I want a girl to squirt in my face and mouth. I honestly don't think I could drink too much female ejaculate!

This ginger slut was edging her orgasm, but lost control and gushed an entire liter of female ejaculation.

Female ejaculation, what are your thoughts?

Just a random thought. Would it still be considered incest if a father/daughter mother/son got pregnant not by natural sex methods, instead used artificial means (ie. male ejaculates in cup, female uses turkey baster)???

1234...I confess that im not sure what to do with my mom. she approached me the other day and kissed me on the cheek and got increasingly sexual. i wasnt sure what to do. she then started touching my cock on the outside of my pants. i have always considered my mom a milf, she has dd 34s and has a decent face. by the way she is 55. i decided to go along with it and started making out with her. she started talking dirty saying, ive always wanted to fuck your young cock, and im 20. eventually we got naked and i got hard. she blew me until i came but we kept going. i went down on her and..she came!!!! it was my first female ejaculation!!! anyway, we started banging anally and she screamed like a bitch. i came again in her ass. i cant wait to do it again!

ROUND THREE / UNEXPECTED DAY THREE

Continuation of my Minnesota adventure: May 2024 [another very long post]

To recap:
I was visiting T, my 52-year-old long-time red-haired FWB, for the first time since October 2021. In the interim, she’d had major female surgery, put on some unwanted weight due to the anti-depressant meds she’d been taking (although she still looked amazing to me), and dumped a 20-y/o lover because “he came too fast, didn’t have a decent job, and couldn’t eat pussy to save his life.” I’d made the drive from Denver to her small town, located a couple of hours southwest of the Twin Cities, with the intent of doing what we always did. That involved catching up on news since the last time we were together, taking in concerts, museums and other attractions while spending the weekend in the Twin Cities, and having sex – lots and lots of sex.

I woke up around 7:30 Tuesday morning, following another three-hour fuck session that had wrapped up around two a.m. Because T babysits her two-year-old grandson every weekday afternoon, I had only planned to sleep over for two nights and then come back for her on Friday. She was dead asleep alongside me, with the covers pulled up over her head, so I left her alone and got dressed in the living room. Her car, a Ford Focus, had been running on fumes the previous evening, so I filled it up at the nearest gas station and then stopped off at a drive-thru for a bagel. Culinary note: I asked for the bagel to be toasted, with cream cheese on the side. Who the fuck toasts a bagel without slicing it first??? Sheesh.

Anyway, I returned to her place and was having my breakfast when T came out of the bedroom and plopped down beside me. I noticed she’d put on yoga pants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt, which clearly indicated she was officially "not in the mood." She is NOT a morning person, and that includes morning sex. I offered her half my bagel, which she declined. She’s also not a breakfast person. “Are you sure you want to leave today?” T asked. “I thought we settled that on Sunday,” I replied. “I’ll be back Friday afternoon and we’ll spend the weekend in St. Paul.” She gave me one of those inscrutable looks that leave guys like me clueless. “Well, Donna is coming over for dinner. We do this every few weeks and, besides, she wants to meet you.”

Donna was one of T’s former coworkers, a tall Nordic blonde who’d succumbed to T’s bisexual charms during a blizzard in February and was apparently still infatuated with my red-haired Viking princess. “You can leave if you want,” T teased, “but you’ll miss out on a fun dinner.” Something told me that dinner wasn’t the only thing I’d miss by heading north, so I agreed to delay my drive by a day. Hey – I may be clueless when it comes to women, but I like to think I’m not an idiot!

We spent most of the day pretty much the same as on Monday, watching TV, reading, and having light-hearted conversation. After homemade bean burritos for lunch, I agreed to help her sort through her massive clothes collection that took up most of a second bedroom. It was a claustrophobic environment dominated by two huge dressers her grandparents had left to her. Piles of clothes occupied every flat surface, but the drawers were nearly empty. Our task was to divide the wardrobe up into Donate and Keep. I suggested the latter category was likely to include “fits me now” and “I hope it’ll fit again someday.” That remark earned me a not-so-playful punch on my arm, followed immediately by an offer to “kiss and make it better.”

For about two hours, I pulled out articles of clothing as T passed judgment on each item’s future. It was really humid, even with the a/c running, so she'd changed into a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had been cut down into shorts. Occasionally she felt compelled to try things on to see if they fit – some did, but many did not – which meant she was regularly showing me her tits while putting on blouses, and turning around to show off her lovely ass with each skirt or pair of pants we came across. There was hardly any floor space, so we were constantly bumping into each other. T was also being very tactile – stroking my arm, smacking me on the ass when I didn’t move out of her way fast enough, and delivering a series of random kisses. Finally, I got up the courage to ask about her behavior.

“You know,” I began apprehensively, “I can’t help but notice how affectionate you are. It’s like the old T has returned.” During past visits, she’d regularly initiated public displays of affection, but I never felt comfortable asking about this behavior – mostly because I didn’t want it to stop. “Why now; why me?” She froze with her hand halfway reaching for a hanger and turned to face me. “You really want to know?” she asked quietly. “Always,” I said. “I used to behave like this a lot, because I’m an affectionate person, but my actions kept getting taken the wrong way. Nearly every guy I’ve been with assumed I was coming on to them sexually, as in, I wanted to fuck them right then and there. You, on the other hand, never give me that vibe, because I know you truly care about me as a person, not just some sex object.”

