My Son the Girl

My Son the Girl

T__his story is a work of adult erotic fantasy, copyright me 2016. I own all legal rights. I own the story. If you are under the age of majority in your jurisdiction, do not read this story.

Nifty is an incredible resource that needs donations to survive. If they had a dollar for every orgasm they've helped produced, they wouldn't need to ask for your dollars. But, they do. So, support Nifty. You can do so here:  http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html

I've got a Tumblr. You can find a lot more content there:  www.pagespermer.tumblr.com

I love hearing from readers. I REALLY love getting pictures of cum that you spilled reading my stories. In both cases, be patient with response time. I'm a busy Dad: DomDadTop@gmail.com

Thanks for reading and for sperming.

Bad Dad

My Son the Girl

My son has no cock.

I've seen pussy mounds bigger than that.

I mean - that's what it looks like, doesn't it? A pussy mound?

When I first saw him wearing that . . . I don't know, what, bikini? . . . I was, like, ashamed. But what do you say to your first born?  "Kid - you got no cock showing in that bathing suit. None at all. You're never gonna get snatch dressed like that."

But, then he turned around and I realized that maybe he was dressed this way for another reason. I mean - like - maybe he was the pussy or something. It was weird, but the kid's ass was bangin' and his chest was smooth as silk - like he'd shaved or gotten a treatment or . . . I don't know. It was unnaturally smooth . . . like you couldn't even see any stubble. Like he wanted it that way. And all these big Hollywood dudes were giving him the eye, like he was some kind of hooker or something, and I started to get a clue, even though I didn't want to - you know - think about my son like that.  (Like a hooker - not a fag. I knew he was a fag - sorry, gay. I knew he was gay. I mean, duh. Look a him. Totally gay.)

See, he'd invited me out to visit him at his new digs in L.A. He and I had always had a - what's the word . . . tenuous relationship. We were opposites - I'm kind of a big, hairy, burly dude and he was never that - though I always tried to give her - sorry, I mean, him - credit for the work he did on his body. Hell, I never got to that zero-percent-body-fat-level like he did, even in my glory days. The kid was dedicated, I'll say that much, and even though it was really fucking weird telling my buddies he had come in third at the State Gymnastics Championship and was a national-level college cheerleader, I was proud of him. I mean - I was.

I was . . .

Seriously man - I was, okay? He was just always so . . . girly. I mean the shit he did with his hair and the way he walked and stuff - I'd had all these dreams of being a Football Dad or a Baseball Dad, or even a fucking Soccer Dad - but hanging out at the gymnastics meets wasn't really my joy-ride, if you know what I mean. Most of the guys competing were obvious fags, or trying so hard to be straight that it was funny – like seriously hilarious – it made you want to come out of the bleachers and walk up to them at the end of their floor routine and just say, "Dude – get real – here, just suck my cock so you can stop pretending, `kay?"

But, his mother was totally into it, and I went to every fucking meet, alright? Every one. Yeah - I skipped the cheerleading competitions. I drew the line there. At those meets . . . jesus. Talk about queens. They'd kiss each other and shit. And hold hands. And like, the hugs they gave each other weren't even bro-hugs, okay? They just weren't. So I stopped going after about the second one, because come on, it shouldn't even be a sport in my opinion . . . But, I seen him on the YouTube, though. The little fucker could fly, I'll give him that, and he was strong as shit, pound-for-pound, so . . .

Anyway, he got nearly a full ride to UC, for fucking cheerleading, believe it or not, which was amazing, because his younger brother is a dope, so we're gonna have to pay his entire way, so I guess being a fag paid off. Sorry – gay. I guess being gay paid off.

But, even though his younger brother is a dope, at least he's into real sports. I'm finally a Football Dad like I wanted to be. And, a Wrestling Dad - which is a lot cooler of a sport than I ever realized, but once Tim got into it – I was like, all in. I'm a fanatic now. And shit – those dudes, they know how to bro-hug, okay? Hell that's all those dudes do is bro-hug – that's kind of the point of wrestling, is bro-hugging, you know what I mean?

But this is about Bailey, not Tim - though I always wondered if naming him `Bailey' was his problem - like we put a curse on him, or something. Bailey. What kind of name is that, anyway? It's a girl's name – that's what it is – but his mom insisted, because it was her father's dead brother's name, or some shit like that, so I went with it, but always hated it. Like I said – it sounds like a girl's name, that's what I think - and I always wondered whether we cursed her with it. Sorry – cursed him with it.

I mean – his mom's family, they were always a little light in the loafers anyway, in my opinion – not much bro-hugging going on over there, no sir. When they hugged it made you feel uncomfortable, and they'd squeeze you and shit – in places they weren't supposed to –which was weird, basically, so maybe he got it from them.

The gay thing.

Who knows?

