, teasing around it again. You whined, unable to form words as he teased your clit. He knew it was your clit, he could see that but him confirming that it was special wormed into your brain. He understood that was how you liked it, that your favorite, your special favorite, was having your clit gently played with.

“Dad,” You moaned, you reached out to him, wanting to grab hold of any part of his body. You came in contact with his bare knee and you dug your fingers into it.

“I know,” he said, “It feels good, don’t it?” he asked around a smile, you nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath. His fingers lovingly stroked around your clit, teasing you, bringing you closer and closer to a release you hadn’t felt in so long. You were so close, teetering there on the edge of bliss but then Joel pulled his fingers back, dropping his other hand too, leaving you desperate for more.

“Daddy!” You whined out, you wondered if he was doing this on purpose, making you ask for an orgasm from your own father. You watched his familiar features turn to worry at the whine in your voice,

“What is it, honey?” He asked in mock concern, he knew how frustrated you were, how much you wanted to come and he was teasing you anyway.

“I-I…I want more-“ you whined, pressing your hips up, it was harrowing to admit it outlaid. You watched Joel nod, the look of fake concern still plastered on his face.

“I know you do,” he half laughed, breaking through the concern. “Daddy’s still got stuff to teach ya,” He stroked down the lips of your pussy again to your entrance. You stiffened again as you felt him starting to push his middle finger inside of you. “I know it’s tight, babygirl.” His dark eyes met yours and you tried to express everything you were feeling to him through just a look. Joel had always been able to know what was wrong with you at just a glance and he had always been there to take care of whatever the problem was. You wanted him to understand the uncertainty, the desperate need and the horror at your own desires. When your eyes met, he softened slightly at the sight of the expression,“I’m sorry,” He said and you wondered how sorry he actually was. Was he sorry for teasing you? For making you need it? For all of it? “I just wanna be the one to teach my little girl all this,” he said, his voice was rough and earnest but his finger nudged again at your entrance. “It’ll probably hurt a little but I’ll go slow for ya,” he started to push his finger into you again. There was a little pain, but you were soaked and his finger slipped in fairly easily. Your cunt stretched to accommodate the thickness of your father’s finger and you longed for more at the same time as you wished you had the will to push him away. “I know, babygirl.” He said, trying to placate you. “C’mere, give me a kiss, it’ll make it feel better.” He leaned over you while his finger worked its way inside of you and pressed his lips to yours. Your heart lept into your throat. The thrill of a kiss that was so utterly forbidden was too much. You were a revolting girl. Revolting for how much you liked it. You found yourself kissing him back while he worked you open with his finger. Joel pumped his finger in and out of you, your cunt tightened around him with each thrust. You moaned into his mouth, lips parting enough for his tongue to press inside of your mouth, teasing your tongue.

“Dad,” You said as he pulled back, “Dad, it feels so good,” You said it like you couldn’t believe it, like if you didn’t get more you might go completely insane. Joel stroked your cheek with his free hand,

“I know, I’m goin’ to make you come around my fingers.” He assured you. You nodded, looking down between your bodies, his cock was hard between his legs, neglected while he paid attention to you. You had never seen a cock in real life before, your mouth hung open as you looked at it. At the same time, Joel’s thumb nudged against your clit, sending a spasm of pleasure through you.

“Daddy,” You gasped, Joel noticed your gaze on him and he chuckled.

“You see Daddy’s cock?” he asked. You nodded, your mouth hanging open in awe at it. Joel let his free hand drop to his cock and started to stroke it, showing it off to you. His cock was so big, imagining it inside of you made you squirm against his finger. Joel kept pumping his finger in and out of you, curling it up to stroke you from the inside while his thumb stroked over your clit in tantalizing circles. It was overwhelmingly good and now you couldn’t take your eyes off the mesmerizing sight of your father stroking his cock up and down, lavishing attention around the dusky head. Joel laughed again and your eyes snapped up to his face,

“You want your daddy’s cock, dont ya?” he asked. You squirmed, you couldn’t admit it, that was a horrible, disgusting thing to want but you couldn’t deny your body’s reaction. “Awww,” he laughed, “I can feel how bad you want it, peanut. You’re clenchin’ down on my finger- oh are you goin’ to come?” Joel was surprised by the way your face twisted, the way your whole body tightened. “C’mon, tell Daddy,” He growled. You nodded, unable to form words anymore as his finger filled you up repeatedly and his thumb teased your clit. “That’s my good girl, daddy’s got ya,” he breathed. The tension inside of you snapped, like spring finally releasing and you came around his fingers, gasping, the heat from your cunt seemed to spread up, enveloping you as you started to shake through your orgasm.

“Oh god, Daddy!” You moaned, watching now as Joel touched himself in earnest. “Daddy…daddy I wanna…” You started to babble almost incoherently, “I want your co-cock, Daddy, please give it to me—I…I need it.” You whined, not even fully realizing what you were saying. Tears pricked your eyes as you admitted your most shameful thoughts. Joel seemed to love the sound of you pleading with him, his hand tightened on his cock, pumping it up and down above you. He sat up on his knees and you desperately reached out for his cock, but your needy fingers were met with his hand closing around your wrist.

“No, no, no, little girl.” He said. “Not yet. Your little pussy isn’t ready for Daddy’s big cock yet,” he explained. You let out an angry whine and wanted to hide away from him, to reel back from him in frustration. As if reading your mind, he reached out and grabbed your hip, “Nuh-uh, stay right there. I want somethin’ to come on,” He growled. Your lower lip trembled, you felt so disgusted with yourself and still so needy that sob built in your chest. It was threatening to burst out, but you didn’t want to ruin it for him. Tears spilled out of your eyes as Joel continued to work his hand up and down his cock.

“Aw poor girl, I know Daddy’s bein’ mean,” he fucked into his own fist, teasing you with the visual of his cock gliding in and out of his hand faster and fast. You watched Joel’s facial expression change, tiny micro-expressions of pain, lust, desperation, anger and intense desire flitted over his features, or maybe it was just feral need. Determination to find his orgasm, but the words he choked out next made you sure there had been moments of real pain in his expression,

“I’m s-sorry,” He actually sounded sorry, sorry for so much. Sorry for the world that you were living in, sorry that his pain and suffering had turned into darkness that had nursed a need for you, his daughter. His heart, soul, flesh and blood. Sorry that he had decided it was time to act on it. Sorry that you enjoyed every depraved fucking second. “You goin’…goin’ to look so pretty with my come painted on your tummy,” he groaned and watched him squeeze around the head of his cock and direct it down as thick ropes of his spend spilled out over your tummy and pubic bone. You let out a sob as he groaned through his pleasure. “Fuck,” he breathed as you cried. “I’m so sorry, babygirl. Let Daddy hold ya,” he said even as he came down from his own high.

“Aw, peanut, you’re freezing,” He said as he wrapped his arms around you and gathered you up. He kissed the side of your head, “Daddy’s sorry, so sorry. Felt so good.” He shuddered and tugged the quilts up around the two of you. You took a deep breath of his familiar, comforting smell and allowed yourself to relax against him, he squeezed you tighter as he felt you relax.

“Do you love me, dad?” You asked, unsure of why you needed the reassurance more than anything now but you asked and waited for his answer.

“More than air, peanut.” He breathed.

“I love you too,” You said even as your naked body warmed against your father’s under the quilt and his come dried on your skin.

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