Daddy turned over and said nothing. He wouldn’t look at voyeur slut me. I just smiled. I knew he would come back to me. The next day I positioned myself on the bed and started masturbating, bent over with my stockings pulled just above the knee. I heard his footstep down the hallway. He didn’t stop at the end of the hall this time. I began to moan louder as his steps grew closer. I could hear the urgency in his footfalls, just barely not a run. He must’ve been thinking about me all day. He knew I would do this, but he came anyway. He was mine now. He pressed against me from behind, his strong hands squeezing into the fat of my ass, fingers disappearing in the succulence. I whimpered. I’m just your innocent little girl, Daddy. I’ve never done anything like this before. Please be gentle. He wasn’t gentle, and I didn’t want him to be. I wanted to feel his burning facial hunger, and I wanted him to sate my own with his self-hatred. You’re a sick fuck daddy, but so am I. We can be sick fucks together. His cock pushed all the way in. I lurched forward, a shriek erupting from my lips as he broke my chastity. I felt the blood ooze out from me, carried by amateur the fluid of my desire. He didn’t give me a moment’s mercy. His breath was hot mature on my neck, his thrusts were unrelenting, I screamed and lurched, agony taking me. I pretended to try to get away. I wanted him to think I didn’t want it. I knew that’s what got him off. He wanted to think he had the power here, that he wasn’t so weak that he was seduced by his own daughter. I let him feel that power. I whimpered and cried my protests, but on the inside I was moaning like a whore, savoring every violent arc of pain and pleasure. Eventually I couldn’t pretend anymore. My false cries of terror turned to whines of delight, each one punctuated with a yelp as his pelvis slammed against whore my backside. He pushed my head into the bedding, and I bit the pillow, growling in pleasure. My back bowed, my ass elevated, my breasts flattened beneath me. I learned the fluid motions of a woman’s lust there, being taken like a bitch by my own father. I wouldn’t have had it any other way. “Fuck me, Daddy!” I cried pathetically. The guise of weak femininity only encouraged him. He took a grip of my hair and wrenched my head back, forcing me to look upside-down at his wrathful visage, which was blurred with my ecstatic tears. You’re in control, Daddy. You’re doing this to me. You’re giving me this pleasure. I’m powerless to stop you. I glanced at the camera, at my dad filming as he stroked his cock. She pulled back the flaps of my mesh cover facial up, exposing my bare tits, “Hell, no one will whore even mature notice me.” And then she bent at the waist and gave each of my nipples a quick lick. I let cynthia lead the way, amateur though. Look her up. And me bending over and showing anyone who hadn’t already noticed, the lack of material in the thong. The Arabian dancers did wear transparent bottoms but at least they wore panties. Day two Scared witless, she froze and pissed onto the bed as the thought that she might die suddenly blew threw her panicked and confused mind. I know it is prom so I completely understand. They stimulated my sheath, the silky delight spilling pleasure through me while my clit ached and throbbed. I took a few wipes, and cleaned myself up, disposing of the used condom. It was a familiar sensation. Genevieve pressed her shaved twat down onto my cock while I stared at my mother's voyeur mature slut depths. “We’ll probably see each other this summer.”