“Sorry, kiddo, but there’s a ‘no kids allowed’ rule at this party,” said my dad shaking his head, almost managing to look like he was truly upset on my behalf. “Not my rule, it’s Jim and Gina’s, it’s an adults only kind of thing.”
“I see,” I replied, raising an eyebrow slightly and crossing my under over my breasts. “And the fact that I am 19 now means what, exactly? When do I get to lose this ‘kid’ status?”
My dad smiled at me. He was a tall, broad, good looking guy. Perhaps there was a bit too much grey in his hair, perhaps he didn’t exactly sport the Adonis body type, but when he smiled it lit up his whole face, the whole room, and it made you feel wanted and loved. As he got older he developed a few more lines around his big brown eyes, but these were just the well-worn grooves made from flashing his trademark easy goofy grin at everyone and everything. Everyone loved my dad, and so did I, even though it was not exactly cool for a 19 year old girl to still love her father. He was just such a big, kind teddy bear who always made me feel the most important person in the world.
“When you turn 60, have grand-kids, use a walker to move around and put your teeth in the glass next to your bed. Then maybe, and I mean MAYBE, I may just stop thinking of you as my little girl in pink dresses and pigtails. Besides, this is just going to be a stuffy group of stuffy old people talking about stuffy old people stuff. Hell, I probably wouldn’t go, if your mom wasn’t insisting.”
Across the room, my mom snorted. “Dear, it’s been all you’ve been talking about for weeks. These are mostly your friends, so please don’t make me the ogre in your little fantasies, please.” My mom was completely the opposite of my dad. We got on by mostly avoiding each other. While I have inherited my dad’s quick sense of humour and optimistic view on life, I inherited my looks from my mom. We had similar black, thick hair, although I usually cut mine short compared to her long glossy mane, framing our heart-shaped, pale, flawless faces. Our eyes were both hazel, with mine perhaps having a few more flecks of green in them. Our bodies too were very similar, taking from all the women from her side of the family being busty with wide hips, with a thin waist. My breasts were a little larger than hers, reaching more towards the D-cup, while hers is upper-C. While we look the same, she has a cold, clinical take on the world. She usually only smiles when she is going in for the kill, about to make the killer point in an argument, or needing to put on a happy calming face to lull you into a false sense of security. No surprise that she’s a lawyer and a pretty ruthless one by all accounts. She treats my dad like a big child, and I think he likes someone who can bring a little order to his otherwise chaotic life.
My dad reacted to his wife’s accusation by looking overly hurt. “My dear lady, you wound me with your libellous comments! I am sure that it was you that insisted on going to this party, not poor defenceless self!”
Mom sniffed and looked back to the papers she had been reading. “It’s only libel if it is written. It was more like slander. Never mind, we’ll just stay at home then, if the thought of attending offends you too much.”
“Now, now, let’s not be too hasty,” said my dad, raising his hands defensively. “We’ve already bought our costumes, and it would be a shame to waste them. Especially yours!” He stepped in and kissed her on the head, then looked up at me waggling his eyebrows. I wondered what costume she was going to wear, to cause this reaction? Mom just muttered, “M’hmm,” and kept reading.
“Nice try dad, but you have been raving over this party for weeks now. It is certainly going to be your scene, so don’t you try to hide behind mom.”
“Et tu, Brute?” said dad, with a grin. “Anyways, we will have some dinner there, so feel free to fix yourself whatever. We won’t need a lift, we’ll walk home when we are done, as it’s only a few blocks. Don’t stay up late, otherwise you might see your mother a little worse for wear due to…” He made a drinking motion with one hand.
“Out,” said mom, pointing to the door. I need to go over this work for Monday, and if I’m to go to this party tonight I will need to work now in some peace and quiet. Out!”
“C’mon, kiddo. We know when we’re not wanted. Let’s eat some ice cream for lunch.”