But anyway, he invited me out, because he had a new job at this movie studio - he said he was a Studio Boy, whatever that was - and I think he was making an effort to re-connect with me, or maybe come out to me, which he'd done with his mom, but not to me, since we always had trouble talking. About anything. Because let's face it, he didn't sound like a dude or act like a dude, so what were we supposed to talk about, cheerleading outfits?

But, here I was because his mom had basically ordered me to come, and that bitch had been getting on my nerves lately anyway - she was going through menopause - and it was winter, and I was stir-crazy, so I came.

And I was feeling uncomfortable. Totally uncomfortable. I mean - everyone at the party was, like, pretty, and I was just there in my jeans and my boots, and my Levi's shirt, and I told the kid I felt uncomfortable and he said this to me, in his new BMW, just before we got out of the car, he said, "Don't be uncomfortable, Daddy. You're a stud. Everyone is gonna be so into you. Just wait."

And then he got out and swished up the steps to the hotel where the party was – which was a pool party, which he didn't tell me, which pissed me off, which made me want to spank her – I mean, him – which I hadn't thought about doing in years, which was weird – and then he dropped his jeans and stripped off his shirt, and everyone turned their heads and watched as he walked through the crowd and damn if a couple of older guys - like obviously rich dudes - actually whistled, and this was not my scene at all, but then a young kid grabbed me and said, "I bet you want a beer, right? Are you Bailey's Daddy? He's told everyone about you - he was right, too."

And then I'm being led along by this little flitty, twinky guy, but he's funny as shit, I'll give him that, and after a few beers I'm figuring this ain't so bad. Better than the fucking mid-west in winter with a menopausal psychopath, I'll tell you, and everyone is so friendly and even though I'm not into dudes, I am into having a whole bunch of people tell me I'm hot - which is what happened. You don't get that kind of complimenting around where I spend most of my time, so it was pretty good for my ego, especially because the wife has been telling me to lose weight, even though I don't think I've gained that much weight, just some `dad-meat' which all my buddies have, and they have a shit-ton more than I do - I'm in pretty good shape, still - IMHO as the kids say in their texting.

There were even some ladies there, though they were mostly over-weight and I heard one of them call the other a `hag' which didn't seem nice, but they both laughed at that, and they hovered around me, competing for my attention with the gay guys - which was fun, and weird, but I was getting toasted, so what the fuck.

And look - I ain't that handsome, I don't think, really, I mean, who knows - but I think the reason everyone was all in my stuff was because I was different. `Cuz, everyone there was groomed within an inch of their life, but I hadn't shaved for a couple of days, what with the red-eye and all, and I was beefy, and a big guy, and they were all thin as sticks and trim and shit - and I was wearing real clothes and they were wearing dollars, basically - stuff that costs a lot of dollars, but why the fuck would you spend that much money on a swim-suit that made your cock look like a pussy?

And then Bailey comes over and it looks like he's had more than his share of booze, too, because he's all gregarious in a way that I never seen him, and he pushes that little flitty dude out of the way and says, "Get your hands off of my Dad, sweetheart. He's mine this weekend. All mine."

And then he presses up into me like a lady would, and I would have cold-cocked him, normally, except he's pointed out a few of his `bosses' so I knew I couldn't do that, plus I was pretty fucked up so I didn't do anything, and the next thing I know it's feeling pretty good - like really good - in a way I ain't felt in a while, `cuz his mom doesn't have that `thing' for me any more, and she hasn't put out in a couple of years, and fucking menopause too, which she says is hell, but she got no idea what hell is, being on the other side of her change of life - so this is kind of hot, ya know, getting felt up, and also I'm sweaty, and his hand is running up and down my back, and grabbing at my muscles, and damn if I'm not getting turned on, and damn if the little flitty kid isn't watching us and throwing a little wood - which, sad to say, wasn't that big at all, but was a whole helluva lot bigger than what my kid had, which was basically nothing.

"Son," I says, whispering to him, trying to put a stop to this, but also putting my hand on his lower back, inadvertently, except once it was there it felt natural to be there, and it felt good, too, and he pushed back into it, kind of like a lady does when you make a bold move and she tells ya, with her body, `Yeah, stud - that's just the right move to make, right there," and I'm beginning to get a little dizzy and I forgot what I was gonna say, except once I got that "Yeah-stud-that's-just-the-right-move-to-make" signal my hand slipped even lower, because that's what you do when you get that signal is you go for it, which I did, so pretty much all I could think about was how smooth it was back there, like a lady, and hot, and tight, and . . . . like I said, I lost my train of thought.

But, really, I got on another train right about then, and that train wasn't about thinking, if you know what I mean.

And he turns to me and kind of rubs up against me, and he says, "What, daddy?"