I must have had a weird look on my face while trying to process what she’d said, because she stepped over the huge pile of clothes still on the floor and bumped up against me, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a seriously hard kiss on my mouth. The phrase, “You know I adore you,” escaped my lips before I could even think about what I was saying. In return, T took half a step back and countered with, “Well, if you must know, I really DO want to fuck you, but that’ll have to wait because it’s almost time for me to go be with my grandson.” With that she giggled, pushed past me to climb out of the room, and called back in my direction as she was putting on her sneakers, “I’m watching him over at their place, because I don’t want to inflict him on you two days in a row. I’ll be back around 4:30.” And with that, she departed.

At 5:00 there was a knock on the door, so I hopped off the couch and went to answer it. T had previously texted me to say she wouldn’t be home until six o’clock but offered no further details. I opened up to greet a tall, slender woman with close-cropped blonde hair and a narrow face, carrying a grocery bag in each hand. I said, “You must be Donna,” at the same moment she said, “You must be Zac,” and we both laughed. I grabbed the bags out of her hands and took them straight to the kitchen. Since T lives in a double-wide trailer (err, “manufactured”) home, the counter was a mere three steps away. I explained that T was running late, and Donna countered with, “Yeah, she called to tell me that while I was at the Hy-Vee (the local supermarket), so I should just get dinner ready without her.” I offered to act as a backup chef, so we both did food prep. The menu included cucumber salad with onion, sliced tomatoes drizzled with olive oil, beer cheese soup, a baguette of French bread, and strawberry ice cream for dessert.

As we worked, we chatted amiably. I was curious about T’s experiences while working alongside Donna, and she confirmed that the stories I’d heard about harassment were true. “She just seems to attract asshole guys,” Donna said with conviction. Then, as she realized what she’d said, added, “Well, not you, obviously.” I laughed and countered with, “The jury might still be out on that one,” but she was quick to disagree. “Oh, no. T says you’re the sweetest guy. She told me you filled up her tank yesterday.” I couldn’t resist the double entendre. “You mean her car’s gas tank, right?” Donna burst out laughing. “Yeah – that, too.”

But before we could delve into additional semi-smutty talk, T returned and gave Donna a big hug and kiss. “Did you rope Zac into helping you with dinner?” she asked. “He volunteered and did a great job cutting up the vegetables,” she replied. I’d suggested we do the salad Hungarian style, dressed with sour cream, vinegar, and a dash of paprika. Lacking a dining table, we took our plates and bowls to the living room – five steps from the kitchen (!!) – and ate at the coffee table. I parked myself on T’s leather recliner, while the ladies sat on the couch.

After dessert, I gathered up the dishes and offered to do clean-up, to which there were no objections! While I was washing, drying and putting things away, T dragged out her cannabis paraphernalia and the two of them were soon “dabbing away.” Donna asked if they should save some for me, but T put the kibosh on that. “He’s got too much of a tolerance for pot,” T explained. “We split a tube Sunday night, and he didn’t even get high. I don’t think it affected him at all.” I chimed in with, “Well, it made me horny.” T responded with a laugh. “Geez, Zac, you’re hornier than any guy I know, so it clearly wasn’t the pot talking.” Naturally, Donna had to come back with, “So, how horny was he?” There was some whispering that followed between the two of them, and I was too far away to hear the conversation, except for the part where Donna said out loud, “How many times?” and then followed with “Oh, my god.”

I wrapped up my KP duties and started back toward my seat when T piped up with a request. “Zac, honey – can you go pick up something for us to drink? We’re too wasted to drive.” I reminded her we still had that Smirnoff swill from the night before, but T said, “Oh, I poured that out. It wasn’t very good.” That was the understatement of the week! Donna suggested a bottle of wine so, after a brief discussion of white versus red, they agreed “red” was the best choice. I grabbed my car keys and left the two of them puffing away on the couch.

The same woman who’d helped us the previous evening was back behind the counter. “How was that Smirnoff?” she asked. “Looking for another bottle?” [That's the issue with small towns; everyone knows your business!] I told her it was the worst stuff I’d tasted since that shot of vodka I’d sampled in a Bratislava grocery store decades earlier. That got a laugh out of her, and we chatted for about ten minutes about our respective overseas adventures, until I suddenly remembered why I was there. Two minutes and $15 later, I was on my way back to T’s place with what was reportedly a halfway decent bottle of California Cabernet.

As I walked into her place, the lights were off and no one was up front. I set the bottle down and slowly felt my way forward. The bedroom door was closed, and the rest of the place was nearly pitch-black. Because of the harsh Minnesota winters and the lack of decent insulation in her place, T keeps all the windows blocked year-round, because “it’s too much trouble to always be redoing them.” It’s like a goddamned cave in there; you can’t tell whether it’s day or night without opening the door and looking outside. I had my hands outstretched to aid in moving ahead, but thankfully it’s a very narrow hallway with no obstacles. I put my ear to the bedroom door but couldn’t make out any sounds. I thought about calling out, but instead I retraced my steps to the living room, stripped down to just my boxer briefs, and returned to where I’d just been standing.