“And no ice cream!” shot mom from the room as we left. We grinned to each other and headed out. My dad was a dork, but he was my dork.
The afternoon wore on, and drifted slowly into evening. We even managed to sneak some ice cream when mom was still working. Dad finally ducked off to the bedroom to change into his costume. Mom kept at her work, occasionally rubbing at her temples.
“You okay, mom? You look tired.”
“I am tired. This whole case is a legal bird’s nest, all mixed up all over the place. It falls smack-bang between a few different laws, without actually hitting any directly. It’s going to be a tough fight. And it is giving me a pretty bad headache.”
“You are still going to the party, though, right? I mean, it would kill dad if you couldn’t go.”
“Yes, yes, I’ll still go to his silly party.”
Dad chose that moment to come in, dressed in his costume. He was a jester, all black-and white with bells on his hat, pom-poms down his front and a sad-face mask covering his face. The costume looked detailed, and quite fantastic.
“Nice, dad! Although why did you go with a sad face? I thought a happy face would be your thing.”
“Indeed it would,” he said, removing his mask, putting it in a hidden pocket, then pulling out another to take its place. This one had a broad grin on it.
“Nice! So you can swap them all night and keep people guessing!”
“That’s the plan!” I just knew his real face was grinning widely under the mask’s frozen smile as he postured grandly.
“Well, I am going to be a little longer here, so we may end up a bit late. I should be about an hour,” said my mom. Dad took off his mask, his face stony as he replaced the sad-face. “Don’t you look at me like that,” mom shot at the mask, “I said I would be there and I will. Why don’t you head over there early and get things started, I’ll be in later.”
Dad whipped off his mask, he was grinning again, and kissed mom on the cheek. “Okay, if that’s what you want. I’ll see you soon there, okay?” And with that he cavorted madly out of the house. I couldn’t believe he was walking to the party like that.
I went into the kitchen and made myself a sandwich for an early dinner. I couldn’t be bothered making a complex meal for just myself. I ate, cleared up, and then went in to remind mom about the party and ask if she was hungry. She wasn’t behind her desk, the papers were scattered across its surface in piles that probably meant something to mom. The phone rang, and I answered it.
“Hi, kiddo, it’s the courtly jester himself here. Has your mom left yet?”
“I don’t think so; I think she’s just getting dressed.” I walked down the hall and nudged open her bedroom door. Mom was sprawled out on the bed, still dressed, one arm draped over her eyes. “Uh, hang on, dad.” I stepped up to her lightly, covering the mouthpiece of the phone to make sure dad couldn’t hear, and I nudged mom, shaking her slightly, calling out to her. There was no response. And then I saw the bottle of pills beside the bed. It was open, the protective cotton wool out, and a mostly drunk glass of water was next to it. Mom was floating on the Valium clouds, again. There was no way that she’d be able to wake up enough to go to the party now. Hell, she probably wouldn’t wake up if someone was chopping off her leg with a blunt saw. Dad was going to be disappointed as hell, he was really looking forward to mom and him going to this do together, and now she was going to break his heart. And typically she left me to break the news. “Uh, dad?” I bit my lip, wondering what to say.
“Yeah, kiddo, still here. Is the lovely lass I married going to be here soon? The party is really livening up, I would love her here warming my side!”
I glanced around the room, not knowing where to begin. Then my eyes alighted onto mom’s costume. It was black, and shiny, and by the looks of the mask on the hook above it, it was a Catwoman’s outfit. I suddenly had an inspiration.
“Sure dad, she’s just getting dressed now. She should be ready pretty soon I think, and then I’ll hustle her over straight away!”
“Thanks, kiddo. Remember, no wild parties for you tonight! Maybe a semi-wild one would be okay, though… but remember to keep at least one piece of clothing on at all times.” And with that he was gone.
So tonight, I was going to go in two costumes. The first would be as Catwoman, and the second as mom! As I bit my lip I thought, “I could do this”. I would just pretend to be her, right up until midnight, when we threw off our masks, and wouldn’t dad be surprised!