And he looks up at me, blinking his pretty eyes, and I can't remember the last time he called me daddy, but right now it's working wonders, and right now I'm getting hard, and right now I'm getting thoughts I shouldn't have - except I ain't done nothing but beat off for a couple of years - which is a long time for a guy like me, I mean, seriously, but I've been faithful and ain't hired a hooker or anything - and so this just feels good - really good - like he's a woman, actually, and not just any woman, but the woman I been wanting for a while now, beating off about, ya know - the woman you imagine that wants you really bad because your wife no longer does, so you imagine that there's some woman out there that does want you, and suddenly here she is, right in front of you, and so I says, "We should go."

Just like that. I says, "We should go."

And he knows what I mean and I know what I mean and so he turns and picks up his pants and shirt and leads me out of there, with even more whistles, now, because the party is getting going, and I see a few of the older dudes slip my son some business cards, which makes me feel proud, because I'm glad he's doing business even though that's the last thing on my mind, because all I can do is look at his ass which I swear to god is falling out of his bikini and is swishing back and forth at me like it's trying to hypnotize me and get me to fuck it and basically, that's working, because I can't keep my eyes off it and I'm feeling really buzzy, too, and for the first time I'm wondering if there was something in those beers other than beer, except I had so many I can't even remember how many, so maybe it was just the alcohol and the red-eye and stuff . . . and the ass. The ass seemed to be calling me and it just seemed natural to answer that call.

It was a short drive to his new place, up the hills a bit, and in the car I couldn't stop looking at the nothing in his bikini, so I said, "Son - we need to talk -"

And he said, "I know, daddy - I'm gay."

And I said, "I know that, honey," which surprised me, since I'd never called him that before, but it seemed appropriate in the moment and made him smile this big pretty smile, which made me feel really warm inside, which was nice, because I ain't been feeling that way lately.

"Your mommy told me," I said, and again, here I was using language that I never used – I hadn't called that witch `mommy' in like, forever - but it seemed right as it was coming out of my mouth, sitting here talking to little Bailey, and I was petting his leg when I said that, which I never done before, but which felt nice - to be petting him like that, and telling him that I knew he was a fag - sorry, gay - and it was okay – because his mommy and daddy loved him.

So much.

"It's okay, honey," I said, calling him that name again, but it seemed natural for him and he seemed to like it, too.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, daddy" he said, blinking his eyes at me, as we stopped at a blind corner, and I petted his thigh. And now his tits seemed to be perking up, and all hard, what with the cool night air and the convertible, and I lost my train of thought again, but then found it and just blurted out, "Bailey - those panties you're wearing make it look like you have a pussy, honey."

And that just hung there. And I started to feel bad, and surprised by all the weird shit coming out of my mouth, but it was like being in Los Angeles, in the heat, was making me all uninhibited – that and the dudes and the chicks that had been all into me - so I decided it was okay to say whatever came to me, which I hadn't really done for our entire relationship, so maybe it was best to start all over again with her - him - sorry, him – and just say shit that was on my mind – you know, speak my truth - so I just kept going. "Sorry, Bailey - but that's all I been thinking about since I saw those jeans of yours drop and saw you in that bikini - that's all I been thinking about, honey – that you got like nothing at all down there except a pussy – because it looks just like a pussy-mound."

And he didn't get mad at me or anything - he just smiled this kind of wicked smile, putting his hand on my hand, which was still on his thigh, and he said, "I know, dad."

"Is that what you want, baby_?"_ I asked. "Is that what you want people to see?"

"Yes, Sir," he said, as we pulled into his driveway.

"You don't care if people think . . . if they think you don't have a . . . "

"I wish I didn't have a penis, daddy. I don't use it –except to pee. It's not big enough – and anyway, it's my pussy that most men want."

Then, he turned to me, looked me right in the eye, and said, "Because - I do have a pussy, daddy. And, I wanted you to know that, too – that's why I asked you to come out – so I could tell you who I really was - but you figured it out on your own."

And then he leaned over and kissed me straight on the lips, mouth open, and said, "And that's why I love you, Daddy. You figured it out on your own."

He was out of the car in a flash, leaving his shirt and pants in the back seat, just heading up to the house, up the stairs, and I found myself following behind him and just about as crazy-horny as I ever been, hearing my son say that to me, and trying to figure out what it meant, but also feeling my lips buzz with his wet kiss, and tasting his kind of flowery taste, and also getting hard, and also him leading the way, which I wasn't used to, and then we were in the house and he reaches back with his hand, and I reach for his, and he pulls me up more stairs and it's dark, and he leads me into his room, and the next thing I know he's pulling down his bikini with one hand and dragging me forward with the other and he's crawling up on the bed and arching his back, and pushing back into me and I get up on the bed and push into his beautiful ass and he's whispering, "And you know what to do with pussy, don't you daddy?"

And, I says, "Yes, honey."

