Daddy’s Prom Queen

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I had called Patty my Prom Queen ever since that fateful night/early morning of her Senior Prom, when everything changed for all of us. The fact that Patty had gotten a date was kind of a shock, since she wasn’t the kind of girl that got much attention from the boys.

You might think that would be a bit of a blessing for a father, not having to worry about what his little girl was up to all the time, but it was clear that Patty wasn’t happy about being the wallflower staying up in her room and reading while everybody else was out partying. When Patty was unhappy, that made me miserable too.

It didn’t seem to bother my wife as much as it did me, and she actually suggested that Patty should corral the first guy with a pulse who came within range and drag him to the altar. As it turned out, that was kind of what Patty ended up doing, but that came after everything else happened.

The night of the Prom, my heart filled with pride as I saw my baby in her dress. It was pink and was likely the most modestly cut gown that I had ever seen, but she looked pretty to me, even though like she had always said, I’m prejudiced.

When she came home from the Prom, I was the only one awake, and the way she flew up the stairs to her room I could tell that the night must not have been a smashing success.

Her mother, self-absorbed bitch that she had become over the years, wouldn’t have gone to see what was wrong with Patty even if she was sober and awake, so I took it upon myself to go down the hall to Patty’s bedroom to see if I could help.

After I tapped on the door Patty told me to come in. My daughter was sitting at her dresser, eyes red and holding up the right side of her gown with her left hand. It seemed to me at first that the shoulder strap had come undone, but when I got closer I could see it had been ripped.

“Can I make it better?” I asked Patty as I sat next to her, reprising what I had always said to my little girl whenever something went wrong, and when Patty heard me say that she went to pieces in my arms.

My little girl wasn’t exactly little anymore, seeing how she was close to 6′ tall, which made her a shade taller than me, but she hadn’t had an easy time of it in her teenage years. It seemed as if genetically Patty had ended up with the least desirable traits of her parents.

Patty had ended up with her mother’s big nose and rail-thin frame, and as I held my precious child I was struck at how slender she was. Patty’s shoulder were bony, and her arms were so skinny that I could encircle her biceps with my thumb and index finger. The scent of the perfume she had too liberally used drifted into my senses as Patty sobbed away.

After Patty drained her tear ducts dry she started to get herself together, and after I asked her if she wanted to talk about it she nodded.

Patty started to speak and then turned away from me for a second, fidgeting around and reached into her dress. When her hand came out she had what looked like a bowl of some kind. Patty tossed it on the dresser, where is wobbled around for a second.

“Think the other one is still in the car,” Patty sniffed. “Drew threw it at the guy in the back seat.”

What Patty had pulled out was a falsie, a beige colored cone that was made of foam, I noted as I held it for a second before setting in back down. Apparently Drew, her date who was certainly no prize himself, had reached into Patty’s bra and discovered her little secret.

“Asshole,” I muttered as I looked at the sad little cone, and realized that I hadn’t known that she had been using falsies, since she wasn’t exactly what you would consider busty even with those in her bra.

32AA bra to be exact, I remembered from when I happened to glance at one of her harnesses in the hamper on day, and it was padded as well.

“He was trying to get me to – do something to him,” Patty explained. “I got distracted and the next thing I knew he had his hand under my dress and got under my bra. I’m so glad all I have to do is walk across the stage next week and get my diploma because I could never go back to that school again.”

“This will all be forgotten some day,” I lied. “When you’re 18 things seem more horrible than they really are.”

“I feel like putting an ad in the paper and telling everybody how little his dick is,” Patty said bitterly. “How would he like that? I should have bit it off!”

I shuddered at that comment. The thought that my baby girl had been going down on somebody was a shock, even though she was 18 and all. It wasn’t like she was pregnant or anything, but it was still tough to realize that Patty wasn’t a kid any more.

“Maybe you should talk to your mother about this,” I suggested, and Patty rolled her eyes at that.

“At least when I talk to you I know you’re listening,” Patty complained. “I told her that I wanted to get implants one time and she laughed and told me that I was probably a late bloomer like she was.”

“You don’t need implants,” I told Patty, who didn’t seem to be aware that her mother’s “late blooming” canlı bahis şirketleri was due to saline sacks that she had implanted in her when Patty was just a baby.