As quietly as I could, I twisted the door handle and pulled the bedroom door open. The first thing I noticed was a pile of women’s clothes lying on the floor. Peeking around the corner, I saw two naked women erotically positioned and illuminated by the dim bedside lamp at the far side of the room. T was lying on her back, her thighs spread wide and the fingers of her left hand making slow circles around her clit. Donna was sitting on T’s face, grinding away, while the palms of her hands were pressed flat against the bedroom wall, since T’s double bed has no headboard. Neither woman was being particularly vocal – Donna was breathing hard, but quietly, whereas whatever sounds T was making were being directed straight into Donna’s vagina. I took off my boxers and began to stroke my cock, which was quickly at attention.

I was being quiet, but Donna turned her head and caught me out of the corner of her eye as I was standing at the side of the bed with my cock in my hand. “Guess—who’s—back?” Donna managed to announce, in between gasps for air. T mumbled something that I couldn’t understand, but Donna was apparently skilled at interpreting mouth-to-pussy speech. “She wants you to go down on her,” Donna translated, so I wasted no time climbing onto the bed and hopping to it. I pushed T’s hand aside and wrapped my lips around her little button-clit. I sucked on it hard, which really sets her off, and then I shoved two fingers deep into her pussy.

Eighteen months earlier, when T had the first of two back-to-back vaginal surgeries, she was worried they would affect her “pleasure parts,” as she called them. But for the past two nights, I was a witness that she was as orgasmic as she’d ever been. Meanwhile, Donna was raking her crotch up and down T’s mouth, and I looked up just as T took the hand she’d been using on her clit and stuck her middle finger deep into Donna’s ass. “Well, that’s an interesting turn of events,” I thought to myself. T was not a fan of anal play on herself, although she occasionally enjoyed it when I moistened my index finger and rimmed her butthole while simultaneously circling her clit with my tongue. She calls it “the double roundabout.” This was the first time I’d seen her finger-fuck another woman in the ass, although she’s never been shy about pounding a girlfriend’s other hole with her fingers. It didn’t take long for me to get T bucking and moaning, and I stayed with it until she exploded into a thigh-quivering orgasm.

After lifting myself up to catch a breath, I decided not to continue with more cunnilingus but instead mounted T, shoving my cock into her ultra-moist pussy. She made a half-hearted effort to push me away, but my 225 pounds was no match for her 140, so I stayed put. With Donna’s firm ass staring me in the face – she hadn’t dismounted from T’s face, despite already having had at least one orgasm – I balanced precariously on top of T and used my hands to grip Donna’s buttocks and spread them apart. Seconds later, she had the experience of two tongues on her, with one at each hole.

T mumbled something, with Donna apparently understanding her query, because she replied, “He’s got his tongue in my ass.” I sure did! But while focusing my attention on the shapely tush in front of me, I’d stopped fucking T and simply left my cock motionless, albeit balls-deep in her pussy. She seemed miffed by this lack of attention, because she responded by wrapping her legs around my thighs and humping up against me, fighting to attain yet another orgasm. Donna came with a grunt and a shudder, moaned, “Ohhhh, gawd!” and rolled off T’s face to collapse on the far side of the bed. Unfortunately, her unexpected dismount caused her knee to smack against the side of my head, and I think I might have lost consciousness for a few seconds. When I regained my senses, I’d rolled off T, having ended up on the same side of the bed where Donna had landed.

“Are you OK?” Donna asked, with concern in her voice. “Did I hurt you?” I pressed my hand to the spot where her knee had made contact with my skull. “No blood, no foul, I guess,” was my flippant reply, which was enough to elicit a hearty laugh from both women. It seemed like a good time to take a break, so I slid down to lie across the bottom edge of the mattress and laid my head on my outstretched arm. T said, “I think we could all use a drink,” and for once, I agreed that was a good idea. She climbed off the bed and slipped quickly into the kitchen, where we could hear her cursing because she couldn’t immediately find a corkscrew. I was torn between remaining in the bedroom and watching Donna play with her clit, which she was doing absent-mindedly, and following T into the kitchen to lend a hand with the wine. With the cry, “Zac – come here. I need you,” the decision was made for me.

I found T leaning back against the sink, the wine bottle in one hand and a fairly elaborate corkscrew device in the other. “I think I’m too high to figure this out,” she admitted, so I relieved her of both items and managed to extract the cork without damaging my hand, or my male ego. T looked absolutely delicious, nude with her pale pink nipples at full attention, her flushed skin accentuating the freckles on her chest, her red triangle down below curly and enticing, and the tang of pussy juice in the air. We stood there, wordlessly, for a few seconds – each checking out the other person’s body – until she reached out and wrapped her hand around my semi-tumescent cock. Then, she uttered a sentence any red-blooded male would love to hear in that situation: “I want to watch you fuck Donna, and then I’ll clean you both up.”

