Dad wanted me to get married as a virgin

Dad is a traditional man. He believes that a woman has to be married as a virgin, obey her husband and all that shit. When my friends became of age, their dad's made sure to take care of their sexual needs. As for me, it was a struggle because of the virginity issue, I had started befriending a certain boy when dad came up with a solution. He'd give me pleasure in the ass, that way my needs would be taken care of while maintaining my virginity. Almost each morning this is the routine.

Today, I wake to the familiar pressure of his hand on my shoulder, the creak of my bedroom door, the dim light from the hallway cutting a thin blade across my floor. My heart kicks, every morning the same, but now it's a flutter of anticipation, a warm pulse between my thighs. I don't move at first, letting him think I'm still asleep, savoring the moment.

"Time to wake, my pure one," he murmurs, his voice that low gravel I've come to crave. His hand slides down, cups my cheek for a second. A father's touch. Then it moves lower.

The blanket is pulled away. The cool air hits my bare thighs, making my skin prickle. I wear a thin cotton nightgown, the one my mother sewed for me, pale and modest, but it bunches up around my waist as I roll onto my stomach, eager. My face presses into the pillow. I can smell the lavender sachet Mom tucks beneath it. A comfort smell that now mingles with the musk of what's coming.

His hands grip my hips, rough and calloused, and I feel a shiver run through me. I'm already wet, a slickness that started when I heard his footsteps in the hallway. I spread my legs wider, offering myself. I hear his belt unbuckle, the slide of his zipper. Then the blunt, warm press of his lubed cock against my asshole. I push back slightly, eager.

He pushes in. A burning stretch that I've grown to love, the intrusion filling me completely. My fingers curl into the sheets, a moan escaping my lips, muffled by the pillow. He groans, low and long, his hips pressing flush against my cheeks. He holds there a moment, and I clench around him, drawing him deeper.

Then he moves. A steady, grinding rhythm. Each thrust shoves me forward, the headboard tapping the wall in a rhythmic beat. His hand snakes under me, between my thighs, his calloused fingers pressing against my pussy. I'm soaked. He feels it, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"So wet already," he whispers against my ear, his breath hot. "My little pure one. You've been waiting for this, haven't you?"

I nod, a desperate whimper escaping me. His fingers find my clit, slick and swollen, and he rubs in firm, practiced circles. A jolt of pleasure shoots through me, and I cry out, my hips bucking back against his thrusts.

"That's it," he mutters, his voice thick with approval. "Take it. Feel it."

His thrusts become faster, harder, his breathing ragged. I'm lost in the dual sensations—his cock stretching my ass, his fingers working my clit. The pressure builds in my core, a tight coil ready to snap. My pussy clenches around nothing, aching for more, but his fingers are relentless, pushing me higher.

"I'm gonna cum," I gasp, my voice breaking.

"Good girl. Let go."

His fingers press harder, his rhythm quickening, and the world shatters. My orgasm crashes through me, hot and violent, my body convulsing around his cock. I moan into the pillow, my thighs trembling, my pussy dripping onto his hand. He groans, his own release pulsing inside me, a hot flood that triggers another wave of pleasure. I clench around him, milking every drop.

He collapses over my back for a second, his weight crushing, his breath hot on my neck. Then he pulls out. The emptiness makes me gasp, a trickle of warmth sliding down my inner thigh. He zips up, pats my hip, and stands.

"Clean up. Your mother has breakfast ready."

I hear his footsteps retreat down the hall. I lie there, face still buried in the lavender pillow, a lazy smile spreading across my lips. My body hums with satisfaction, my pussy still slick and throbbing. I clench my thighs together, savoring the lingering pleasure.

Mom knocks gently, then enters. She sets a warm washcloth on the nightstand. Her hand strokes my hair for a moment.

"You're glowing, baby. Did he take care of you?"

"Yes, Mama," I murmur, my voice dreamy.

She smiles, a knowing look in her eyes. "Good. You're so precious to us. We just want the best for you."

I roll over, catching her hand. "I know. I love you both."

She leans down, kisses my forehead. "I know, sweetheart. Now come eat. You need your strength."

I stretch, feeling the pleasant ache in my ass, the lingering dampness between my thighs. I'm happy. I'm loved. And I can't wait for tomorrow morning. I go to school, have a normal day learning and come back home to sleep.

The next day morning, I stretch in bed, the sheets cool against my skin, already anticipating his footsteps. My body hums with need, my pussy wet before he even touches me.