And he says, "You used to tell me what a man does to a pussy – tried to tell me what to do – but all I could think of was you doing it – what you do to a pussy."

And the next thing you know my cock is out and it's as hard as a rock and I'm pushing up against his ass which is wet, like a real pussy, and I wonder how that happened, but don't give a shit, because it feels so good - so so good.

"All I could imagine was me having a pussy, and you using it the way you told me – the way a man like you uses pussy – fucks pussy."

"Yes, baby girl," I says, pushing my cock into his slit, which is opening just like slits are supposed to, which is as hot as fuck, as far as I'm concerned.

"Oh god," he moans, losing control now, "It really is as big as I thought it was,"

And I says, "Yeah, sweetie - daddy has a big dick, honey-girl - I'll go slow."

And he says, "No, daddy, please don't. Just fuck me. I want it so bad – I've always wanted it, daddy – ever since you told me about pussies I've wanted you in mine. Please fuck your girl, daddy."

And he's looking at me, over his shoulder, eyes all wet, mouth open, talking to me like he's some kind of whore in a porno, except he's not a whore, he's my son – sorry, she's my son – and she's basically begging me to fuck her, and so I do - I push it in and she moans and opens up, and it feels so much like a pussy, except it's tighter and hotter, and the next thing I know my balls are slapping up against her bikini and I push down on her, push her into the bed and she's moaning just like a girl and I'm fucking her just like she's a girl, and it feels so fucking good. I ain't had my cock wet in two years, and I'm hard as hell and ramming my son, only I don't think of him as my son, I think of him as a woman - I think of her, and I'm just lapping at the back of her neck and thrusting my cock into her and talking all of this trash, like she's a hooker or something. "Yeah, honey - yeah baby - yeah little girl – daddy's little girl - take daddy's big cock honey - daddy's gonna knock you up - make you pregnant with his cum - take it baby-girl - take it all."

And by then I'm ramming the bitch and she's throwing her head back and forth, and writhing her body all over the place and pushing her pussy up and down on my cock and nearly going crazy - I ain't never had a girl act this way on my piece, never, like she's a porn slut or something, bouncing up and down and twerking and just moaning like a bitch – like a pole dancer at a truck-stop, except she loves being that truck-stop-hooker, and loves doing it for this john in particular.

"Fuck me," she growls, getting all demanding, like she's in heat or something. "Fuck me harder, daddy, fuck my pussy – fuck your girl's cunt – breed me, daddy, fuck me, daddy, breed me, daddy, fuck me, daddy, breed me, fuck me, breedmefuckmebreedmefuckmebreedme . . . "

Over and over again, and this just turns me the fuck on like I never been and I'm pounding her now but I pull out and I flip that bitch over and I throw her legs over her shoulders and for the first time I see she's got her toe-nails painted, just like a real girl, and her panties are still all bunched up which is good because I just imagine she's got a clit down there and anyway, I don't care about that, I just ram into her like I'm her father, which I am, and like I made her, which I did, and like I'm taking what's mine, which I am `cuz she is, and she's clawing at me and scratching me and I'm bending over her and just going crazy on her cunt and she's just egging me on, begging for "more, more, more"

"Fuck me daddy fuck me daddy make me your bitch, daddy - daddy's bitch, daddy's bad bitch, daddy's cunt hole - fuck my cunt-hole, daddy!"

And I just do, glaring at her, ankles on either side of my head and I don't know what comes over me but I went ahead and kissed her, which is crazy cuz I never did kiss a guy except I don't see her as a guy, but a girl, and she loves it and that shuts the bitch up, which I needed to do because I just need to ride her now and get my nut and make the bitch take it - show her who's boss - so I pinned her whiny hungry body to the bed and powerfucked her and slapped my balls against her wet, wrecked cuntlips until I was about to blow up, and I was so close to cumming that I almost pulled out, because I got worried about getting her pregnant – I was so into her as a girl that I nearly yanked my cock out, and then I realized the bitch would never get pregnant, which was the greatest realization of my entire life, so I slammed into her as hard as I could, and I just creamed her guts with a massive load, powering so deep I don't know how she took it, and I let go of her lips and buried into her neck and bit the bitch, like I was some kind of animal and she was some kind of prey, and she screamed just like a girl - just like one - top of her lungs - and that turned me on even more, and it was getting sloppy now, like real cunts do, and I felt my sperm spraying out of her hole and all over my crotch but I just kept pounding and digging my teeth into her neck, and my balls kept pumping because it had been a week since I nutted and two years since I fucked, and my whole life since I'd cum like this, and once she stopped screaming because of the bite she just moaned, over and over and over, like a girl, like a woman, running her femmy hands over my sweaty back and gripping my ass and feeling my biceps and being so beyond gay - she was all girl, all woman, and I was loving it.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhhhhdadddydaddydaddy . . . Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh so big . . . soooooooobig-bigdaddydick-cuminmypussy, daddyswetpussy . . . oh, oh, oh, oh, oh ..."