I think that Patty’s mother had gotten implants because she knew how how crazy I was about her breasts, having been attracted to small breasted woman all my life. She probably figured that after she traded in her apple-sized tits for the fake melons, I wouldn’t bother her so much for sex. She was right about that.

“You don’t know,” Patty said, shaking her head.

“Your mother was very small on top when I met her,” I explained. “It was part of what attracted me to her. Not all guys are infatuated with big breasts, you know. There are plenty of us that prefer women who are – smaller.”

“Not like me,” I said.

“I think you’re wrong,” I said. “Just because you happened to have had a bad experience with this jerk tonight doesn’t mean…”

My words caught in my throat when I saw Patty shrug her gown off of her bony shoulders. Her bra had been undone and was hanging off of one shoulder, and when Patty pulled that strap off she was naked to the waist.

“Not like me,” Patty said again, her face contorted and her lower lip quivering. “Not like me.”

“Patty,” I said, turning away after I looked far too long at my daughter’s chest.

“See. You can’t even look at me,” Patty sniffed, adding, “but at least you didn’t laugh.”

I wasn’t avoiding looking at Patty because I was revolted. In fact, it was just the opposite.

Patty looked at me strangely, and it was then I realized that I hadn’t just thought those last words, I had said them aloud, and now my hand was moving over toward Patty like I had no control over my actions.

“So beautiful,” I heard myself say as I touched my daughter’s breast, the feel of her soft warm flesh sending shivers down my spine.

Perhaps I had imagined seeing my daughter’s breasts from time to time, but I had never made any kind of effort to get a glimpse at them. In my mind, I had assumed that Patty was built much like her mother had been back when we were dating, but I was wrong.

Patty was flat chested, unless you want to count the barely noticeable swells on her chest that in terms of size looked even smaller than ping-pong balls. The sound of Patty’s sharp intake of her breath when my hand touched her nipple, went in tandem to her chest heaving rapidly.

“Was Mom flat like me?” Patty asked, her body moving slightly as I massaged the little bud, my finger tracing the outline of the aureole which was no bigger than mine, and then rubbing the pea-shaped nipple that sat in the center.

I was going to lie and just tell her yes, but I couldn’t do it.

“No baby,” I said. “Your Mom’s breasts were a bit bigger than yours. Not nicer, just bigger.”

Patty nodded, her chin still shaking along with her lip, and then it struck me exactly what I was doing. I was fondling my daughter Patty’s breast, and regardless of the size of it, this was still wrong.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I yanked my hand back. “Didn’t – I mean.”

“It’s okay,” Patty said.

“I mean, if I wasn’t your father and I was 30 years younger,” I said as I felt sweat starting to trickle down from my forehead.

“It’s okay,” Patty repeated, and then her long slender fingers were on my wrist, returning my hand back to where it had been, on her breast.

“Are they sensitive?” I asked, my voice cracking because my mouth had gone dry, and Patty nodded.

“I’ve never let any boy see me in the light like this,” Patty said as she moved into my hand. “Do you really like my titties?”

“Yes baby,” I wheezed, brushing the sweat from my brow with my free hand. “They’re perfect.”

Could this be my head moving down to kiss the tiny teat? Were my lips actually touching her nipple – a nipple almost as boyish as the breast in was centered on? I was, and my cock was throbbing as my mouth took in the little bud – all of it – and suckled on it passionately while my Patty panted and gasped as I did.

“Omigod!” Patty whimpered while I pulled my mouth off of her breast, looking at my crimson face with a stunned expression. “That felt so good.”

My response was to do the same thing to her other breast, and she was cradling my head in her hand as I did. The faint floral scent of her deodorant filled my senses as I looked into the deep abyss of my daughter’s exposed armpit, and I recalled how pink and smooth her underarms had been before she left for her date, the result of her shaving them just before her idiot date had arrived, wanting to look her very best for him.

Now after midnight, Cinderella’s chariot had turned into a pumpkin, and the deep cavern was filled with a faint five o’clock shadow. I let my thumb slide over the moist surface of her armpit while I sucked Patty’s tit, and my daughter seemed to enjoy my manual manipulations and even moved herself into me as I played.

“I – I shouldn’t be doing any of this,” I said when I managed to stop slobbering on canlı kaçak iddaa my daughter’s breast and got myself upright. “Your mother…”

“I hate her,” Patty said abruptly.

“You shouldn’t…”

“Hate her,” Patty repeated. “I hate the way she acts and I hate the way the treats you. I know you only stay with her because of me.”