He comes in, same as always. His hand on my shoulder, the soft click of the door closing. But today, something feels different. His eyes are heavy, a shadow of worry in them. He doesn't speak at first, just turns me onto my stomach, pulls my nightgown up. I’m already slick, my ass clenching in anticipation.

He lubes himself. I hear the squirt of the bottle, the wet sound of his hand stroking his cock. I arch my back, presenting myself, ready.

He positions himself, the blunt head pressing against my asshole. I push back, eager to take him. But this time, I’m too wet. The head slips, slides down, and then—

A sudden, shocking pressure against my pussy. The head nudges my entrance, and before either of us can react, he pushes forward. A hot, thick intrusion into my virgin hole. I gasp, a sharp cry, my body jolting. It's different. So much tighter, so much more sensitive. The sensation floods through me—a burning stretch that makes my eyes water, but also a wave of raw pleasure I've never felt before.

He freezes. "Fuck," he hisses, his voice strained. "I'm sorry, I—" He tries to pull out, but I clamp down, my inner walls gripping him. I don't want him to leave. The feeling is too good, too intense.

"Don't," I whisper, my voice trembling. "Please, Daddy. Stay."

He hesitates. I can feel his cock pulsing inside me, buried deep in my cunt. A gush of my own wetness slicks him. He groans, a low, tortured sound. "I shouldn't... I'm supposed to keep you pure."

But even as he says it, his hips twitch, pushing a fraction deeper. If I had any virginity, it's gone. I moan, my fingers digging into the mattress. My pussy clenches around him, hungry, desperate.

"Fuck me, Daddy," I beg. "Fuck my pussy. Please."

He lets out a ragged breath. Then his hands grip my hips, and he starts to move. Slow at first, testing, each thrust sending sparks through my core. My virginity is gone, the thin barrier torn in that first accidental breach. But I don't care. This is what I want. This is what I need.

His pace quickens. The room fills with the wet sounds of our bodies slapping together. I'm dripping, my juices running down my thighs. He hits a spot deep inside that makes me see stars. I cry out, my body arching.

"You're so tight," he groans, his voice thick with pleasure and anguish. "So tight, baby."

He fucks me harder, his balls slapping against my clit. The pressure builds, coiling in my belly. I'm close, so close. His hand snakes under me, finds my swollen clit, and rubs in rough circles.

"Come for me," he commands. "Let it go."

The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave. I scream into the pillow, my body convulsing, my pussy spasming around his cock. I feel a gush of fluid release from me—hot, powerful—soaking his thighs, the sheets. I'm squirting, my cum spraying as I clench and shudder.

He watches, mesmerized. "Wow," he mutters, his rhythm faltering. "Look at you... so beautiful."

I'm still trembling when he pulls out, he parts my butt cheeks and I feel his hot cum splash on my asshole. But he's not done. He's panting, his cock still hard, slick with my juices and his own. He grabs my hips, flips me onto my back. His eyes are wild, torn.

"I've failed," he says, his voice breaking. Tears well in his eyes—genuine tears of shame and regret. "I was to keep you pure. And I've ruined you."

I reach up, cup his cheek. "No, Daddy. Your cock in my pussy is just... I like it."

He shakes his head, a sob catching in his throat. But his cock doesn't soften. It stands thick and veined, the tip glistening. He looks at me, my body spread open, my pussy swollen and dripping, and I see the conflict warring in his face.

Then he gives in.

He climbs onto me, positions himself between my legs. His cock finds my entrance again, sliding in with a slick, wet sound. He pushes deep, burying himself to the hilt. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

He fucks me again, slower this time. Each thrust is deliberate, heavy with emotion. His tears fall on my face, mingling with my own. But his hips keep moving, driven by a need he can't control.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against my lips. "I'm so sorry."

But he doesn't stop. He fucks me until I come again, my second orgasm ripping through me, my pussy clenching around him. He follows soon after, spilling his seed deep inside me, a final, defiant act.

We lie there, tangled, breathing hard. His tears are dry now, but his eyes are hollow. He strokes my hair, a gesture of tenderness that feels wrong and right all at once.

"Tomorrow," he says quietly, "we pretend this never happened. You're still a virgin. Understand?"

I nod, my cheek pressed to his chest. But I know the truth. And I know he'll fuck my pussy tomorrow, and the day after. Because he needs this as much as I do.