Filling an Empty Space

"Thank you Daddy," I said, feeling my cheek redden. He laughed.

"Thank YOU," he said in response, "It was so good, I am still hard. Christ a-mighty, that hasn't happened in twenty years!" I looked down and saw that indeed, my father's cock, glistening with cum and my saliva, was still hard. Still grotesque and shameful. But still beckoning.

"I'm proud of you Daddy," I said, playfully. He laughed again, the now-familiar sound of my father's approval.

"We shouldn't let it go to waste," he said, raising his eyebrows a me. The implication was clear. I'd learned in a very short period of time that my father wasn't subtle in the bedroom. My daddy wanted to fuck me.

I knew that I could back out now if I wanted to. I had...satisfied my father. I hadn't allowed him to believe my mother rejected him. I gave him pleasure. He was...proud of me. I could say I was tired and then leave right then. He would have laughed, make a mocking boast about being more virile than me, and let me go.

But, as that thought hit, I took stock of myself. I knew that when I left the room, the implications of what I had done would hit. And I didn't look forward to that. My swirling emotions kept my shame, just barely, at bay. But that was a distant thought, really. First in my mind was taking stock in my body. And I was surprised by what I found. My heart was fluttering in my chest, a kind of excitement I generally felt before a first kiss. My palms were sweaty. My nipples were aching. And, I could feel a definite slickness between my legs. I was aroused! Straddling my age-ravaged father, his sperm still coating my mouth, I was aroused.

I knew it wasn't physical. Even then, overwhelmed by the moment. My father's appearance, his smell, the bony feel of him. None of that was particularly...enticing. But his praise was still ringing in my ears. It was still rocketing through my body, rattling my brain. My stomach was still warmed by his semen. I realized that, like my father, I wasn't sated. I needed more of that. I need more of his recognition, his attention, his praise. My body ached for it in a way I'd never felt with physical desire. My father still wanted me and so I, naturally, still wanted him.

I didn't respond to my father. Instead I rose up on the mattress. The medical bed was solidly built, heavy. It barely rocked as I stood at full height above my father. He looked up at me, his eyes on my breasts as they bounced. I was wearing a pair of tight gray yoga pants with a pair of boy shorts underneath. I slipped my fingers into both waistbands at the same time, pulling them down at the same time. I toddled a little as I slipped them over my heels, but soon they were on bed. I kicked them off my father's shins and onto the floor. I was naked before my father.

"You shaved your cunt," he said lewdly, but he looked excited, "You said you'd never do that the whole way!" I looked down at my waxed pussy, the pink lips and hard little clit clearly visible with no hair to obscured it. I was glistening wet, even my thighs were slick. I quietly gave thanks that I'd groomed that morning. Once again, was one-upping mom. Making Daddt excited. Earning his attention and his pride.

"Anything for you Daddy. I would do anything for you," I said, realizing that I was telling the truth.

"That's why you are my good little girl," my father responded. I shivered and felt my knees weaken. I fell quickly to my knees. I felt my father's cock brush against my leg as I dropped. It bounced between my legs and then up behind me. I felt the hard tip slip between my ass cheeks and press against my asshole. I groaned, but I didn't hesitate. There was no turning back now. I was desperate for this.

I reached my hand behind my body, felt the tip of my father's cock between my fingers. I guided his shaft out of my ass cheeks, lifted myself up slightly. I gasped as I felt my father's cock slip through my pussy lips, and he was instantly soaked in my juices. I felt him graze my clit and I felt unexpected pleasure rocket through my body. Instinctively, my free hand rose up, grasping at my breast and pinching my nipple. Some small relief from the tension. I breathed out slowly, moved my father's cock back slightly, and the began to lower my hips.

My father's cock pierced me easily. I was so wet and excited...I just sort of opened up for him. I knew he was thick, but he felt thicker now...inside of my pussy. I groaned as he split me open. The bulbous tip passed inside of me. I squeezed my breast tighter.

"Goddamn woman, you haven't been this tight since your kid was born! You doing exercises?" I felt my stomach lurch. Another problem I had created. I felt guilty. But even as the emotion set in, I realized that I had the tools to ameliorate that guilt. I could make up for it.

"You are just so big Daddy!" I said said, again honestly. My father groaned in approval. But I wasn't just trying to flatter him. I gave up any semblance of patience. I knew I was wet. I knew I could take my father's cock. Hell, even if I couldn't take it, I was going to do it. I dropped my hips down and felt my ass sink onto my father's thighs. My father's hard cock cleaved me, I felt my body wrap tightly around him. It was like he was in every inch of me. For the first time in my life, I felt like I possessed him entirely. Now, both hands free, I reached up and grabbed my other breast. My father's hands rose and I felt his bony, scratchy palms on my hips. He rocked my slightly, backwards and forwards. I could feel his cock moving inside of me.

