I am sending you my real-life experiences. And thank you for the wonderful site. I thought I would have to keep this secret to myself.
I am in love my father and want his baby. Does that sound revolting, disgusting? Well if you had the kind of feelings that I had for my dad and the kind of relationship that I share with him, you would neither be revolted nor be disgusted.
I am a 23-year-old Indian girl living in Delhi. I fell in love with my father when I was an impressionable 15 and by 17 I had my sexual experience with him and we have been lovers ever since. Neither of us looked elsewhere for gratification because we never felt the need for it. I knew deep inside me, that if I had not been his daughter, I would have married him and given him children.
Because today, six years later at the age of 23, he has groomed, nurtured and almost matured me into believing that I am the wife, he so sorely misses having around him. In a sense I am the surrogate wife. I feed him, look after his needs, physical and material, and travel with him. I'm with him almost every minute of the day.
My father and I share a unique relationship. But let's start at the beginning. Ever since I could swim, my dad and I would usually take a dip in our pool when he got back home from work. I guess I fell in love with my dad, when I was an eight-year old in pigtails, I always admired his strength, when he swam strong, steady laps across the pool. I guess all children love their parents in some strange sort of way, and I did too. But those feelings changed into something totally sexual by the time I was 16. By the time I was 18, I was well and truly on the way to becoming my father's 'mistress; Mind you, I have no regrets whatsoever, because I have never been happier. I just have to be around him and I am happy. I am so completely besotted by him that I also mustered up enough courage one day to tell him that I wanted to have his baby. He, of course, wouldn't hear of it...but I am getting ahead of my story.
Quite often as a kid, when my dad emerged from the pool, I would see the bulge in his trunks and wondered what it was. By the age of 10, I knew what the bulge so cleverly concealed. Even as I admired my dad, I too was changing and by the time I was 16, I was 5'9", 36D, filled up in all the right places and suddenly realised that boys were giving me the look-And it wasn't just the boys, but the men too. So, back to the bulge. One day when he stepped out of the pool, the bulge was almost a rock and I couldn't help staring. He caught me staring and quickly wrapped a towel around himself. It should have embarrassed me, but I found myself waiting everyday to admire him that way.
I had also in the meanwhile, evinced interest in his work. Dad was an architect and a damn good at one that. I had heard people talking admiringly about his projects and it made me quite proud. Since mom always called me "her father's daughter" I guess it was natural that I would follow in his footsteps. By now dad had realized that I watched his every movement whenever he was in shorts and then one day it dawned on me that he was observing me with a little more than fatherly pride. This sexual electricity continued for two days before my 17th birthday, when I guess the inevitable happened.
Every day I went for a dip in the pool and usually spent some time there. The servants usually left in the afternoon and came back in the evening. Call it fate or whatever, but on this day dad came back home, though I didn't know about it. And since it was summer I decided, since I was alone, I stripped and slipped into the pool, blissfully unaware that I was being watched. I never knew he was up there in his room watching me.
He told me later he had planned to come home because my mom and sister had gone out of town for a wedding and wouldn't be back for the next couple of days. When I got back to my room, not knowing dad was home, I left the door unlocked. I pulled off the robe that I had worn into the house.
I had just picked up my towel to wipe myself when he walked in. I don't know who was more shocked. There I was standing stark naked and dad just stood and stared at me. He came up to me and I was genuinely scared of what would happen. But one thing I do remember very clearly was that my nipples became hard. Whether out of fear or excitement I don't know, but they were really hard.
He reached out and touched my breasts and I thought my nipples were going to pop out. I just let him run his hands all over me. I remember him pushing me back on the bed and him watching me as I lay there, legs open, breasts heaving in anticipation. He kept running his hands over me. It was like he couldn't get enough of me. He cupped my breasts, bent down and started sucking my nipples.
Call me sick or whatever you want, but I wanted him then and I let him run his hands all over me. After that I guess, there was no stopping us. He took all his clothes off and I touched him everywhere, admiring him. By then I was too far gone to stop myself. I too mustered up the courage and began to explore his body. I stroked his hips. While he sucked my breasts I reached down and took his penis, which was circumcised, in my hand and started to stroke it. I had done my usual bit of heavy petting with a few boy friends, so I was no novice, but I was surprised to see that he was circumcised. That was strange too, because in the Hindu religion men don't usually get circumcised. Somehow that has only increased the pleasure whenever we have sex. Since dad was nearly 6 feet and I was 5'9" we were perfect in bed. During all this time, not a word was spoken. He finally asked me to raise my hips and part my legs, told me it would hurt a little when he entered me. I just didn't care. All I wanted was to feel him inside me. I watched his handsome face as he his finger found my opening, lubricating me.
My arms snaked around his neck, brought his face down to mine and kissed him on the mouth. I think he was surprised for a second but then he was kissing me back. I guess whatever inhibitions we both had till that moment vanished.
I told him to take his finger out and reaching below guided his cock into me. He was so careful when he entered me that I just felt that slight twinge of pain. And right from the first time, he has guided me and made me enjoy the sex we had since then. The sex we had was so incredible. It was the first time in my life that I had an orgasm.
After that we spent the entire day in bed, exploring each other's bodies. I found that he was fascinated by my breasts especially since I was not yet 17. They were full and heavy with large nipples even then and he just loved to keep them in his palms. He wanted me to get on top and lower my breasts in his mouth and reach out and flick my nipples with his tongue. He said he loved to suck my big nipples and I still have an orgasm instantly when he does that!
The next day, in the evening and the night, all we did was fuck. When the cook left after making the evening meal, we stripped and had dinner, with me on his lap, feeding him as he ran his hands over me. Then we moved to the TV room where we fucked on the carpet.
From there we moved to his bedroom and his bed. He told me I was the first woman to lie on his bed. It was then he told me that mom and he had not had sex since my younger sister was born. They shared separate bedrooms ever since she was two years old. My mother had immersed herself in religion and religious books and really didn't care about sex anymore. She also didn't care if dad had his flings on the side as long as he kept the home fires burning. We later had a shower together, where his hands turned me on so much by their soaping and rubbing that I just sat on his penis and fucked him.
And that is a position we both enjoy a lot even today. Nobody knows about us, and mom is quite happy when dad goes out of town on work and takes me along. She thinks I take care good care of him. If only she knew how well.