Morning Routine

Author Note: all characters in this story are 18 or older. If you do not like dubious consent and taboo themes, this story is not for you.

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"Want me to help you get ready?" Dillon, my older brother, asked. "It'll be easier that way."

I knew he was right, but it was still a little awkward. Since Dillon had graduated college and moved back home during my senior year of high school, he'd become an active part of our morning routine.

"Sure." I stood there, waiting and wanting him to take the lead. Even though this had been my life since turning eighteen, something I was okay with some days and hated others, I never liked initiating.

Dillon swept his floppy blonde hair out of his darkening blue eyes as he closed my bedroom door. Being only 5'2", I had to tilt my head up to maintain eye contact with my 6'2" brother as he towered over me.

"Are you wearing panties?" he murmured, his fingers skimming over my blouse buttons.

"Yes. You know the rules," I breathed, my nipples pebbling.

"Hmm..." Dillon slid his hand under my plaid skirt, rubbing his fingers over the soft cotton fabric of my pink panties.

I couldn't help but sway towards him when his thick fingers brushed over my clit. Biting my lip, my eyes fluttered closed while he went to work circling my little nub. With each pass, he added more pressure, the friction of his finger digging into my clit over the panties adding a delicious burn.

"Dillon," I panted, leaning forward and resting my forehead on his chest.

"You wet yet?" He answered his own question by dipping his fingers under my panties to slide them through my arousal. He swept his finger through my slick folds, massaging my labia and teasing my hole.

I whimpered when he took his hand out and licked his fingers clean. "Thank you," I murmured, blush hitting my cheeks.

"You can thank me later," he said with a wicked smile. "Now get going, you know Dad hates it when you're late."

With a nod, I grabbed my bag and made my way downstairs. As always, our father was sitting in his chair at the circular kitchen table. Setting my backpack on the floor, I padded over to him. I fell to my knees next to his legs, looking up at him expectantly while he read the paper.

Dad looked like an older version of Dillon, one who had let himself go. His hair was a white blonde with specks of gray here and there. He wore his reading glasses, which highlighted the wrinkles at his eyes. His jaw was still strong and his face was still relatively handsome.

Dad used to be a very athletic man, wanting to keep himself in prime condition for his wife. That is, until Mom ran off with her yoga instructor, leaving us all behind. After that, he retired and decided to spend more time with his family and less in the gym. He was still a muscular guy, but those muscles had some sag to them and his belly became bloated from all the late night beers.

Putting the paper down, Dad finally looked at me. "Good girl," he praised, cupping my cheek. I smiled because he seemed to be in a good mood today. "Get me ready."

Obediently, I reached into the flap of his plaid pajama pants and pulled out his flaccid cock. It was warm and heavy in my hand as I stroked the shaft how he liked. Glancing up at him, I leaned forward and licked the smooth head.

"Faster, girl, we don't have all day."

Sucking him into my mouth, I began to bob my head on his cock while my hand pumped the shaft in sync. I took a moment to let the head press against the back of my throat as his coarse pubic hair tickled my nose before slurping back up and swirling my tongue around the tip.

His thighs tightened as he slowly stiffened between my lips. Once he was fully erect, hot and throbbing against my tongue, I pulled my mouth off and caught my breath.

"Where do you want me?" I asked quietly.

"Hands on the counter." Dad grunted.

I rose and walked over to the kitchen counter, bracing my hands on the cool marble. Looking out the window in front of me, I was glad to see the street was empty. Across the street from us was just woods, but I knew from experience that people driving by could see right into the kitchen if they looked long enough.

I jumped when Dad's rough palms flipped my skirt up. His finger traced the wet spot on my panties that Dillon had given me.

"Did your brother help you?" he asked.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good."

Moving my panties to the side, I felt the tip of his cock press against my entrance. As he sank all the way in, I shivered and leaned forward to rest on my forearms.

"Take those tits out," he ordered gruffly, digging his fingers into my hips.

I unbuttoned my blouse and pulled my small but perky breasts from the cups of my bra. As Dad started thrusting into me, I rocked against the counter and my tits bounced. He set a ferocious rhythm, grunting and slamming his cock into me so hard that my mouth popped open but no sound could come out.

It felt like I was being impaled, and I guess I was, but no matter how many mornings started out this way, I never got used to his eight inch cock splitting my tight pussy.

The wet sound of his dick sliding in and out of me and his balls slapping against my ass filled the kitchen. Biting my lip, I turned my face away from the window. I gasped when I saw Dillon standing in the doorway, his hard cock in hand and jacking off while staring at us. Although he had helped prepare me for Dad most mornings since coming home, he'd never participated or watched before.

"You like that?" Dad sneered, leaning over me to pull at my nipples. "Like having your brother watch you get fucked by Daddy, you little slut?"

His words made my face heat and pussy tingle. "Yes," I moaned, hating myself for wanting to feel my brother's cock in my mouth while our Dad pounded into me.

Just then, I saw the school bus pull up outside our house. Knowing we were the first stop, I was saved the humiliation of other students seeing me get fucked by my father, but the bus driver was getting a free show.

"Make me cum," Dad snapped, pinching my nipple and ramming into me. The force shoved me forward, my clit rubbing against the edge of the counter. "Faster you milk my cock, faster you get to school. Or do you want to give your bus driver a show?"

He reached down between us and vigorously rubbed my throbbing clit as his thrusts became jerky. "I bet he likes the show too. If you're a good little slut, I'll even let him get a taste."

My clit started burning and heat flooded my womb. I cried out, thrashing and screaming as my orgasm wracked my body. Every muscle spasmed and tensed as Dad fucked me with abandon, only caring about getting his pleasure. I felt hot jets of semen coat my walls as my pussy squeezed his steel rod over and over again.

When he pulled out of me, I whined at the loss. Even though I came, which I did most mornings, I was still turned on and over stimulated. Dad grabbed me by my blonde pony tail and yanked me upright. His lips slammed onto mine, devouring my mouth and lashing his tongue against mine. Finally letting me go, I righted my blouse and fixed my damp panties.

Dillon came over, his now spent dick laying against his pants as he handed me my bag. I murmured my thanks and slid the bag over my shoulders.

Dad opened the door for me, palming my ass as I passed him. "Make sure to tell your bus driver that you've got Daddy's cum in your panties."

"Yes, Daddy."

"And ask him if he wants to put his there too."

"And if he says yes?" I whispered shyly.

"Be a good girl and do what he says," Dad told me, giving my cheek a kiss. "Have a good day at school, my little senior!"