For an 18 year old, Patty was pretty perceptive, and all I could do was shrug my shoulders while continuing to stare at her breasts, which were still wet with my saliva.

“Mom told me you’ve got a small dick,” Patty said bluntly, and when I looked up at her I saw her staring at the modest sized tent in my pajamas. “Doesn’t look it.”

I cried out in shock when I felt Patty’s hand grab my cock, reaching in through the fly of my pajamas and extracting my dick from captivity.

“You’re not so small,” Patty sighed. “It’s nice.”

The embarrassment of hearing my daughter telling me that her mother was discussing my shortcomings stung, but Patty’s hand soothed the pain. My dick isn’t so much small length-wise as it is lacking in thickness, absurdly so.

My wife told me one time when she was in a nasty mood that it was like getting fucked with a straw, and while that was an exaggeration she wasn’t all that far off. I’ve got an almost 6″ dick that’s no thicker than a hot dog, and while it was plenty good enough for my wife in the beginning, her tastes have changed.

“I want to suck your dick, Daddy,” Patty said, and when she started to bend over I stopped her.

“Please,” Patty said. “I know how. I’m good at it. I do it a lot.”

“You do?” I asked, and Patty nodded.

“That’s the only way I can hang out with guys at all,” Patty explained. “I’m still a virgin though. Are you mad at me? Please don’t hate me.”

“No baby, I could never hate you,” I said, and when Patty’s head started going back down, I did not stop her.

Patty pulled her hair back over her shoulder, which afforded me the joy of watching my daughter take my dick between her lips and let her mouth slide effortlessly down the entire stem.

Maybe it was because it had been so long – years – since my wife had gone down on me, or maybe it was because my Patty was every bit the accomplished fellatrix she claimed to be. All I know is that for as long as I could manage to keep from cumming, Patty drove me crazy.

By the time I came, I had practically slid down onto the floor, and when Patty clamped her mouth around the base of my dick and started doing some crazy thing with her throat that had me thinking she was going to inhale me, I ejaculated like I used to back when I was Patty’s age.

When I finally stopped coming, I looked down at Patty, who had just taken my withered dick out of her mouth and was flicking at the gum-drop sized glans with her tongue.

“Was I good Daddy?” Patty asked as she held my withering stem lovingly.

“Patty,” I whispered, and what I should have done was pretend that it never had happened, and just walked out of the room, but I couldn’t.

Instead, I had my daughter on her back in her bed. Her tattered gown was on the floor, along with her padded bra and her falsies, and I was peeling her panties off, sliding them down her skinny legs.

I was a bit shocked when I saw the jungle of dark brown hair between her legs, a dense forest that grew in a wide triangle over her sex, but the sight of her profuse pubic hair growth excited me and somehow justified what I was doing, at least to myself. It told me that despite how girlish Patty might appear in other areas, she was in fact very much a woman.

When my mouth touched her bush I found her wet, and when my tongue slipped inside her opening I made it wetter. Patty smelled and tasted so fresh and pure that I became almost feral as I tongued her ravenously, and after my daughter had almost crushed my skull with her thighs as she came, I ruined our lives.

I don’t even remember climbing up on the bed with my erection in my hand, although I do remember the shocked expression on Patty’s face when I put my dick inside of her, although she didn’t stop me, and in fact grabbed my ass and pulled me closer.

That’s not an effort to blame her, because the fault was mine. What had come before that had already crossed many lines, but putting your cock into your daughter’s pussy doesn’t cross the line, it obliterates it.

Even though my cock is slender, Patty was still tight. There was no mess, because Patty had eliminated that barrier with a “toy” long ago, and I would learn that there had been many fingers up there too, but my dick was the first one inside of her. Some father I was.

Having said that, it was the best sex I could remember. I made Patty orgasm, and watching her strained face biting the sheets in an effort to stay quiet was so arousing to me that I felt my own orgasm roaring through my loins.

At the last second I pulled my dick out, although I might have been a little late. Acting like a porn actor in the films I often watched in lieu of actual sex canlı kaçak bahis these days, I stroked my dick and spat my cum all over Patty’s stomach.

Looking at the milky white gobs of semen on Patty’s tummy and on the timberline of her pubic hair, I was about to cry when my daughter reached down and rubbed her hands in my seed. Then, she began spreading my load over her upper torso, especially over her breasts, which had completely disappeared with her being on her back.

