Daddy Straightens me up 3

After I welcomed Jenni into my family for straightening, I become a little jelous. I am not sure if this is working at all.

The first few times after that day, it was like we all knew the rules without saying them. Jenni would come over after school, pretending she was just hanging out with me, but within ten minutes my brother would wander in, and then my dad would find an excuse to come home early. We’d end up in my room, the door locked, and it just became this routine—almost boring, except for how my body burned every time Dad touched me.

They’d switch off. Sometimes Dad would watch while my brother fucked me and I went down on Jenni. Sometimes he’d take Jenni from behind while my brother slid into me from the front, and I’d watch Dad’s cock slide in and out of her wet pussy, and my stomach would knot up with something that felt like anger and lust mixed together. Most times, though, Dad chose me. He’d spread my legs, look me in the eyes, and push into me slow, and I’d forget Jenni was even there. I’d forget my brother was jerking off in the corner. I’d just lie there and take it, moaning his name, feeling that stretch that only he could give me.

Jenni noticed. Of course she did. She’d be kneeling beside the bed, waiting for her turn, and I’d see her face go tight when Dad kept his pace inside me, stroking deeper, making me gasp so loud she couldn’t pretend not to hear. She’d try to touch me, kiss my neck, but I’d push her hand away. I didn’t want her then. I wanted him. All those months of thinking I was in love with her vanished the second Dad’s cock filled me up. Now I just felt jealousy—hot, ugly jealousy—every time she got what I wanted.

Yesterday was the worst. Dad had her bent over the edge of my bed, her ass in the air, and he was fucking her slow and deep, the way he usually does me. I sat on the floor, legs open, wet, and I watched his balls slap against her clit. My brother tried to get me to suck him off, but I just stared at the joining of her pussy and his cock. I wanted to claw her off him. I wanted to pull her hair and scream that she was stealing something that belonged to me. Yet at the same time I was so so so turned on.

When Dad came, he pulled out and pumped his cum onto her lower back, then looked at me. Not at her. At me. And that look—that possessive, hungry look—it made everything okay for a second. But then Jenni turned around, smiling, and asked if we could do it again tomorrow. I nodded, but inside I was already counting down the hours until I could have him alone. Just me and him. No brother. No Jenni. Just Dad’s cock splitting me open like he did Jenni until I couldn’t think of anyone else.

I stop inviting Jenni. I lie that she's busy with family stuff, that her mom's been piling on chores (her mom lives in another state with another man but who cares, fuck that bitch) , that she has a dentist appointment. The excuses come easy, and the men don't question them. My dad doesn't even mention her name. He just comes to my room after dinner, and I'm spread open under him, his cock sliding into me like it belongs there, like my pussy was built just for his shape.

Some nights my brother joins, but I notice he's getting less eager. He'll jerk off while Dad fucks me, then climb on and pump into me for a few minutes before pulling out and finishing on my stomach. He doesn't stay. He leaves to his room, and I hear him on his phone, whispering to some girl he met online. Twenty years older, I find out later. Thirty-eight. Divorced. He's into her, not into me or Jenni. That stings a little, but not enough to matter. Because when Dad's alone with me, I don't need anyone else.

The routine settles. Dad fucks me every night. Sometimes twice. He stretches me out, whispers things in my ear about how tight I am, how I'm his little girl and no one else's. I cum so hard I see stars. Sometimes I tell him fuck me as hard as you fucked Jenni. Is my pussy as good as Jennis and such things. Other times I forget about Jenni. I forget about the world. It's just him and me and the wet sounds of his cock plunging into my pussy.

But Jenni doesn't forget about me.

She corners me at school, in the hallway between third and fourth period. Her eyes are red. She grabs my arm and hisses, "What the hell, Nikki? You've been ghosting me for two weeks. You haven't invited me to the thing? Did I do something wrong?"

I try to brush her off, say I've been busy, but she's not buying it. She gets louder. People start staring. "You're lying. I know you're lying. Is it because your someone? You said you were okay with it!"

I am so glad she did not say it directly. I shush her, drag her into the empty art room. We stand there, both breathing hard. I want to tell her the truth—that I am messed up, I hate sharing him, that every time she touches him I want to claw her eyes out, yet nothing turns me on than his cock in her pussy—but instead I say, "I'm sorry. I've just been stressed. You didn't do anything. Let's hang out this weekend, okay? Let's do the thing this weekend."