I ran my fingers along the costume. There didn’t seem to be enough to cover all of me… ah well. I would find out soon. I took the clothes to my room, as I felt weird undressing in front of my unconscious mom. I stripped off, and pulled on the costume. There was a top that left a good deal of my stomach exposed, and a pair of pants that clung to me like a second skin. It was tight, and it was sexy, although I could easily see my bra and panty-line through the tight, black shiny material. I sighed, took off the costume, then my underwear, and replaced the costume. The top was so tight that you could easily see the outlines of my nipples through the material. It was meant for my mom’s slightly smaller chest. I hoped no one would notice them being slightly larger than those designed to be contained within these black, tight confines. The pants meant you could easily see the lines of my ass, and unfortunately you could see a slight uneven bump where my pubic hairs were. I have no idea how mom planned to combat this, probably with a thong I assumed. I briefly considered going through her underwear draw to see, but the thought of wearing mom’s thong was too icky, so rejected the idea. I almost gave up then and there, but the thought of my dad disappointed by mom after I told him everything would be fine flashed through my mind.
Then I had an idea. A naughty idea, which I had to carry out quickly, before I lost my nerve. I stripped off again, and ducked into the bathroom. I grabbed a pair of scissors, took a deep breath, then went to town on my admittedly bushy pubic region. When I had felled the forest into mere stubble, I grabbed my shaving cream and razor I had just used on my legs this morning, and rubbed the cream over the stiff stubble in. It felt nice as my fingers brushed over my mound, I hadn’t been touched there for about 6 months by anyone else, not since my last boyfriend, whom I lost my virginity to, dumped me for being too demanding. Most of that was to do with sex — he couldn’t keep up with me. I must admit I had become a bit of an animal for a while there, jumping him at every opportunity. He became stressed at having to perform so often and ran off to find someone with a normal sexual appetite. Since then I just hadn’t found anyone else.
I snapped myself out of my thoughts, and began to run the razor over my mound in short, even strokes. It was hard to see down there, over my boobs, and I had to flatten them with the other hand, one leg bent awkwardly as I tried to see what I was doing. Soon I was hair-free, for the first time since puberty. I ran my hand over my smooth skin, and shuddered at the feeling. I now knew why some women do this, the sensitivity was amazing. If I had more time I would have tried it out with my buzzing pink friend resting in the drawer by my bed, but dad was waiting. I pulled on the costume and stared at myself in the mirror. I knew guys stared at my body, most of them were none too subtle about it, but in this expertly crafted costume accentuated all of my already curvaceous body in a way that made me shiver. Could I pass for mom, though?
The answer was no because of my damned hair. Mom had long black hair, and mine was short. The mask would cover most of it, but the lack of hair peeking out the bottom would be suspicious. I bit my lip and thought, finally having a stroke of genius. A couple of years ago my mom burned her hair, leaning over a birthday cake, blowing out the candles. It was pretty bad; while she wasn’t hurt her hair was a mess. Now, mom was too vain to have it cut really short, so for a month or so she wore a wig, until it had grown back enough to be shown in public again. The wig was expensive, matched her current hair perfectly, and was now lying forgotten in her closet. I ran in, grabbed it, checked that mom was still dead to the world, then paused, noticing a pair of thigh-high black shoes in the corner, with some killer heels. Obviously this was part of the costume, as was the riding crop, and gloves with sharp-looking talons lying next to them. I had never thought of mom dressing this risqué before! I grabbed them and dashed back to my room, pulling them on, praying they would fit. And fit they did, like they were made for me. I took a few trial steps around the room, these heels were a little higher than I was used to but I could handle them.
