Dad Begs and Son Runs Away

Fully conscious, dad grabbed my hands and had them rub over his breasts.

“I am the prettiest girl,” dad said. “And I need to be your girl son. I want to be your bitch, please make me into it.”

“See,” the duchess said. “You want him to be your bitch, and he wants you to use him all the ways you wish.”

“Shut up,” I said to the duchess, but she disappeared.

“Okay, daddy,” my father moaned. His cock was getting harder and harder in the panties I’d slid onto him.

He was rather slim and pretty, and I leaned in close. His arms reached out and grabbed me close to him. His hard cock was rubbing through the panties. My own cock was hard.

He whispered into my ear:

“Go on son, do anything with me. I want to be your bitch. You woman. Your lover, your girl, Make daddy your wife. Fuck daddy hard anyway you want. Slap my mouth with your cock, make me suck it. Frot me if you want. Pump your semen deep into daddy’s ass .. try to knock me up. Do whatever with me, but son I need to be yours….

Part of me wanted to kiss him, to do what he said, but the other part of me was scared.

“Dad, no,” I said, “this is all too weird. Something about this hotel is making us do these wrong things.”

“It feels too right to be wrong,” dad said. “I’m a hot bitch in front of you begging you to fuck me, who cares that I’m your dad…”

“I can’t,” I said and ran out of the room. Through the corner of my eye I saw the duchess approach my father, but I couldn’t tell what more was going on. I ran to a wing of the hotel I hadn’t been in yet-- a part with a chapel.

I sat down in a pew, but soon felt that I wasn’t alone. I looked up to see a woman.