And I just keep pumping, but by now my head is spinning a little and my cock is beginning to relax a bit and her smooth skin just feels so good except on her legs, where she hasn't shaved and I'm wondering why not and that I'm gonna have to talk to her about that first thing, because her skin feels so good where its smooth and not so good where there's still hair and as far as I'm concerned, girls shouldn't have hair on their bodies - anywhere - they should be smooth - my daughter should be nice and smooth for me ............

And somewhere around there I fell asleep on top of her and I slept hard and deep - don't remember dreaming a thing, except late that night - like really late - when it's the darkest - I wake up to this slurping, like loud slurping sounds and more moaning and then I realize I'm hard as a rock and she's sucking on my cock and I reaches down and push her head into my crotch and she just moans real low and takes it to the root and the next thing I know I'm working her throat and bitch doesn't have a gag reflex at all but then I pull her off and I look at her - and I can barely see her in the dim light thrown by the cable box and her computer, and I see her face is wet, like maybe she's been crying and it's all coming back to me, and I'm less fucked up, but still a little buzzed, and I'm thinking I need to figure this out, except if feels so good, and even though the bitch has a moustache and facial hair, I swear to god the way she wears it is like she's got a mouth-vagina - she looks all woman to me - but I'm thinking this is pretty fucked up, plus all that beer, and so I push her off of me, and crawl out of the bed and say, "Gotta fucking pee."

And I can't find the toilet so I just piss in the sink and I'm looking at my shadow in the mirror but I don't see me - I don't see a father or a husband - I see a stud - a dude who's loving every minute of the last six hours, and who wants more of this shit with his twisted son who's now his daughter, and my chest puffs up and I still look good for 52, I think, and fuck, if I worked on it a bit, for that bitch out there, I could look even better, and my cock is now hard as rock and all I can think about is getting her pretty pouty lips around it to see how good she is at giving head, and so I come back to the bedroom and stand at the end of the bed and she's lying a little under the covers like she's scared or has been crying or something, and like she's hiding something, and I don't have time for this emotional shit, but I figure I better let her know I'm game, so I snap my fingers and say, "Suck it, babygirl."

Just like that. And she just lies there and her eyes get big and I nod at her and say it again. "Suck it, honey - daddy needs his cock sucked, now."  And she just crawls out from under the covers and damn if this bitch - my own fucking son, mind you – hasn't put on garters and fishnet stockings while I'm sleeping, and these hot fucking panties with her ass hanging out and she crawls down to the end of the king bed, ass up, legs spread, and I swear to god I'm wondering why she isn't wearing a top, because she'd be prettier in a nice lace nighty, and I look down at her and I never seen her so happy, lips on my cock, tears falling from her eyes, tongue lapping at my pre-cum, licking under my foreskin, worshipping and making love to my cock, which feels about ten feet long and about the biggest it's ever felt in my life, and I grab her hair nice and firm and tight and I yank back her head and I say, "You're not my son. You will never be my son again, Bailey. Understand?"

"Yes, daddy," she says, knowing exactly what I mean - knowing that I'm not being cruel, I'm just stating a fact: that she's my daughter now, and always will be.

"Good girl, Bailey - that's daddy's good girl - now suck daddy's cock so he can go back to sleep."

And she doesn't say anything - she just keeps her eyes on mine, like she's worshipping me or something, and she pushes the cock into her throat and begins to give me the best fucking blow-job I've ever gotten. Ever. In my life. Better than I ever imagined you could get your cock sucked – like you died-and-went-to-heaven cock sucking, is how good it was.

And the best thing is I don't got to do nothing – I could tell she was happy as a fucking clam, lapping on my cock and just wanted me to stand there and enjoy it, so I did just that – stood there and enjoyed it - let her go at it for a while, feeling her velvet throat, and allowing her to show me her skills, and it's amazing, and the balls start to boil so I begin to help her out, fucking into her throat, then grabbing her hair again and I swear to God the rougher I treat her, the more she moans - the more she slurps - the more she's into it, so I start fucking her face and I'm loving it and she's drooling and her face is all wet and I wonder why she's not wearing lipstick and I'm gonna have to talk to her about that sometime tomorrow, too, but for now it's about throat fucking, so I go for it, but realize I want to get deeper and see if she's got limits, just to make sure I can do whatever the fuck I want with her holes, so I pull out, and flip her over, and pull her head over the side of the bed and stick it back in and play with her big muscle-titties which she loves, like I found her joy button, because I go as deep as I want and she takes it and meanwhile her legs are spread and swear to God, she's paying with her cunt, sticking her fingers into it and playing with it just like a girl does, and whatever she's wearing is covering her business but there still ain't nothing there, which fucking amazes me and I realize she must just have a clit or something, and I'm wondering why I'm even worried about it, so I stop, and I squeeze her big nipples real hard and her legs fly open, which was my plan, so I bend over and grab her legs and stick my face in her cunt, where her fingers are and she