I caught a look at myself in the mirror and saw a sexy strange woman there who I didn’t recognise. The heels made her look tall, her ass stick out, her boobs lift up. The mask hid most of her head, except for her chin and lips. She was shiny, sexy, and all but nude. Just wearing this costume made me feel like sex on legs, and I began to feel the familiar tingle of my horniness begin to switch on. I tried to dismiss it, as I was just going to see dad and his cronies at a party, but I looked and felt amazing. I ran the riding crop along my ass and thigh, relishing the naughty look of it all. I quickly touched up the costume by applying some red lipstick, and some dark eyeliner and I was ready to go. To the party. Three blocks away.
Was I really going to walk to the party dressed like this, looking almost naked? Hell, was I ready to walk around a party looking like this, leaving nothing to the imagination of the dirty old men there? Why the hell did I think I could do this?
The phone rang again, startling me. I pounced on it, fumbled it and answered it, a little flustered and feeling slightly shameful at what I was answering it in, for some stupid reason.
It was dad again. “Just after an update about your mom. Still coming?”
I took a breath. I pictured dad devastated by mom not turning up, then pictured him delighted at the joke I would pull on him when I removed my mask at the stroke of midnight. I could do it, for him. After all, he has done so much for me in the past.
“Sure dad, she took ages getting ready. You know her. She just left, and should be there soon.”
“Excellent! I haven’t seen her in her costume yet, and I can’t wait to see it! Rrrrrrowl!”
“Dad. Your daughter here. Gross.” If only he knew, I thought, arms covering my chest protectively.
“Anywho, catch you on the flipside!”
“Night dad.” Well, there was no getting out of it now! I strutted over to the booze cupboard, and poured myself three shots of vodka, shooting them one after the other. If I was going to do this, I needed some liquid courage. I walked to the door. I gripped the handle. I took a deep breath. I grabbed mom’s handbag to hold my keys, lipstick and wallet. I opened the door and stepped out into the world looking like sex on legs. I waited a couple of minutes to make sure there would be no screams or accusations of indecency, but there was nothing but the evening birds, preparing to sleep. I could do this!
I walked partway down the road, stopped, rushed back and grabbed the riding crop. So much for a dramatic exit!
I clicked my way along the footpath, my heels loud on the concrete. My wig itched slightly, and my mask felt odd covering my head, but that was not the worst of it. Every step had the skin-tight pants sliding back and forth over my unprotected pussy, which felt strange and wrong now that it was freshly shaved. At first it was uncomfortable, but soon, with the liquor beginning to course through my head, it began to feel nice. Really nice. A car honked going past, and a couple of young guys waved enthusiastically, flipping me the thumbs up. I just smiled and kept walking. I felt sexy, and soon I began to also feel aroused. When I got to this party I decided I should probably spend most of it sitting down, so I wouldn’t ruin the material between the legs with the moisture I could already feel building within me. I felt my skin prickling with goosebumps under the thin material, for more reasons than the cold air on this autumn day.
Finally I made my way to the house, a couple of sad balloons handing out the front as a form of invitation to come inside. I sighed, hoping tonight wouldn’t be boring. I walked up to the door, and opened it, and was immediately awash with a party in full swing. The music was pumping, although it was a little out-dated, and the lights were dimmed. People were crowded in, drinking, dancing, chatting, moving as a mass of kaleidoscopic bodies. There were even a couple of people on the couch making out, not what I expected from a parents’ party at all! The air was abuzz with laughter and merrymaking, the party had a great feel to it, not unlike those thrown by people my own age. Ducking between animals, princesses, pirates and ghosts, all in varying quality of costume, I had to admit, some of them looked great showing off some older bodies that had held up pretty well. There were some sexy nurses, a muscular Tarzan, a dominatrix in a top-hat. I was getting some pretty damn appreciative glances, but at least I didn’t feel too over-dressed.