She and I have performed this act before, but the last time was old-COVID. Back in 2019, while spending a fuck-filled four-day weekend in a St. Paul Airbnb, she’d picked up a waitress at the neighborhood pastry shop. We’d gone there for breakfast two days in a row, where during each visit T got more and more flirty with the young woman behind the counter. On Day Three, after telling me to pay the bill and then scram, she somehow talked Simone into coming over to our place once her shift ended at noon. Awaiting her arrival, T told me Simone was only interested in girl-on-girl sex, which was OK with me. And true to her word, Simone showed up on time, stripped off her clothes, and dove into T’s pussy as if she hadn’t had sex in months – which turned out to be the case. I sat on the sidelines, stroking and watching, as they both worked each other into multiple orgasmic frenzies. Taking a break, T said to Simone, “I’m thinking about sucking Zac’s cock, because I love the taste of his cum, but I’d like it even better if it came dripping out of your pussy.” Simone seemed more than a bit skeptical, until T told her that I’d do her doggy-style so she didn’t have to see me fucking her, and that I’d do my best to ejaculate quickly. Given the stroke job I’d been doing on myself the previous 30 minutes, that last part wasn’t going to be a problem. Simone agreed, somewhat reluctantly, and I took her from behind – a deliciously tight 22-year-old pussy that needed only half a dozen pumps to get blasted. T fulfilled her part of the bargain and even managed to make Simone orgasm one last time as my man-jizz ended up all over T’s face and then down her throat.

On this evening, however, there was no reluctant acceptance on Donna’s part. I carried three full wine glasses into the bedroom, distributed them accordingly, and then T announced the next stage in our hours-long fuck-fest. As soon as T explained what she wanted us to do, Donna and I looked at each other and asked, nearly simultaneously, “How do you want me?” That got all three of us laughing, but T had her own idea. “Do her missionary, Zac, so the cum won’t leak out before I gobble it up.” Thankfully I wasn’t drinking from my wineglass at that moment, because I would have probably done a spit-take onto her lovely striped cotton sheets. Instead, I drained the last of the liquid and handed my glass to T, who set it down on the nightstand closest to the bedroom door. Then I dove forward to shove my face into Donna’s crotch.

I’d caught her by surprise, but she didn’t voice a single objection, instead sliding her butt forward so she could lie flat on the bed. I tongued her slit for a minute or two – she tasted really good – and then hopped up onto my knees and guided my dick into her pussy hole. Donna reached up and pushed against my shoulders. I thought she was doing that to get me off her, but she only wanted to create enough room to pull her knees up and press them against my chest. This was actually a very effective fucking position for me, because her legs acted as a sort of spring against which I could thrust and retract. She supplied at least half of the motion, and I was able to hang onto her knees for leverage instead of having to use my arms to bear the weight of my body.

We built up a good rhythm, with lots of heavy breathing on both our parts. Meanwhile, T was sitting cross-legged on her side of the bed, finger-fucking herself with an in-and-out motion that matched my own pussy pounding. Just as T said to Donna, “Don’t be surprised, but he sometimes takes a while to come,” I froze on the downstroke as my cock pumped three or four streams of cum deep into Donna’s pussy. All she said was, “Done?” and when I could only nod my head, she used her legs to push me off her while holding her ass up off the bed. T swooped in and dove for the gusto, first licking up the drops of cum that had dripped off my cock as I withdrew, and then using her fingers to dig deep for the rest of the load.

I managed to stand up at the foot of the bed, knees sagging a bit against the edge of the mattress to maintain my balance. T was really slurping up what I’d left for her, and I jacked my dick a bit as I watched. Having completed her task on Donna, T spun around and licked me clean. “Fuck, that was fun!” she exclaimed, and then guzzled down the rest of the wine in her glass.

We’d easily passed the three-hour mark, and I was exhausted. The ladies climbed off the bed and headed to the bathroom, while I flopped down onto the mattress with the aim of slipping off to dreamland. T had other ideas, however. “Hey,” she called out, which awakened me from my near-slumber. “Donna’s staying over, so you’ll have to camp out on the couch.” I began to object, but my argument fell on deaf ears. “There’s just no room, Zac. Sorry. You’ll find an extra pillow and a blanket in the room where my clothes are.” I passed Donna on my way down the hall, pillow and blanket in hand. She’d stopped off in the kitchen for a glass of water and patted me on the ass while I was setting things up on the couch. I straightened up and gave her a kiss on the cheek, but she put her hand gently on the side of my face – coincidentally, the same side where she’d kneed me earlier – and gave me a deep kiss on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning, OK?” she whispered. I thanked her for an amazingly fun time, which got a shy smile from her before she returned to the bedroom and closed the door.