goes

fucking

nuts

You can't hear nothing because I'm fucking her other pussy – her mouth pussy - and she's taking it like a whore - like a trained whore for cock - she doesn't miss a beat - I fuck her throat like I fuck an actual cunt while I make love to her real pussy – and I love it - it tastes better than my wife's - much, much better - and I suck my cum out of it and she's just working her hips like I'm God's gift to mankind while I'm beating her throat with my baseball bat and then, while I have my tongue so deep in her hole, I pound out another load, finally making her choke but not giving a damn at all - just telling her to take it -

"Take it honey," I hum into her pussylips. "Take daddy's cum - taste it - this is your job now, baby girl - stop choking and swallow it baby."

And she does - fuck does she - and I swear to god she came by me eating her out – her hole started twitching and pumping like when you're coming but I'm certain it was an asspussygasm `cuz I didn't feel anything from her lace-covered clit, just her hole twitching like I made her cum by licking it and shoving her full of cock, and I could tell she loved every fucking minute of it.

"Ummpphumphumphhhhhumphhhh," she groaned, as her hips twitched and I drained my nut again - this time in her belly.

Eventually I pulled up off of her and let her just suck and nuzzle my cock, tasting the last of the seed - letting her get used to the taste so she would want more – maybe fall in love with it, or something, like need it – fuck, I don't know, I was filled with all these crazy sleazy thoughts, like stuff I never thought of before, but now couldn't stop thinking about.  She was down on her knees eventually, and I was sitting on the bed, stroking her head while she sucked my half limp cock, sucking more of my seed onto her tongue, eyes on me all the time.

I loved the way she looked in her stockings and panties. I couldn't wait to get her a nighty to go with it. I was overcome, frankly, in that moment as my cock got all hard again. But, we needed rest - needed to sleep -

"Such a beautiful girl," I said to her, caressing her cheek. "Daddy's beautiful little girl. Daddy's little Princess,"

Then I slipped back in bed, held out my hand to her, and pulled her off her knees. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her smaller but really tight frame into my larger, bulkier one, and nuzzled into her ear.

"Daddy's beautiful little Princess," I cooed, pushing my cock into her wet hole, which accepted it easily.

"Ooooooh," she gurgled, pushing back into me.

"Next time, sweetie, wear a nighty," I said, falling back to sleep.

"Yes Daddy," she said, clutching down on my cock with her cunt-muscles, massaging my pole as I fell into my second sleep – a deeper and more peaceful sleep – unlike any I had in years.

When I woke up again the bed was empty. It had to be mid-day. I felt more relaxed than I can remember feeling in a long time. The bed had the smell of sex on it, but when I turned I could smell the faint hint of perfume coming from her pillow. She really was just a girl, it seemed.

My mind should have been racing, but really all I had was a few questions. I wondered if she was trans, and for a moment that worried me, but then I realized I was being stupid - I mean, I already considered her a girl. If she needed to be a true girl, then I would happily help her get there. I mean - she barely had a cock anyway. I couldn't recall seeing it all night.  But if she was trans that didn't explain the facial hair - so I was pretty confused by it all, except the fact it was the best fuck I'd had in my life and now that I wasn't buzzed I wanted more.

Because my cock was hard again – and not just `morning-hard' but `fuck, let's get some more pussy' hard. I heard her in the kitchen, trying to be quiet. I smelled the coffee. I wondered if she was gonna serve me breakfast in bed. But the more I laid there and the more rested I felt, the less I wanted to wait. So I got up and snuck down the hall, bare feet, to check in on my girl.

She was in the kitchen at the stove. She'd changed again. This time she was wearing a pink nighty (like I'd told her to) and frilly pink lace panties with a slit up the back for easy access. Her stockings were a gauzy, pinkish white, and she'd put on a pair of stilettos that were totally wrong for the kitchen but that lifted her ass up perfectly. My cock - which had been hard anyway - started to rage. Precum oozed out of the hooded head.

Just as she was about to crack some eggs, I said, "Morning Princess."

She gasped, turning, looking at me - then she looked away. It was like I caught her being her true self - and even though, after last night, there should be no shame between us, it reared its head now.

"Morning daddy," she whispered, looking at the stove.

I kind of wished she would just get me a cup of coffee and then take care of my cock, but I realized I was still her father, and she probably needed some support. And I was proud of her, believe it or not - for being brave and for being who she was.