My alcohol-fuelled buzz was in full-flight now, and it gave me to the confidence to walk about looking sexy and confident. Remembering that I was supposed to be mom, I strode about like I owned the place, and damn anyone who got in my way. Exchanging simple pleasantries, I wasn’t sure who most people were in their masks, but I talked, keeping it brief as I stalked from room to room, past fancifully dressed bodies, inquiring about the jester. I felt a few people rub up against me, and I felt more than one hand brush over my tight ass, and I suspect that at least one of those times it was a woman. Soon I was directed to the kitchen, which was slightly better lit. I was met by the scene of my father, the jester, making punch while regaling a rapt audience about an accident he had last winter, slipping on ice outside our house. He had made a complete fool of himself and was rushed to the hospital with a bruised coccyx, but he was such the master storyteller that everyone was laughing along with him, rather than at him.
Finally his eyes settled on me. He made a show of slowly looking me up and down, his eyes glittering, behind the sad face mask. He ducked into the pantry, fumbled about, then leapt out, hands out in a ‘ta-da’ kinda way, his mask now the smiling one. People clapped, and so did I, although lightly (I was meant to be my mother). He danced his way over to me and hugged me.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it!” he said.
“I said I would, didn’t I?” I replied, keeping my voice deliberately husky. Hopefully he would think I was trying to keep in character.
“Indeed you did!” he said, hugging me again, his hand for one awkward moment squeezing my ass. “So let the party begin!”
There were cheers and raised glasses. My dad realised I hadn’t got one, so he scrambled to grab me a glass of champagne. Now, normally I don’t drink champagne as it goes straight to my head, and I get a bit silly. But I was supposed to be mom, and she drinks champagne. I began sipping it, and found that I quite enjoyed it. For some reason it was soon empty, and was somehow refilled again. I hung on dad’s arm, pretending to be his wife. We chatted, joked and had a great time with the people around us. Dad occasionally shot me looks, which I took to be questioning under his mask whenever I was acting too nice. At one stage he pulled me into the corner and pushed his mask against my ear, saying over the music, “What’s gotten into you? You really seem to be letting yourself go! I like it.”
“What can I say?” I replied, thinking desperately of something that I could say. “You were right, this is a fantastic party, and I am with a fantastic guy!” I could tell by the way his jawline lifted behind the mask he had his usual goofy grin. He glanced about, and then leaned in. I thought he was going to whisper something else, but he lifted the mask, and kissed me on the lips. I was a little shocked, but the alcohol blunted any objections I could have. A small rebellious part of my brain, the part that had become increasingly aroused during the night, pointed out that a guy was kissing me, pressing against me. I shut that thought down as dad broke the kiss and leaned back, re-adjusting the mask back on his face.
He said, “Thanks for making the effort, dear,” the danced a little jig and whirled me onto the dance floor. I danced with him, in a wild fashion, really letting myself go. There were more champagne glasses, sometimes full, sometimes empty, although I never really remembered drinking any. I danced with dad, I danced with other guys, other girls. I flirted like crazy, playing the sex-vixen to the hilt, not caring that I was still meant to be playing my mom. Whoever chose the music chose it so it was lively and pumping, and soon I was exhausted. I left the dance floor, saw my dad dancing with what looked like an extremely overweight chorus-girl, having the time of his life, so I ducked out the back door, to get some air.
There were a group of people outside, sitting in a circle around an open fire in a pit. They were smoking and drinking. A couple of them had taken their masks off. This was the cruise-y part of the party, I decided. I sat down, and joined in the conversation, enjoying the mellow chats. There was an odd scent in the air, and I realised what it was when someone handed me a joint. Now, I have tried marijuana before, but it felt weird having it handed to you by a guy who must have been 50 in most of a gorilla suit. Still, my night had been all about taking risks, so I brought it gingerly to my lips, and inhaled deeply. I held it in as long as I could, then coughed loudly, to a couple of chuckles around the fire. I passed on the joint, and settled back as the fuzz began to wash over me. My body started to feel heavy while it was moving, though light when it was still. My eyelids felt rough, like there was not enough moisture on my eyeballs, and my tongue felt big in my mouth. I could feel where the costume rubbed against my nipples and my crotch, and the sensations set my skin on fire. I briefly considered going to the toilets to masturbate, but rejected the idea, but only because I felt so damn comfortable in this deck chair. When I got home, I was going to wear out some batteries in my little friend, I could tell you. I took off my boots as my feet hurt from walking and dancing in the high heels, and placed them down next to my chair. A woman dressed like a Valkyrie rubbed my feet, throwing me some knowing looks. It felt wonderful.
