My Dad's Easy Solution

So, my dad started dating this woman last year, and let me tell you, the pendejo wouldn’t shut up about her. Every time I saw him, it was another drama. “She’s so demanding, Bianka,” or “She doesn’t understand me.” Like, huevón, what did you expect? I was eating my lomo saltado one night, listening to his shit for the hundredth time, and I just snapped. “If she’s such a pain in the ass, why the fuck are you still with her?” I asked him, my mouth probably full.

He got all flustered, his face turning this funny red color. He looked down at his plate and mumbled something about, you know, needing to satisfy his physical needs. I almost laughed right in his face. “Seriously, Papi? You’re going through all that headache just to get your dick wet? That’s pathetic.” I said it straight up, no filter, that’s how I am.

He sighed, this heavy, tired sound, and explained that he’s a man, he needs to do it at least occasionally. The way he said it, so defeated, like it was some kind of chore he had to suffer through with this annoying woman… it did something to me. I went silent for a few seconds, my mind racing. I could feel this weird, dangerous idea forming in my head, and before I could stop myself, it just fell out of my mouth. “It’s better to find an easier way to get sex,” I told him, my voice a little lower.

He looked up at me, confused. “Like what?”

I took a deep breath. This was it, no going back. “I don’t know… you can hire a girl,” I said, shrugging like it was nothing. Then I dropped the bomb. “Or even me.”

His eyes went wide, man, like two plates. “Are… are you being serious, Bianka?”

I looked right back at him, not blinking. “Yeah. It’s not a big deal.” And in my head, it kinda wasn’t. Sex is sex. It’s a physical thing. My boyfriend is cool, but he’s not always around, and I get bored. Why should my dad suffer with some lame woman when I’m right here, young, tight, and definitely not gonna complain about his taste in music? He just stared at me for a long time, then finally said, “Let me think about it,” and we went on with our day like I hadn’t just offered to let him fuck me.

But I knew. I could feel it in the air. Later that night, I was in my room, scrolling through my phone, probably posting a thirst trap on my stories, when his text came through. My heart did this crazy flip. It was just a simple message: “I accept your offer if it’s still available.”

I didn’t even hesitate. I just typed back, “Yea ofc :)”. A fucking smiley face. I’m such a zorra, I know.

Then came the next text. “Can you come to my room?”

Huevón, that’s when the nerves hit me. Like, for real. My hands got a little sweaty. This wasn’t some random pata from a club; this was my dad. I was really about to do this. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the fuck down. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was wearing just a little satin camisole and these tiny shorts. No bra, obviously. I ran my hands over my tits, pinched my nipples hard through the fabric, feeling them get instantly hard. This was happening.

I walked out of my room and stood in front of his door. The hallway felt a million miles long. I knocked, softly, and heard his voice say, “Come in.” I pushed the door open. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, already in his pajama pants, no shirt. He has a decent body for his age, I’ll give him that. Not like a gym rat, but solid.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, far from him, feeling super awkward. My heart was pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. “So…” I said, because what the fuck else do you say?

“Lie down beside me,” he said, his voice a little rough.

I did as he said, scooting over until I was lying on my side, facing him. The sheets smelled like him, his cologne, that familiar smell that was now suddenly super charged, super different.

“What are you comfortable doing with me?” he asked, and I had to give him credit for asking, I guess.

I looked him right in the eye. “I’m ok with anything.” I meant it. I was already wet, my chochita getting all hot and bothered just from the taboo of it all.

He didn’t say anything else. He just nodded, his eyes dark and serious. Then his hand went to the waistband of my shorts. “Take these off,” he said, and it wasn’t a question. My hands were a little shaky, but I managed to push the shorts down my legs and kick them off onto the floor. I was lying there in just my black lace panties and the camisole. He hooked his fingers into the sides of my panties and pulled them down, too, slow and deliberate. Now I was completely naked from the waist down. The air felt cool on my wet skin.

I saw him grab a bottle of lube from his nightstand. The sound of the cap clicking open was so loud in the quiet room. He poured some onto his fingers, cold and slick, and then his hand was between my legs. I gasped a little as his fingers rubbed that gel over my pussy, spreading my lips, circling my clit. It was a clinical touch at first, just making sure I was slippery, but it sent jolts of electricity through my whole body. He was preparing me to take his cock. My dad’s cock. The thought made my head spin.

He got on top of me then, his weight settling between my legs. He was still wearing his pajama pants, but I could feel his hard dick pressing against me through the fabric, a thick, insistent pressure. He fumbled with his waistband for a second, freeing himself, and then I felt the blunt, hot head of his cock nudging at my entrance. I held my breath. He pushed inside, and fuck, he was big. Bigger than I thought he’d be. There was a stretch, a deep, filling pressure that made me let out a shaky moan. My eyes rolled back a little. This was really happening. My dad was inside me.

He started fucking me then, a slow, deep, steady rhythm. His bed was creaking with every thrust, this old, familiar sound that I’d heard my whole life, but now it was because of this. Because he was pounding his dick into his daughter’s wet pussy. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into me. I could feel every inch of him, stretching me open, rubbing against spots inside me that made me see stars. I was moaning, I couldn’t help it, my fingers digging into his back. It was wrong, so fucking wrong, but it felt too good. It was this nasty, secret, incredible feeling.

After a few minutes of this, my brain, which had been mostly just static and pleasure, suddenly clicked on. I put my hands on his chest, stopping him for a second. “Wait,” I breathed out. “Aren’t you going to use a condom? I’m not on birth control.”

He stopped, his cock still buried deep inside me. He looked down at me, his face flushed. “I don’t have any condoms,” he said, and he actually looked a little embarrassed.

Fuck. Of course he didn’t. Pendejo.

He pulled out of me then, and I felt suddenly empty, my pussy clenching around nothing. “Can you finish me with your mouth instead?” he asked, his voice husky.

I looked at his dick, slick with my juices, hard and veiny. I didn’t even have to think about it. “Yeah,” I said, my voice already sounding slutty and eager.

I slid down the bed and got on my knees on the floor in front of him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed now. I took his cock in my hand, feeling how hard and hot it was. I looked up at him for a second, saw the way he was watching me, his eyes hungry, and then I leaned forward and took the head into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around the tip, tasting myself on him, that salty, musky flavor. Then I started sucking him, deep and slow, using my hand on the base of his shaft. I’m good at this, I know I am. I bobbed my head up and down, making it all wet and sloppy, the way guys like it. I could hear his breathing getting heavier, little grunts coming from his throat.

“Fuck, Bianka…” he groaned, and hearing him say my name like that, while I had his dick in my mouth, sent another wave of heat through my cunt.

I sucked him harder, faster, wanting to make him lose his mind. I deep-throated him as much as I could, gagging a little, but I didn’t stop. I wanted all of it. His hands tangled in my hair, not pushing, just holding on. Then his whole body tensed up, and he let out this loud, guttural groan. I felt his cock pulse in my mouth, and then the first hot, salty shot hit the back of my throat. I swallowed it all, every last drop, milking him with my mouth until he was soft and spent.

I sat back on my heels, licking my lips. He was just sitting there, panting, looking down at me with this dazed, fucked-out expression. We’ve been having sex for over a year now. It’s just a thing we do. It’s easy. And it’s fucking hot.