I approached her from behind, gently touching her silk-strapped shoulders, pushing my cock between her legs. She flinched a little. It was as if the light of day made her realize the depth of transformation in front of her actual father - as if she worried I might reject her.

"Shhh sweetheart," I cooed. "It's okay. Daddy loves you." 

She moaned a little, but then I heard her whisper, "Are you sure you aren't mad?" But when she did that, she pushed back into me, and it was as much a vixen move as it was an offspring move.

"Are you trans, honey?" I asked, putting my hands on her muscled breasts, massaging them tenderly.

"Nooo," she cooed, shaking her head - trying to clearly communicate through her sluttish interior. "I'm just a boy that likes to dress up like a girl . . . be a girl."

"I see," I said, pulling my cock back and letting it rub up against her wet slit. This made her shudder. "You're a girl to me, honey. You always will be after last night. You'll be a girl to me forever."

I pushed against her hole, teasing it.

"I always wanted a daughter," I said simply, slipping just the head inside her cunt.

And that was the truth. We'd had two sons and my wife had drawn the line. I wanted to go one more time, but she'd had enough, and the last birth had been difficult. Now my dream had come true. I pinched her nipples and she ground into me, making unnatural sounds. I looked down at her neck and saw the scar I'd left last night. It was more than just a scratch. I kissed it, gently, and said, "I'm sorry about this, Baby-Girl - I didn't mean to hurt you -"

"I loved it, daddy - so much - I like it like that," she gasped, shaking now, and barely whispering, revealing more secrets. "Rough."

"Do you?" I said, still teasing her hole, lubing it with my pre, and feeling last night's cum drip out around the head.

"Yes, daddy - I do. Your daughter's a whore, daddy - I'm sorry about that, too." She started to cry now, real tears, as if the total burden was off her lace-clad body.

I decided to drive through her shame right then. I took a long sniff of her neck, and said, "I love your perfume, honey," as I drove my cock all the way to the hilt. Her cry was delicious, nearly piercing. My balls were churning again and this was gonna be a quick one. Plus, I needed to show her that I liked the way she was - liked the way she'd turned out, liked the fact that she was a girl - liked the fact that she liked it rough.

I liked the fact that she was a whore.

I ground into her smaller frame and pushed her over the granite counter, knocking over the salt and pepper shakers, but not giving a damn. I needed to unload so I could think straight - start planning our new relationship and, I was hoping, our new life. This was my bitch and even though I got a hint that she had more than her share of older men on a string, only one man was gonna hold her rope.

"Oh, Daddy," she yelped, as I drove into her wet cunt, which was already making pussy noises with my first few lunges. I was gonna seed her good this morning to make sure my boys kept her insides nice and juicy.

"Just take it, baby - just let daddy enjoy his new whore - just take my cock and cum, Bailey-Girl," I puffed, picking up steam. The high heels ended up being a great idea, because they lifted her cunt to just the right level. She reached back and spread her gorgeous cheeks and I could see my foamy cock sawing her puffy lips. It really was a cunt, looking at it that way - really was shaped like a slit.

The kitchen was filled with her moans as I sawed into her, opening her up again and getting ready to unleash another flood of cum in her womb. "Better put you on the pill, honey," I said, beginning to jerk inside her. "We don't want you to get pregnant."

"Yessir," she cried, while I pumped her uterus with my seed. I'm pretty sure she thought I was playing the fantasy – not being serious - but I was being serious. I figured the extra jolt of monthly estrogen would do her some good – maybe make her even more girlish and sluttish and compliant.

I slammed in the last few shots, banging her head against the fancy back-splash, matching her moans with my groans, making sure I planted the cum as deep as possible. Eventually my cock flopped out of her and like a good slut, she slipped down on her knees, licking me clean, tasting the DNA that had made her what she was today. She relished it, and her eyes were filled with love and appreciation both for being allowed to slut in such a primal way, and for my wholehearted embrace of our taboo.  My head was clearer now. Much clearer. I just looked at her like an object for a moment, making my plans. I was there for a whole week and I was going to take full advantage of the opportunity. Yes, she was my daughter and on the one hand I would have to show her love and support and compassion during our time together. But, she was also a skilled and randy high-end hooker, and I was going to get every piece of that whore that I could, given the lack of sex I'd had in recent years, even though I still felt like I was in my prime.

She kept nursing my cock and I understood she was waiting for me to make the next move. It was an important lesson that I learned in that moment - that not only did she need a man to take charge, but that she wanted a man to take charge. (Hell, I told her I wanted her to wear a nighty, and she'd gone ahead and put one on, first thing in the morning. It was dawning on me that she wanted me for more than just my cock; she wanted me to be her father, she wanted me to be her man, and she wanted me to be her boss.

I nodded for her to keep going and then I asked her a question: "How long, honey? how long have you been a girl?"