Soon I felt ravenous, so I left the group, and entered the house again, leaving my boots and riding crop behind. I wolfed down some snack ravenously, and chatted to the people I found in the kitchen. Suddenly dad was there, and I kissed him briefly on the lips, flinging my arms around his neck and giggling about it. He just stood there, head on the side, His face was hidden by the maniacal grin of the mask still. I preferred my dad’s smile, I thought, and reached up to draw my thumb along the line of this false grin, nowhere near as sincere as dads’, as my fingers brushed his jawline. He took hold of my hand and pressed it against the mask, where his lips would be, and I just stared at the mask, marveling at the details, almost picturing it moving in my drugged state. He glanced about the room, and then began to drag me unresistingly along, still holding my hand, out into the corridor. I grabbed a glass of champagne along the way. I marveled at the fact it had a strawberry in it, as red as my lips, before drinking it and briefly wondering whose it was.
He pushed opened a door, I presume to a bedroom, but was met with the sounds of groans, moans and of skin slapping against skin. He shut the door quickly, glanced back at me, and dragged me further down the corridor. There were people having sex in there, I suddenly realised. I lustfully wanted to go back and see for myself, but dad was leading me into another room, shutting the door behind us.
I could see in the dim light of the moon peeking through the open curtains that there were coat-racks installed on the back of the door, overflowing with coats, and there were a couple of clean desks with computers, and files. A study I guess, currently being used as a coat-room. Dad pressed me against the soft layer of coats on the back of the door and ran his hands along my face. He tore off his mask and dropped it to the floor. I couldn’t see his face properly in the dark room as it was silhouetted against the windows, and I briefly wondered what his expression was. I reached up and stroked his cheek at the thought. He pressed his whole body against mine and began to kiss me passionately. ‘I am pretending to be mom!’ the booze and the drugs helped me to think. ‘So I had better do it right!’ I reached around him and returned the kiss. My mouth opened and his tongue entered mine, and I groaned into his mouth. I couldn’t remember how long I had been waiting to have another guy pressed against me. I forgot who this one was in the fog that clouded my thought, and one of my legs wrapped around behind him, drawing him closer to me. His hands explored my hips, my sides, reaching up and grasping my breasts. It felt great, and I broke the kiss to groan and take some deeper breaths. I muffled a giggle as I hoped dad did not feel that my boobs were bigger than mom’s.
Dad’s hands continued to explore my body over the tight material. One part of my brain kept telling me I was pretending that I was mom, so it was okay, and another, disjoint part just registered that someone was touching me, and it felt damn good. His hands slid up my thighs, and up over my pants tracing over my naked ribs. It tickled, but felt nice too. His hands paused there, and then they lowered, his thumbs hooking into my tight pants, and slid them down past my knees, him going down into a squat to full them further.
He slid them down and off of my feet, lifting one foot at a time by holding my ankles. I was now naked from the waist down in front of my dad. Even in my drug and alcohol-fuelled haze I realised that this was going a bit too far. I needed to stop this now, before it got further out of hand. I opened my mouth to do just that, but snapped it shut with a yelp as I felt my dad’s lips press over my over-sensitive shaved pussy. It had been aroused by the feel of the material, the feeling of sexiness in the air, and it was all too much. At once I had a mini-orgasm, my whole body trembling as I felt electricity jolt through my body. My mouth stretched wide, but no sound came out. My hands flailed uselessly in the air above his head, his mouth and tongue still working on me. The feeling of a mouth on my shaved pussy lips was too much to bear, and it was so wrong that it was my dad making me feel like this that I finally managed to take hold of his head and pull it upwards, away from my aching sex.