“Maybe it will make them grow,” Patty said with a little smile as she massaged her chest with my cum, and I smiled back, wanting to tell Patty that I hoped they didn’t because I loved her the way they were.

“Don’t you dare cry,” Patty said. “Don’t ruin this for me, Daddy. I’ve fantasized about this moment for years, and a lot of times in my dreams you were the man to take my virginity. I love you so much.”

I did cry – in fact we both cried, but it wasn’t from guilt or anything like that. I think it was because we were in love.


That night wasn’t the end, it was only the beginning. Over the summer Patty started dating a kid that was already going to the college she would attend in the fall, and when she would get home I would stop into her room and she would tell me how the date went.

The rundowns of the night’s activities were not the type of conversations that a father and daughter traditionally have, but by then we had become anything but traditional. Patty was wearing a night shirt when I came into her room and sat beside her on the bed.

“Come on,” I said when I pressed her for more details. “If I can’t have sex at least I can enjoy it vicariously through you.”

“As long as you don’t throw it in my face in the future,” Patty said, and then she proceeded to tell me about her back seat activities.

“He fingered me,” Patty said. “I kept his hands below the waist so I don’t lose him right away. The longer I can keep him from seeing my tits the better chance I have to keep him.”

“What did you do to him?”

“Daddy!” Patty whispered, reminding me that her mother was down the hall, drunk and sleeping, but still there.

I wanted to hear everything, and although I was jealous when I heard Patty tell me what she did, I was also turned on, and happy that at least one of us was getting a little.

“I took his cock out and went down on him,” Patty said.

“How was it?”

“Not as nice as yours is,” Patty said.


“Really. His isn’t circumcised. I don’t like them as much.”

“Is he big? He must be bigger than me,” I said, and after Patty told me that didn’t matter, I replied, “If it doesn’t matter then you can tell me. It’s alright, I’m used to it. Most guys are going to be bigger than me.”

“Okay. Yes, his is bigger than yours,” Patty said. “A little longer and a lot thicker. But I still like yours better because I can deep throat all of yours, and that’s fun.”

“Tony’s too big for that?” I asked, and when Patty nodded I asked her if she swallowed.

“Yes,” my daughter admitted. “I always swallow. Less messy, but your cum definitely tastes better.”

“Are you going to fuck Tony?” I asked.

“I dunno,” Patty said, glancing down and noticing my dick making a tent in my pajamas. “Daddy! Are you getting excited over me or Tony?”

“You baby,” I said, sighing as Patty pulled my dick out of the fly and stroked it. “I wish I was young and well-hung like Tony, and was dating you and trying to get in your panties.”

“You don’t have to even try to get in my panties,” Patty cooed. “You want to make love to me right now, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I nodded while looking down at Patty’s hand jerking me off and the pre-cum drooling out of the tip and onto her fingers.

“You want to put your cock where Tony’s fingers were, don’t you Daddy?” Patty teased.

“Yes,” I pleaded. “Let me see you.”

Patty smiled as she let go of my dick long enough to pull her night shirt up and over her head, exposing her rail-thin upper torso and the tiny swells that were her breasts.

The sight of her virtually flat chest still made me as crazy as ever, and I was scrambling out of her pajamas and on top of my daughter as fast as was humanly possible. Her hairy pussy was wet and warm as my dick slid in effortlessly, and I wasted no time in bringing Patty to orgasm.

My orgasm was not far behind, and just as I was ejaculating into my daughter I heard Patty gasp and felt her pussy clamp down around my dick. For a second I thought that she was coming again but the look on her face said otherwise.

“You sick fuck.”

As I was depositing my seed deep into my daughter’s womb, the sound of my wife’s voice had my head swiveling around to see back at the doorway, where Patty’s mother stood bleary eyed and wobbly. Drunk as usual, but not too drunk to be able to figure out what we were doing.

“Whassa matter, Needle Dick,” my wife sneered. “Can’t satisfy a real woman so you have to pick on kids?”

“She’s not a girl anymore,” I replied, as if Patty being 18 made this alright.

“She looks like fucking Olive Oyl,” my soon to be ex-wife snickered as Patty belatedly pulled the sheet around us. “You make a good pair. She’s Olive Oyl and you’re Popeye, before the spinach that is.”

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