I’m sure I fell asleep within minutes of stretching out on the couch. At six-foot-zero, I had just enough room to lie on my side (my preferred sleeping position) with my knees slightly bent. Even so, my head was pressed against one arm of the couch, and my feet rested up against the other one. Many hours later – I had no idea of the time, since the windows were blocked and my iPhone was in the other room – I was awakened by something stroking my lower leg. Forgetting where I was for a moment, I imagined it was my cat, Jemima, since she rubs up against me every morning as if to say, “Hey, human. It’s time for my breakfast.” So, when I opened my eyes to see Donna perched on the edge of the couch, as naked as she’d been the night before, I regained full consciousness damned quickly.
She put her finger to her lips and motioned for me to slide over. As skinny as she was, there was still hardly any room to accommodate her lying next to me, so she ended up mostly on top, one knee between my legs, her well-trimmed crotch pressed against my hip, her breasts against my chest, and her mouth a mere inch from mine. “I know T isn’t into morning sex,” Donna said in a very low voice, “but I hear you’re quite the fan, right?” I agreed and lifted my head up so I could give her a good-morning kiss. She slipped her tongue into my mouth while reaching down and wrapping her fingers around my rapidly rising cock. “Mmm, morning wood is the best wood, don’t you agree?” she teased. She squeezed me gently, and we continued to make out as she ground her pussy against my hip bone. Once she determined I was sufficiently erect, Donna threw her leg across my body and straddled me effortlessly. “You were on top last night, so now it’s my turn,” she said. Before I could object – not that it even occurred to me to do so – she had my cock all the way inside her pussy and was rocking back and forth on it with gusto. I reached up and tugged on her small nipples, which were like rock-hard cherries, and she worked her way into two very quick and enthusiastic orgasms.
Donna climbed off after her second orgasm but recognized I hadn’t had one. She teased me a bit with her tongue on the very tip of my cock, pushing my hands away as I tried (unsuccessfully) to engage her mouth more fully. “Be a good boy and put your hands behind your head,” she instructed, “or else I’ll leave you to take matters into your own hands.” At my age, I wasn’t sure how much cum I could muster, given the prodigious amount I’d pumped into her pussy just six or seven hours earlier, but any blow job was better than no blow job. [I think I read that saying needlepointed on a pillow, once.] Donna continued to tease my twitching cock, using only her tongue and resting her hands on either side of my body for balance. She must have toyed with me like this for 10 or 15 minutes before finally relenting and taking my dick all the way into her mouth. Her tongue action continued to be amazing as she bobbed her head up and down only slightly. Still, it was enough of a turn-on for me that I managed to ooze out a bit of cum as I orgasmed. Donna gave me a pretty smile, climbed off the couch, and said she was heading to the shower. “You could probably use one, too,” she insisted, so I joined her under a thin stream of warm water and soaped up her body as she returned the favor. We didn’t get into anything more sexual, but I truly enjoyed the mutual contact.

T climbed out of her bedroom about an hour later, already dressed for the day in a t-shirt and yoga pants. Donna and I were sitting on the couch, a respectable distance away from each other, as we watched a local TV news show. T greeted each of us with a kiss and then went into the kitchen to brew herself a cup of tea. Upon her return, she squeezed in between us and stretched out her legs so her feet rested on the coffee table. Looking at each of us in turn, she asked, “So, did you two have a nice morning fuck?” Before either of us could answer, though, she leaned over and kissed Donna on the mouth. “Thanks for taking one for the team,” she giggled. “You know I’m not into old-noon dick.” I shot back, “I guess I'll set my alarm for 12:05 then.” T stuck out her tongue at me and said, “You’re leaving for St. Paul as soon as you get packed, and Donna will help me with my clothing once you leave.”

After that comeback, I had nothing more to say, so I placed my pjs and my shaving kit into my suitcase and headed for the door. T forestalled me as I passed through the kitchen and wrapped her arms around me in a sensuous hug. “I’ll see you on Friday, lover,” she breathed into my ear, and moments later I was in my car. My final, fleeting thought as I drove down Broadway toward the highway was, “Well, I think my tongue AND my cock can use the three-day break.”

Using the term "female" to describe a slut lol. Might as well say you want to have sexual relations with a female using prophylactic until ejaculation ensues. You are a FAAAAAAGGG!

I confess I have a very tiny penis, 1" flaccid & 3" hard at its best...and I suffer from a severe case of premature ejaculation, I have never been able to go for longer than a minute without stopping. I am a useless sexual joke and I can only be used to serve and be considered a female. I cant get hard anymore & if you were to get a look at it in person you would realize how sad and pathetic it is, I am small and well well below average men size...I was married for 17 years right out of high school to a very beautiful sexy and until a couple years ago she said she was happy and fulfilled. Once she reached 33 she was getting sexually frustrated and I guess she just wanted out. She didn't waste any time and was having casual regular sex the day we separated. She is now in love and loyal to her black lover that is very very well equipped, in shape, young & I know why she worships him and as long as she keeps getting his cock well she obeys & does what he wants. I never knew she was capable of being hooked on sex & she said she was not attracted to black men at all. It only took one experience to get her addicted & I am now watching her do the same thing that so many females I've known have done...Serve black cock. I am accepting & want to be a cuckold or be put in my place now.

Female ejaculation.

LOTS OF IT!!!!!!!

The Freudian Slip
An erotic, mostly true story (names omitted) of finding the love of my life.