"Oh Daddy!" I groaned. No put on now, the words just came naturally. My father didn't respond, but his eyes closed and I felt his hands squeeze me tighter. I was doing well. But I needed to do more. I leaned forward slightly, let my hands slip from my breasts. My palms came down on my father's now-narrow chest. He felt bony and frail. But real. It was him.

My hips pushed back as I leaned, my father's cock driving deeper and deeper into me. I felt his low-hanging balls against my asshole as I drove deeper. Then, I pressed down on my father' chest with my palms, lifting my ass. I felt my father's cock slip out of me, slowly. Inch by inch, I felt my father's penis pull out of my pussy, lips. His muscles and veins rippled deliciously inside of me. Soon, just the bulbous tip remained inside of me. I felt emptied, barren. I ached for him. I quickly thrust my hips back down, feeling my father once again enter me with full force. His balls slapped hard against my asshole as I dropped. For some reason, that felt lovely.

For a moment, I wanted to just sit and savor the sensation of having my father inside of me. But I looked down and saw that my father's eyes were opened. He was looking at me lasciviously. His hands were rubbing along my hips and my waist, tracing my feminine curves. He was admiring me. I couldn't stop now. I instantly rose my hips again, letting my father's cock slip out of me, then slamming back in. Once again, I moved with total abandon. I rose my hips quickly, I slammed them back down harder. Again and again and again. My father was big, and hard, even if his body was frail. But I was sopping wet. There was no pain, just pleasure. And pride. I arched my back as I rose and fell, felt my father's hands rise and grab my breast. I felt sweat break out on my forehead, I felt my lungs ache for breath. But I didn't slow. I took my father's cock with complete devotion.

And he noticed.

"Christ a-mighty," I heard him groan, "what's got into you? I don't think I can last much longer, but I don't ever want to stop!"

I know now, and I think I knew then, that he was just shooting his mouth off before he came. But at the time, I know what I heard and felt. My father was saying that he wanted to be with me. He didn't want to leave. I'd earned his time and, at least in some way, his respect.

I felt tears in my eyes at that moment. They came unbidden, and my breath hitched in my throat. I slammed my eyes closed. I didn't want him to see. I didn't want him to ask about it. I threw myself forward, putting my arms on either side of my father's shoulders, burying my face in his chest. My breasts squeezed against his stomach. His smell was thick, his chest bony. My hips pressed back as I leaned, driving my father's cock into me deeper. I didn't want to disappoint him, so I rotated my hips even as burrowed into his chest, feeling his cock rock inside of me.

My father's hands rose and I felt one hand snake across my back. The other hand rose to the back of my head. His fingers slipped into my hair. He squeezed into my hair for a second, like he was going to pull it. Then his hand relaxed and his finger ran through my hair. Then he returned his hand, stroking my head gently. I could feel his heart beating as he gently petted me. It was sweet, gentle. It was the only loving caress my father ever shared with me. I couldn't stop the tears now, but I kept grinding my hips.

Unfortunately, my father had been right. He couldn't last much longer. I am not sure how long it was. But it felt like I'd just bent over when I felt my father's hand tighten against the back of my neck, his other arm squeezed around my back. His muscles tensed and he breathed in sharply. I felt his balls seize up against my ass, his urethra swelled.

"Ugh!" He said. And then I could feel it. The warm stickiness of my father's sperm spurting into my tight pussy. Filling me more, coating me in warmth. I shivered around my father's cock, my body trembling with gratitude, excitement.

"Oh god, give me your cum Daddy!" I groaned, hoping he'd never stop. Hoping he'd pump more and more into me forever.

"Ugh..." he groaned again, "Oh I love you...I love you...I love you..." my father whispered into my ear as his orgasm peaked.

My mind went blank. Those three words, over and over again from my father's mouth, each time echoing in my brain a thousand times. The orgasm came for me then. I could feel my muscles tighten, I could feel the screech escape my throat. I sensed my entire body trembling. But, unlike any orgasm I'd ever felt before or since, the sensation was more than just physical, it was all-encompassing. It was like my father's sperm had shot straight into my veins, I could feel him circulating through me. I could feel him touching parts of me that he'd never touched before, touching every part of me. I felt his love, flawed and mistaken though it was, coating each and ever part of me. All my broken places...all my hard edges, I felt were blanketed in warmth, obscured. Unfelt. I soaked in my father's love as it mixed with my orgasm, became part of the orgasm. And, in that moment, I was completely whole.

Slowly, my orgasm began to subside. My mind came back to me. I was still laying with my head on my father's chest, panting at sweating. His hand was still on my neck, his arm across my back. He wasn't moving. I could still feel his heartbeat, the source of his love. But the euphoria remained.