She hugs me, relieved, and I feel like a monster.

That afternoon, I go to her house to apologize properly. I knock on the door, expecting Jenni. But it's her dad who opens it. Mr. Harrison. He's tall, broad-shouldered, with a gentle smile and tired eyes. He works late shifts, so I rarely see him.

"Hey, Nikki. Jenni said she was going to your place. Left about an hour ago."

The words hit me like a brick. She went to my place without telling me. My dad is home. My brother is at work. She must be talking to my dad. So they have been meeting secretly! The image of her on her knees in front of him, or bent over my bed, flashes through my head, and my stomach twists into a knot so tight I think I'm going to throw up.

"Is something wrong?" Mr. Harrison asks, frowning. "You look pale."

I don't answer. I step inside. The door clicks shut behind me. I look at him—really look at him. He's in a plain t-shirt and jeans, a little gray in his stubble. He's not my dad, but he's close. And right now, I need to hurt Jenni the way she's hurting me.

I step closer. He takes a step back. "Nikki? What are you—"

I drop to my knees. He freezes. I unzip his jeans. He says my name again, a warning, but his voice cracks. His cock is already half-hard, and when I pull it out, it's thick, veiny, bigger than I expected. I look up at him, and I see the conflict in his eyes—this is wrong, his daughter's best friend, a teenage girl—but I don't care.

I take him in my mouth, and he gasps. He says no, but his hips buck forward, and I know he's mine.

I suck him deep, tasting salt and skin, letting him hit the back of my throat. His hands grip my hair, and his protests die into ragged moans. "You're gonna make me cum," he gasps. "Nikki, I—"

I pull off just long enough to say, "Then cum in my mouth." And I take him again, swallowing every drop when he lets go. He shudders, trembling above me.

Then he pulls me up, kisses me—hard, desperate—and pushes me onto the couch. He pulls off my jeans and panties, buries his face between my legs, and eats my pussy like he's starving. His nose rubbing my clit as he eats me. I'm already wet from imagining Jenni with my dad, and his tongue sends me over the edge in minutes. I cum screaming daddy not sure whose daddy I am calling for.

He fucks me next. He's so much bigger than I thought. Fat and long, stretching me open wider than even my dad. He slides in slow, and I feel every inch, every vein. He fucks me deep, missionary, looking down at me with something between awe and hunger. I confess everything between moans—my dad, my brother, the foursome, the jealousy and the way it mixed up with being turned on—and his eyes widen, then darken.

"You've been keeping this from me?" He fucks me harder, slamming into me so hard the couch scrapes across the floor. "You've been letting him have you, but not me?"

I can't answer. I just take it. I cum again, my pussy clenching around his cock,

"Your dad is fucking my Jenni." He says.

"Daddy's cock is in Jenni's pussy right now." I say and he groans and fills me with his load, hot and thick. We lie there, panting. He kisses my forehead, then says, "I'm taking you home."

He drives me. I'm still full of his cum, my thighs sticky. When we pull up to my house, Jenni is walking out the front door, her hair messy, a satisfied smirk on her face. She sees me in her dad's car, and her smirk falters.

I step out. She walks toward me, eyes narrowing. I lean in close, my lips brushing her ear, and whisper, "Your dad's cock is so good."

Her face goes white, then red. "You fucking bitch." She shoves me, but I just laugh. Her dad gets out and tells her to calm down. She looks between us, realization dawning, and I watch her world shatter the same way mine did the day I saw her with my dad.

Mr. Harrison puts a hand on my shoulder. "Nice evening Nikki. It was nice talking to you."

Jenni screams, "Don't touch her! She's a liar!"

But I just smile and walk past her, into my house. Into my room. My dad is sitting on the sofa in my room. The bed is unmade. So he fucked her in my room. When he sees me, he doesn't ask where I've been. He just opens his arms. And I crawl into them, still wet, still burning.

"Did you have a good day?" he asks.

"Yeah," I say, pressing my face into his chest. Pretending I know nothing about his secret meeting with Jenni"But I missed you."