It was my first marriage, but she already had a child when she was a teen. I met her when I was 35, she was 33 and her daughter was 18. She dedicated her life to her daughter and finally when her daughter turned 18, she decided it was time to slow down and find someone special. The honeymoon didn’t last that long in our marriage. I was always ‘too sexual’ for her, always ‘groping her inappropriately’. The final straw was when I found some emails and a text message about how she liked sucking on his dick before he stuck it in her ass. I was a broken man for a long time. I invested myself into my ex-wife 1000%. Her daughter was very beautiful, and I never even once hit on her, or made any moves.
After much therapy, I came out the other end ok. It’s been 15 years and I’m 50 years old now. Sometimes I’ll have anxiety, so I’ll go through my insurance and find a therapist or counselor. My insurance recommended a woman and I called to make an appointment. It took about a week, but the day came and I went to her office and low and behold it was my ex’s daughter (step daughter). She was a bit shocked to see me. She said she saw my name but she was sure it was someone else. She had beautiful long brown hair, nice hourglass figure, brown eyes and soft supple breasts seemingly not strapped in by a bra. She blushed, she knew I was looking.
“It’s been a long long time, dad. What have you been up to? What do you want to talk about today?”
“Well I don’t know how this works, perhaps this is a conflict of interest – because sometimes I think I have PTSD because of what happened between you and your mother. I’ve been ok I guess. Well obviously not perfect, because I’m here…”
“Oh, tell me more…” She said, looking me in the eyes. I shied away, looking down at the floor.
“Don’t be nervous, you can tell me anything.”
“I’ve never been married since your mother left me, I just didn’t want to be hurt again. I feel my life is just bland but I also don’t want to go through the physical and mental pain again.”
“Physical pain?” she asked.
“Depression, when I’m depressed my body aches horribly.”
“Understandable. So I’ll be honest with you, when I moved out and after she did that to you I broke contact with her,” she said still looking at me in the eyes, she smiled, “she ruined her own life to be honest, and she did her best to ruin yours too.”
I looked at her confused, “what do you mean she ruined her life?”
“Take a deep breath, dad.” She laughed, “Can I call you that?”
“Yes, of course. You never got to know your own biological father, so of course you can call me dad.”
“Good, we’re on a Freudian path” she laughed, then continued, “Dad listen, the guy she left you for had her hooked on some bad things. I was away at school and she was smoking meth and crack. The last time I saw her she was at a clinic and had track marks all up and down her legs from heroin usage. You dodged a bullet. She’s tested positive for HIV, and a bunch of STDs – probably from whoring herself out to get drugs. So I couldn’t handle being around her anymore so I cut ties with her. And I found it awful that she did that to you. You were always so nice to her, to me. You expressed your love in so many ways and she shit all over you. I looked up to you, always thinking that when I find a guy or girl that I’d want someone like you. Hell, when my mom met you I had a major crush on you. In a lot of ways I wish you would have kept in contact but I do understand the emotional trauma of what she did pushed you away. I did kind of stalk you, you’re pretty easy to find on Google, so I kept track of you but kept my distance because I didn’t want to remind you of the trauma mom had caused you and me too.”
I didn’t know what to say, it was a lot to take in.
“I just don’t know what to say, that’s horrible what happened to her,” I said, feeling a little bit of peace that the bitch was getting dragged through the sewer like the cunt she was.
She put a hand on mine, “It’s ok dad. You probably feel a lot of rage and anger and that’s why you’re here.”
I looked into her eyes and I melted. She absolutely was putting on the moves.
“Tell you what,” she said, “My last appointment is at 7:30 PM, so why don’t we catch up over some coffee? You’re a coffee drinker, right?”
“Uh, yeah absolutely.”
So I made plans to meet her after she got off at a well-known coffee shop (Starbucks). I was a bit worried that I was taking her kindness wrong, that I was mistaking it for being interested in me.
I got her cell number and left.
On my way to Starbucks she texted me, “What kind of coffee do you want? Already here – I got this round!”
So I texted her I just wanted the house coffee with cream and sugar.
She was sitting at a table with her laptop and I approached her and sat down.
She looked up and smiled, and then gestured around her, “look at all of these nosey people who can’t mind their own business when an attractive looking man sits down near a younger professional female. That’s human psychology, always judging, always making shit up in people’s heads.”
I laughed, “well, they have dirty minds then – forget them. How have you been all these years? You look absolutely stunning, and I’m not saying that out of turn – just letting you know you’ve grown into a very fine woman!”
She blushed, “And how does that line go…” she thought for a second, “you sir, have aged like a fine wine.”
I laughed, “you’re totally hitting on me.”