Dad pulled up, pressing himself against me again, leaving my pussy bare and cool, and kissed me hungrily on the lips. I let him kiss me, breathing hard, trying to compose myself. He broke the kiss and I just settled back against the soft embrace of the coats, eyes closed, trying to get my brain back on track so I could decide what to do about this situation. My nipples were like diamonds against the slick material, a brush of my hand confirmed that they were overly sensitive, causing me to shiver. My pussy was soaking and throbbing. I wasn’t sure if it had forgiven me yet from stopping those wonderful sensations. I was afraid to touch it, as I had never felt this aroused before in my life.
Finally dad broke my thoughts by kissing me again. I had almost forgotten he was still here; I was so lost in my thoughts. One hand squeezed my breast, flicking the nipple, making me gasp into his mouth. His hands dropped to my waist, and just held me lightly. He started to lower himself again, and I gripped his waist tightly, pulling him to me to stop him from going all the way down again, but he only lowered himself a short amount before pausing, and that is when I felt it. I felt the tip of something hard press against my pussy entrance. It was my dad’s cock. He was about to have sex with me. My eyes sprang open, and I let out a little yelp of warning, but around the kiss it must have sounded more like a moan of pleasure.
The hard cock pressed up, splitting my pussy lips, the head of his cock pushing slowly inside of me. I was stunned, unable to move, to fight back, to stop him. All I could do was lay back against the coats on the door as my father began to move my hips back and forth, at each thrust delving slightly deeper into my wet opening. I had been turned on so much tonight that my body offered him little resistance, and soon I felt quite full. But then I realised that dad still hadn’t bottomed out yet, and he was still pushing further and further in. The one guy I had slept with before hadn’t had that much between his legs, and I had to break the kiss my father was still planting on me to gasp and my eyes to bulge as he finally bottomed out in me, deeper than I had ever felt before. I was so full, and my pussy walls involuntarily squeezed him. I was panicking slightly, and marvelling how great a big, long cock felt to be stretching me wide.
We stayed like this for what seemed like an age, but must have only been a minute. The part of me that was screaming that this was my dad was beginning to become lost within the cyclone of thought rushing through my brain, and the part that was responding sexually to the enormous rod buried inside of me was getting louder. My dad pulled back, his cock sliding out of me, and I felt the head passing out of my slit, and I let out a moan, partially from disappointment. But this was only so he could drive back inside of me again, and I had to bite his shoulder to prevent myself from crying out. He began to start a rhythm going, driving into me. This was no gentle lovemaking, this was raw fucking at its most primal. I felt my dad’s hot breath on my neck as he rammed into me over and over, and I found myself responding to his thrusts. My hips betrayed me, pushing back onto him to meet his thrusts, to feel him deeper, so much deeper within my body. One of my legs curled around him, pulling his ass closer to me. My other foot was on tip-toe to allow him easier access as he was taller than me. He was still wearing most of his costume, he had just unzipped down the front and the pompoms tickled my stomach and the bells jingled at each thrust. My hands pressed him into me, one hand entwined in his hair, the other on his ass as he thrust, thrust, thrust like a machine into my hot centre. His hands reached down and grabbed me, lifting me, pressing me into the coats, both my legs now gripping him, and I gasped as this position helped him drive deeper into me.