"Oh Daddy, I love you too," I said, sitting up slightly, feeling my father's soft cock slip out of my dripping pussy. I was straddling my father's waist and I looked up at him, desperate to see his satisfaction, to feel his approval again, "Daddy I..." I started and then stopped.

My father's eyes. They were blank, staring through me. His chest rose and fell, but his hands slipped off of me, lifelessly. The moment of lucidity was gone. He felt nothing for me. My father had slipped away again. I sighed deeply. A quiet noise, but it contained all of the emotion that I could muster. A moment of magic had existed. Now it was gone. The warmth drained from me. My broken places, my hard edges were still there as it receded. I felt...weary.

I cleaned my father's sperm off of me and got dressed, my mind blank, my body aching and defeated. I didn't look back as I left the room.

* * * * *

He died three weeks later. I never saw him alive again. Those weeks were a hard time. A very hard time. After I slept off my...experience that day, I was filled with revulsion. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see the bony body. I could smell his scent. Taste his sperm. For a week, I was terrified I was pregnant (despite the fact that I was on the pill), until my period came.

I simply didn't understand what I had done. There had been a moment of crushing weakness and somehow I had...taken advantage of myself. And with just a little bit of reason and clarity, my actions no longer made sense to me. It felt like someone else had been in control of me. I was embarrassed and ashamed of myself, even though no one else knew about it. Or ever would.

But, eventually, that feeling began to fade. I won't say that it went away. I feel it now, especially a I recount it. It just became...familiar and less acute. But as it faded, I was left with something else. An emptiness. At first I just thought that that was a return to the status quo. After all, I'd felt empty my entire life. But while it was a similar feeling...it was also different.

I had always wanted to hear my father say he needed me around. Had wanted him to be proud of me. I had wanted him to love me. To say that. That was the emptiness I had always felt before. But now, through a horrible accident, I'd experienced it. I felt my father's respect, his pride, his love. And yet, here I was, still feeling empty. And, at first, that made me incredibly sad. I figured that I just realized that it wasn't really for me. It was fake. For someone else.

It took months for me to realize that I was wrong. It didn't come all at once. The pieces came together slowly. But, eventually,I understood that when my father was fucking me, he had really felt it. Love. The very real love that my father felt for my mother, he had given it to me. The fact that he was mistaken actually made it more real. I had really gotten to experience what it was like for my father to love me. And yet I was still empty.

But as the distance in time grew and my thoughts placed themselves in greater order...I realized that that emptiness wasn't bad. It didn't hurt like the old emptiness did (though the scars of the old pain were still there). It was a...pleasant emptiness. But I couldn't explain it.

Then, today , it just...suddenly made sense. The last piece of the puzzle slipped into place. I woke up and I immediately called my boyfriend. I didn't even think, I just acted. I called and I told him I didn't want to see him anymore. Wanted nothing to do with him. And when I hung up the phone, I realized what I'd done. And at first, it didn't make sense to me. I'd made no decision, I just dumped him. And for some reason, I was thinking of my father.

Things clicked into place. For my whole life, I'd been desperate to feel what it was like to be loved by my father. To have him want me. I thought... if I had it, then my life would finally work. That that was what I was missing. That I was bad and that was why my father didn't love. And if I had his love, I would be cured. But then I had it. The whole thing, all the love he could muster.

And my enormous father, who'd dominated my life...he suddenly felt small. I felt his love and it...didn't feel like much of anything. It was an exhilarating, disgusting moment. Then it faded. And, for the first time in my life I was able to see my father for what he really was. A little, mean-spirited man whose love didn't really amount to much. Even if I'd had it all along...my life wouldn't be any different. The fact that he didn't care for me...what difference did that make? Why would I want him to love me anyway? It was absurd, and now I understood that. I didn't deserve the treatment my father gave me. I didn't deserve the self-hatred that had pushed me into the arms of terrible men.

I had a big emptiness inside of me. It is still there. But my father can't, and shouldn't fill it. I need a real love. And I deserve it.

The End.

Note: I honestly write so that I can hear the comments you all give. So please just tell me what you think. Even if it is just a sentence or two (though I always prefer more). Consider that your payment for a free story. And if you like this, I beg you to read my other stories and comment on them too. I know who my loyal readers are and I really appreciate you. Thanks!

YKN

P.S. I do one edit of my work and I try to be thorough. But I figure when it comes to handing out free erotica, you all would be better served getting it fast (if a little rough), than waiting for me to polish it like I was getting paid for my work. So, in short, I know there are some errors and I don't really care that much. Don't complain about the soundtrack in your porno, don't sweat the typos in your erotica. Thanks.