“I’ve got daddy issues, daddy. Seriously, my mother doesn’t know who she lost. I’ll be honest, I’d take pictures of you and masturbate to them, I had such a huge crush on you. You’d get my panties soaked just by giving me a hug, and well – just being around me, can confirm, you still do.”
My anxiety started to kick in, “is this a joke?”
“Absolutely not. I was so jealous of my mother, I wanted you so bad.”
My dick was getting hard.
“Yeah but you probably have someone special now, and I don’t want you to be unfaithful to them.”
“No, I’ve had a few girlfriends, but nothing serious at all. I’m a single girl enjoying my freedom. I didn’t charge you for the session today. I won’t ever charge you, ok?”
“So you’re a lesbian?” I asked.
“No, I swing both ways,” she laughed and spilled a little bit of her coffee.
“Yeah but I was your father for a few years and …”
“That’s what makes it so hot, you literally are my Freudian sexual fantasy, that step dad that every girl wants to fuck but never gets to fuck and here you are… and well, perhaps this pussy still has a chance?”
I was done talking, I haven’t had sex in years, “It absolutely does.”
We went back to my place, I was nervous as hell.
She unzipped my pants and pulled my cock out, “mom lied, she said you had an ugly little dick – this is a thick monster.”
Her lips wrapped around the head and she started sucking. I felt her open her mouth wider and I was in the back of her throat.
She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled her bra off revealing her beautiful breasts, looking up into my eyes as she continued to suck me.
“Daddy, I want you to be bad….” I pulled my shirt off, she caressed my chest and her lips stopped sucking, and she kissed me on the lips, and then let her tongue work its way back down to my throbbing cock. She pushed me down on the sofa, and started going to town on my dick with a passion I’ve never seen before. With her mouth full of my throbbing meat, she’d moan. I felt like I was going to cum, and pulled her head off of my dick.
“Mmmm, daddy likes my mouth,” she said erotically, “wait until daddy’s dick get’s a taste of his daughter’s tight little pussy…”
“You’re a bad girl,” I whispered to her.
“You have no idea daddy, I’ve been a very bad girl.” She moved her naked body across mine, I could feel her soft warm breasts gliding on my skin. Her mouth enveloped mine, her tongue jutting inside my mouth and I could taste her sweet saliva. Her hips swiveled, teasing the head of my cock with her dripping wet pussy. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“Mommy never wanted me to have a dick this good, daddy,” she said as she pushed down on my cock, taking all of me inside her wet, tight hole.
“Make me a good girl, daddy I’ve been so fucking bad!”
I smacked her ass with my hand hard, “Watch your mouth, you know better than to swear around me!”
“Oh yess daddy! I’m so sorry daddy, it’s just that your dick feels so fucking good in me.”
I spanked her again, even harder as her pussy massaged my cock. I grabbed her beautiful tits and licked her nipples. I felt her body tense up, her pussy locked on to my cock – all of her muscles tightened and she let out a scream and began bucking wildly.
“Oh fuck daddy, daddddy your cock is so good I’m cumming.”
I felt a flow of warmth dripping down my balls as she collapsed on top of me.
I held her tightly and kissed her forehead as she panted, I could feel her pussy muscles convulsing in pleasure around my hard dick.
She whispered, “daddy, I always wanted to taste your cum…”
She got up and knelt between my legs and started stroking my cock, then licking it with her tongue.
Her lips gently kissed the tip of my penis, and then she swallowed it. I could feel my balls tightening up, and she cupped them in one hand and stroked my cock with the other as she blew me.
I called her name, “I’m going to cum.”
She didn’t relent, she quickened her pace, sucking harder, stroking faster. I emptied my balls in her mouth. Pulsating over and over, cum sprayed into her warm wanting mouth. I could feel her gulping down each ejaculation as I lost complete control of my body. I grabbed her head and pulled her lips down to the base of my cock and kept coming in the back of her throat. She swallowed it all.
We decided to date, and after a few years we tied the knot. Some people might be wondering about the legalities, but I never legally adopted her. My ex-wife and I were only married for about 3 years. My “stepdaughter” moved out when she was 19, almost 20 – but she always treated me with respect and we were pretty good friends. The last we heard, my ex moved to another state, and she might have passed on from a drug overdose. Neither my new wife, nor I want to research it or find out. I guess that's what prompted me to write it on Motherless. She's Motherless - and has been for a long time it seems.
Anyhow: That’s how I met my second wife. We have a lot of fun, and we’re extremely in love and she’s pregnant now. She’s due in 3 months! Everything happens for a reason. Sometimes you have to walk through fire – but understand that things will eventually get better, it just might take some time.
No, that picture isn’t her – I chose it because it looks like her (so much so that it could be her twin lol).
We still do daddy daughter role playing! I’m also ok with her having some fun with women if she wants but she chooses not to.
“You fulfill my fantasies, daddy.”
Real? Fake? I don't really care if anyone believes it - I just needed to vent.
Peace.