"High school," she said, licking the tip of my cock, batting her eyes. "But really it was college where I . . . started."

"When you were a cheerleader?" I asked. It was all making sense now.

She nodded, looking down.

"Did you whore for the teams?" I asked, pulling my cock out of her mouth.

She looked away. "Yes, daddy - when the girls wouldn't put out - it felt so mean to me - so I . . . I just . . .  well, I think men should . . . you know. . . "

"Get what they want," I said, stating it as fact.

She just looked up at me, full of love, nodding.

My path was clear.

I patted her head.

"I'm going back to bed, Princess," I said, sternly, but with love. "I want breakfast in bed, eggs and bacon, but coffee now - you know how I take it. Then you can suck on daddy's cock and make him shoot again while he eats. I want you to really taste my cum this time, so you get used to it and so you want more of it, okay, honey-girl?"

"Yes, daddy," she whispered, almost in a trance. It made me wonder how long she had desired me in this way - how long she had fantasized about me.

"Then we're going shopping for more outfits and I want you to get your nails done, too. I'll pay.

I turned and left her there, on her knees. The tears were flowing now - tears of joy.

Just as I hit the hall, I turned and looked down at her, cock rising, arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh - and a few more things. After coffee, I want you in makeup. I know you have some - daddy snooped in your bathroom. And, you can say goodbye to the facial hair, girl. We're going out tonight and you're gonna be my date and you need to pass 100%. Daddy doesn't want everyone to think he's into tranny-hookers. I'm straight - you'll be my woman tonight."

"Yes, daddy."

I turned and left her there.

((((()))))

After my youngest son graduated high school, I divorced my wife. We had grown apart. It was amicable. She was thrilled that I moved in with Bailey, but surprised when I walked away from a lucrative career in manufacturing.

But, Bailey is my wife now. We're even getting married, once she changes her name to hide her true identity as my offspring. It turns out that "Studio Boy" is just a fancy name for a certain kind of Hollywood whore, and after I learned she was actually hooking, I told her I needed to run her business and no one else. She readily agreed. It's a unique and target market, but a highly lucrative one. It gets a little complex everyone once and a while, being her father and husband and pimp all at the same time, but we're in couple's counselling with an open-minded cross-dresser and she (the therapist) helps us out when things get gnarly.

I don't mind Bailey's whoring. I can't fuck her nearly as much as she needs to get fucked and the money is fantastic. I've taught her how to invest and we just brought a home together in Palm Springs. Lately we've been going to parties as a couple, looking to recruit a new wave of boy-girls and twinks and musclebutts to meet the needs of our growing and discreet clientele.

The most difficult discussion we've had has to do with her cock. I never did see it during my first visit there, but our therapist insisted that I take a look. I resisted, mightily, but she laid down the law. So, at a special session in her home, for which she charged a pretty penny, Bailey finally pulled down her panties and showed me what she had - or didn't, as the case may be. It was . . . . well, it was shocking, actually, how small it was. Bailey was horrified to have to reveal this to me, and I nearly started laughing, but I knew that was against the ground-rules.

Until our therapist lost it completely, and started giggling uncontrollably. It was so inappropriate, and she admitted that - but she couldn't help herself. Once the therapist started laughing, I couldn't help myself, either – laughed my ass off. It was honestly the funniest thing I had seen in a long time, it was so tiny.

Bailey just bowed her head in shame.

Finally, after the laughs, the therapist went over to her, hugging her. "I'm sorry baby - I'm sorry honey - that was wrong. It just - I mean - honey . . . "

She looked at me, seeking help. I had none to give. (But, I suddenly realized why his mom's side of the family was so light in the loafers – shit, those boys clearly didn't have anything to anchor them down. Bailey sure as hell didn't get that nub from me – I got a big damn cock, nearly ten and thick as a brick.)

Then the therapist stepped back and made a declaration: "You need to get rid of that. You can make a vagina there. It would be better. I know a surgeon. It will cost a lot of money, but it's worth every penny."

Then she lifted her skirt and dropped her own underwear. "See? Mine was at least three times as big as yours, but I still cut it off. Now I have two cunts."

I walked over, putting my hand on her muff - probing it. That was probably inappropriate, but I didn't give a fuck. I wanted to see what I could have if Bailey got another hole down there.

"Bailey, I think she's right. We should just give you another vagina. But, the decision is yours. What do you think?"

Bailey didn't move. She just looked up at me, more love in her eyes than I had ever seen.

"What do you want, daddy?"

"I want another cunt to fuck, honey, that's what I want."

"Then, yes," she said. "I've always hated my penis anyway."

We scheduled the appointment that afternoon.

Business took off after that. Talk about target market - but dudes who want to fuck dudes with a cunt will pay just about anything to do it. Bailey and I should be able to retire in two to three years.

Then Tim can take over the family business.