Taboo Confessionals: The Surrogate Wife and the Perfect Daughter

by Jyger85 -- http://deviantart.com/jyger85

I was 17 when my mother got sick. I don't really remember exactly what she had, but I remember that she could barely leave the bed at all, and was resting a lot of the time. And my father...well, he worked hard for us, but he had trouble taking care of himself, let alone the house. So, while my mother was sick, I was essentially doing her job. I was running her errands, doing her chores, and looking after my father. And I didn't mind, I swear I didn't mind. I always prided myself as being the perfect daughter, Daddy's little girl, and this was another chance for me to prove it.

I always did my best, during those five months, to do everything that I could for my dad. I cooked him breakfast and supper, I did his laundry, and I did my best to keep him entertained so that he wouldn't fall into a depression while my mother was barely even alive anymore. But about three months in, just a little after my 18th birthday, I noticed he was feeling down. Not just depressed, but kind of agitated. Very agitated, actually. I couldn't figure out what it was. I thought maybe I was doing something wrong, but he wasn't complaining about anything I was doing or showing any sort of dissatisfaction with it.

It wasn't until around the end of the month that I figured out what was wrong, and honestly, it was completely by accident. I'd just come home from school and was looking to get some stuff done before Dad got home, when I noticed that there was a sound coming from his and Mom's room. It sounded like some kind of heavy breathing. At first, I thought maybe there was something wrong with my mother, so, without thinking, I just opened the door to their room. Before I could get even a word out, my throat went dry, and I just stood there, staring at my father standing at my sleeping mother's side, his pants down around his ankles, and his penis in his hand.

So...admission time. I'd actually seen my dad's dick before. A few times, actually. I was young, I was curious, and...he was my dad. He was my favourite guy in the whole world, not that there were many others in my life. And, before my mom got sick, I'd actually caught glimpses of them having sex once or twice. It's not my fault, they did it A LOT. And it was upon remembering that fact, and seeing my dad like that, that I realized what had been bothering him so much: He'd been used to having sex pretty much whenever he wanted. Which was fine, because...well, second admission time, before they met and fell in love, my mom was...kind of the hypersexual, promiscuous type. But now she couldn't do this for him, and it was getting to be too much.

Neither of us said anything when I caught my father like that. I just slowly left and went back to my room. I think I sat on my bed, just staring up at my ceiling for a good three hours or so, wondering what to do with what I'd seen. Catching my dad rubbing one out over my mom's unconscious body seemed so unlike something he'd do, and yet, I knew exactly why he felt pushed to having to do something like that. He wasn't getting it anywhere else. Finally, I gave my cheeks a quick, soft clap and got up off of my bed. I knew what had to be done, and I was going to see it through.

After I got changed into one of my favourite nighties, I went to go find my dad. He was sitting alone in the living room, looking pitiful. He didn't even really acknowledge me being there until I walked out in front of him, at which point I noticed his face turn really red, even redder than it'd been when I caught him. We didn't say anything. We didn't have to. We knew what we were thinking just from our eyes. His eyes were full of need and shame. He knew what he wanted, what he needed, but he couldn't bring himself to ask. I was his daughter, after all. And mine were full of duty and resilience. It didn't matter to me how wrong other people might think this was, I was going to do what I had to. I was his daughter, after all.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, but after a while, I finally made my move. I slowly eased myself into my dad's lap, kneeling onto the couch, and wrapped my arms around the back of his neck. I began to rub my lap up against his, licking his ear softly. I wasn't surprised when I felt his penis start to poke me. I'd seen Mom do this before. Before he could say anything, I slipped a hand down and fished his cock out, letting it rub against me, and I watched his eyes widen as he realized I wasn't wearing any panties. But he was still resisting, so I decided that the only way to help him was to break his resilience.

"...Fuck me, Daddy," I whispered in his ear, rubbing my labia against his penis. "Fuck me like Mommy."

I felt him shudder underneath me as I whispered those words. Finally, he couldn't take anymore, and before I knew it, I was being lifted up and then brought down on Daddy's dick. I let out a whimper as he pushed himself deep inside me, but I did my best to keep it as brief as possible. I needed to do this for him, and he might've stopped if he felt like I was in a lot of pain. All too soon, though, I felt him starting to thrust inside, dragging himself across my walls, and stretching me out wider. I just sat there, straddling his lap, and clung to him tightly, all the while his hands rubbed and groped my butt.

I tried my best not to let it be known when I felt him take my maidenhood. I'm not even sure exactly when it happened. I just know I felt something tear horribly, and I clung even tighter to him, resting my chin on his shoulder and trying not to let him see the tears running down my face. I wasn't going to let him stop, no matter what. And it turned out to be the right call, because not long after, the pain started to fade. I could feel his hands exploring my most sensitive of places, and his cock rubbed up against the source of my greatest pleasure, and suddenly, it was like my body was on fire. And I'm guessing all those lusty moans must've gotten to him, too, because he started to speed up inside me.

"Honey, I'm...I'm gonna...!" my dad started to groan as I watched his body start to lock up.

"It's okay...!" I whimpered, kissing him on the nose. "You can cum inside, I don't care!"

That was more than he could take. It was barely ten seconds later that I felt Daddy arrive inside of me, with a load so huge I thought I might actually burst. Feeling my insides filled to such amounts, I let out a shrill cry and experienced my first orgasm at the hands of something other than my own fingers. After that, I rested my head on his chest, and we both just stayed there, unable to move or speak or even think. We were both wide awake, but we might as well have been asleep.

After that, everything changed. Almost every night after, my father and I would have sex, and every single time, we did it a little bit differently. Sometimes, he'd be slow and soft, and others, he'd take me like a man possessed. Sometimes, I was quiet and demure, and others, I'd be little more than his whore. We did it in different positions, used different tactics, and used different rooms. Every time was a new experience, and I loved every single one.

Unfortunately, it couldn't last. After a while, my mother finally pulled out of her illness and was back on her feet. In fact, when it was over, it was like she was renewed. She had even more vitality to her. I know because...well, our house has thin walls. She congratulated me on a job well done in her absence, and even though I never once told her what happened between Dad and I, sometimes, when they were together, she'd give me this almost apologetic look, like she was sorry she took him away from me. But I never had any regrets. They were my parents, and I would do anything for them. If he was the one who was bedridden, I’d have done the same thing for her. And I'd always have the memories of those five months when I was more than just the perfect daughter, but the surrogate wife.