        I don’t even know where to begin.. this is something that happened earlier this year and I’ve only told one person about it so trying to write it all out to understand my feelings. I guess I’ll give you a little background I’m 23 pretty average life I guess I work at a popular retail store and live with my boyfriend. That same store is where I meet my boyfriend Ryan (not gonna use real names) over a year ago. Everything in the relationship is great and refreshing especially compared to the shit I went thru with my ex. But still like most things in my life I managed to messed this up too.        Josh got hired and started working in the back in like the warehouse area where my boyfriend worked at the time. I would find excuses to go back there and see my bf even though he was busy most the time. Josh stood out right away, he was older but also super tall like I guess maybe 6’4 and he just looked kinda mean we’ll I guess intimidating would be a better way of putting it.           At first he ignored me but soon he would make little comments, like oh you’ve come to see me or hey where’s mine you gotta feed me too, when I would bring my bf some snack or lunch. His eyes were different though, he would make the most intense eye contact with me and I felt like I was going to melt right there and then.           Anyways it’s a long story but I guess that should be enough background or at least that’s the most I wanna share on it. His comments and flirting started to get more blunt even in front of my bf. My boyfriend was still really nice to this guy even though he was a jerk to most people, he would give him a ride home almost every night even though it was out of his way. Well one night my bfs car was having trouble so I went to pick him up and guess who still asked for a ride home that night too 🙄 that whole car ride I felt nervous like I guess butterfly type feeling in my stomach and my words were mush like I know I must not of been making sense. Anyways we dropped him off and went on to have a fun night back at his apartment.       Well the next day my bf was off but I had to work and was clocking out for the day when Josh came up to me and asked for a ride home. He said his aunt was having an emergency and he had to get there asap but couldn’t find anyone else to give him a ride. I felt a pit in my stomach but for some reason kinda like flattered to that he would ask me and I’m honestly the type that tries to always help if I can so I thought whatever no biggie it’s just a ride so I take him home. The whole care ride I felt ancy like I have some nervous habits and tics from childhood and I know I must’ve been showing them a lot cause I felt kinda off.Once I was at his place he said come inside he needed to make some more calls and might need a ride to the emergency room. Again my gut was telling me I probably shouldn’t of gone inside but I felt in control and I wanted to help if he did need another ride.        Inside his place he told me to sit and wait on the couch in the living room cause he was going to make some phone calls in his bedroom. I sat and waited and then when he came back, he had changed he put on I guess these athletic pants but to me they looked like tights and he had a noticeable huge bulge sticking out the front he also had a tank top on. At this point I felt nervous and got up I all of a sudden was picturing my boyfriend and I felt super light headed and dizzy. I started mumbling words and kinda stumbling towards the front door and he stepped in front of me put his hands on my hips and pulled me into him for a kiss. My head was spinning even faster but I was also getting turned on, I had always noticed his sexy hands, it’s one of the first thing I check out and his were huge and always veiny so feeling them squeeze all over my body was making my body respond. I tried to kinda push off him cause I knew what I was doing was wrong and felt so overwhelmed but I felt frozen too. He was very physical right away, he started by grabbing my wrist and wrapped my hand around his cock. Besides the huge size the thing I actually immediately noticed and was scared at how hard it was, it felt like cement.The first words he spoke to me was to say in a deep voice I haven’t been able to get out of my head since, “why are you trembling baby” and pushed me back down on the couch we had been sitting at before. Before I could speak another word he had pulled his cock out of his pants and pushed it into my mouth. Right away my jaw hurt at how much I had to open up my mouth to accommodate his size I also was having a hard time breathing and started to choke. You would think this was a bad thing but I actually strangely enjoy that choking feeling and was getting wet at how demanding of my mouth he was. He started to say much more at this point. He said he could tell how much I wanted him cause my eyes were stuck on him like glue but I always looked away and pretended they weren’t. He also said and made me say much more degrading things especially about my boyfriend. But that was later on. At this point he was still in my mouth but I could feel myself getting wet. I felt a combination of scared, guilty, overwhelmed but also very encaptured by the moment. He pulled down my pants but kept on my socks and shoes. He started to rub my clit in little circles. My breathing was basically hyperventilating at this point but he kept having me repeat things he told me back to him and then finally made me repeat and admit I wanted him inside of me, I wanted him to take me. At this point I lost it. Tears started to form and I knew i was going to lose it but instead of losing it on him I gave in. I lost on myself. I said yes. I cried out and admitted he was right I wanted him, I wanted him to have me.  He pushed in and my immediate reaction was to pull away. I was wet but he was so thick and hard it felt like I was going to tear just from his head. He had an evil laugh and seemed to like that I pulled away, he told me he was expecting that. He spit all over and eventually put his heavy cock inside of me.       I immediately felt a tightness and fullness I hadn’t really experienced before. I also felt like I had to pee BAD. I felt so overwhelmed and repressed I was freaking out. He kept talking to me and kept making me speak even though I felt like I couldn’t control what was coming out of my mouth it was just mush. “It feels like you’re splitting me open” is all I was able to manage at first until I had my first earth shattering headache inducing body shaking orgasm on his dick. I was making a mess of everything, what looked like some sort of female ejaculation as the best way I can describe it was shooting out of my vagina, I don’t know if it was pee or squirting or what but it made a mess everywhere.      I never felt more self conscious. He continued to have his way with me. In a bunch of different positions. I felt like a rag doll with him. He seemed into making me do things he must’ve seen in porn a lot cause he kept making me lay on my belly and reach back and grab my toes and also had his hands in and around my mouth a ton. He kept taking his two big fingers and putting them in the insides of my cheeks and just gripping me and moving me around by my face.The whole situation felt like a blackout and fast forward to today and I still feel just as mixed up. Still with my boyfriend and tried to move on but there’s a part of me that replays that day a ton and now it’s starting to happen even when I’m with my man. That’s why I’m writing here I guess to say my story, admit and realize I do have this kink and to just and sort it all out 😩💁‍♀️XO