It had been so long, so very long since a cock had been buried inside of me, and even then it hadn’t felt this wonderful. I felt my orgasm build, starting from my very centre where our bodies connected, sending tendrils along my nerve endings until it reached every inch of my body. I tensed, feeling myself pausing on the brink for what seemed like an eternity, until the dam burst and I convulsed in my dad’s arms, squeezing him to me as I cried out in pleasure. My whole body shook, and dad continued to slide in and out of me, as my wet orgasm flowed down his cock. I finally came down from the heights of pleasure leaving me drained and hanging boneless in my dad’s arms. Now holding a dead weight, my dad lowered me until I could stand again, but only just as I was still shaky, and slid smoothly out of me, causing me to gasp and grip his shoulder. I reached up to kiss him gently, to thank him, but he just took my wrist and led me deeper into the room. I stumbled after him numbly, not really comprehending anything that was happening to me.
But dad had other plans and he pushed me face-first over a desk, so my ass hung up in the air. He moved in behind me, and I groaned and gripped the edge of the desk hard as his cock found my entrance once again and pushed deep inside of me. This position caused him to hit a different spot inside of me, and I started making incoherent noises as his hips slapped my ass over and over again, driving into me like a man possessed. It felt wonderful, and I no longer cared who this man was, as long as he didn’t stop slamming his wonderful cock into me.
He reached a large hand up my front, and lifted me up onto my hands, causing me to gasp as it changed the position he was reaching inside of me. His hand squeezed my breast, sliding down to grip the front of the shiny material, lifting it up and exposing my large chest to the cool air, my nipples already hard. He squeezed my bare breasts, pulling at my nipples, causing me to press my breasts harder into his hands. He was so big, so strong I was at his mercy as he drove into me with a reckless abandon, causing my eyes to roll up into my head due to the feelings of pleasure assaulting me.
Dad’s rhythm changed, and his breathing became shorter. He was going to cum in me. Thank god I was still on the pill, because I suddenly wanted, no, I NEEDED him to cream inside of me more than anything in the world. I was letting out little animal grunts and cries, impaling myself over and over onto him. Meeting each of his thrusts inside of me, squeezing his cock with my internal muscles.
Suddenly he slammed into me harder and deeper than he had before, and I cried out as he pressed into me as if he was trying to force his whole body inside of me, his hands squeezed my breasts almost painfully, and I felt him begin to spew his hot seed deep within me. This was too much for me, and I came for the second time that night, collapsing on the desk, crying out loudly onto its surface, feet lifting from the floor as my legs curled, not caring who heard me, not caring about anything except the fire that burned over every inch of me.
Finally the sensations faded and we were left gasping in the cold light of reality. I was crushed against a desk by my father, who was still buried cock-deep inside of me as our mixed juices leaked sluggishly down my leg. We began to regain our composure, and found that we could once again move. Dad slid out of me, causing us both to gasp as it stimulated our over-sensitive sexes, and I was left with a void deep inside of me. My pussy tingled, and my muscles ached as I slowly let my stiff fingers release the edge of the desk. It took me a while before I could muster the energy to try to stand up again, my legs; hell, my whole body were incredibly shaky. I groaned as I forced my abused body up, thankful that I wasn’t still wearing my boots, as I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to manage those heels right now.
Dad handed me some tissues he had found, and I thankfully took them and began cleaning myself up. I was struck by the unreality of it all, I was here dressed as Catwoman, cleaning my father’s spunk from between my legs. I shivered, and smiled slightly to myself, feeling strangely content. My dad kissed me, and murmured into my ear, “Damn, you’ve never been this hot before! Thank you. Clean yourself up, and then join me out there, okay? Love you.” He kissed me once more then ducked out. I tossed the tissues into the bin, moving slowly, still not quite trusting my body. I groped around and finally found my pants buried amongst the coats that had fallen from their hooks in our screwing. As I pulled them on, my brain burning, it began to run through a number of things.
What if mom finds out? Hell, what if dad finds out? What if dad wants to talk to mom about this tomorrow? Could I get the suit clean enough for mom by tomorrow? I needed to strip mom off, she had fallen asleep in her clothes, and it wouldn’t make sense for her to return home and re-dress before going to bed.
And what the hell was I going to do at midnight, when we all took off our masks?