He tilts my chin up and kisses me. "You're my favorite, you know that."

And I nod, because I do. Tomorrow, Jenni will text me. She'll call me. She'll scream and cry. But tonight, I'm exactly where I want to be. About to be fucked by the cock that has just fucked Jenni. But he doesn't fuck me that night. Seems she drained his balls completely.

I wake up the next day to the familiar weight of my father's body against mine, his arm draped over my waist, his morning wood pressing into my lower back. I'm still half-asleep when he shifts, angling his hips, and slides into me from behind. I'm wet already—I don't know if it's from dreaming or just from being near him—and he sinks in with a low groan, his breath hot on my neck.

"Morning, baby," he murmurs, and starts to move.

I don't open my eyes. I just let the rhythm take me, slow and deep, his cock dragging against my walls, sending sparks through my half-conscious mind. He fucks me lazily, savoring it, and I cum without even trying, a soft moan escaping my lips as my body clenches around him. Maybe I am becoming actual slut because I come so fast and easy. I cum twice again as he fucks me, whispering in my ear how tight my pussy is. How he likes me being so slutty. How he thinks of me when fucking anyone else. (I know he means Jenni and Mom.) So I ask, is Jenni's pussy sweet? Instead of answering he cums, calling my name, pumping his load into me, then kisses my shoulder and pulls out.

"Get ready for school," he says, and leaves.

I lie there, his cum leaking onto the sheets, and stare at the ceiling. My phone buzzes. Jenni.

We need to talk. Cafeteria after first period.

School is a blur. First period drags. By the time I get to the cafeteria, Jenni's already there, sitting at our usual table, her eyes puffy. I sit down across from her. She doesn't say anything at first, just stares at me with this mix of anger and hurt.

"I talked to my dad," she finally says. "He told me everything."

I brace myself for a fight. But then her lips twitch into a small, reluctant smile. "He also said you're really good at doing the thing. Like, embarrassingly good."

I snort. "Thanks. I practice a lot."

She laughs, and it breaks the tension. We sit in silence for a moment, then she reaches across the table and takes my hand.

"I don't want to lose you," she says looking around. "You're my best friend." She lowers her voice to a whisper, "So here's the deal: no more sneaking around. If either of us wants to do something with the other's dad, we talk about it first. Both agree, or it doesn't happen."

I nod. "Deal."

She squeezes my hand and lowers her voice even further. "Good. Because my dad fucked me all night. Like, literally all night. I think I came ten times. Maybe more. Fucking a dad is so hot, I understand why you were mad about yours."

Jealousy twists in my gut. I am not sure I am jelous about sharing her or what. But I keep my face neutral. "That's... a lot."

"He wants me to have a baby, Nikki." Her voice drops to a even lower whisper. "He said he wants to see me pregnant with his child. That he's been thinking about it for years."

My breath catches. A baby. With her own dad. The thought is so taboo, so wrong, but a part of me—a dark, twisted part—feels a pang of envy. Her dad is divorced. He can give her that. He can fuck her all night. He can make her his forever. He can do things in a way my dad can't, because my dad has a wife, a life, a secret to keep.

"Don't do it," I say, my voice firmer than I feel. I would have totally done the opposite if I was her. Or if I could create my own island we could live there and both of us would get pregnant for our dad's. That is not possible. So my advise is from a place of jealousy. I don't even recognize myself anymore. "You're too young. You don't know what that means."

She shrugs, looking away. "I know. But it's hot, you know? The idea of carrying his baby. Being his forever girl."

Forever. The word sticks in my head.

"He tied me up last night," she adds, almost casually. "With a belt. He said he was punishing me for doing the thing with your someone. I couldn't move, that he could take me however he wanted. It was so intense, Nikki. I came just from him tying my wrists."

I swallow hard, my thighs pressing together under the table. "Tied up?"

"Yeah. I'll show you sometime, if you want."

That night, after dinner, dad sneaks into my room, I straddle his lap, pressing my lips to his ear.

"Tonight," I whisper, "I want you to tie me up."

He raises an eyebrow. "I don't have any... equipment."

"I don't need equipment. I have some ties in my closet." I slide off his lap.

He looks at the ties, then at me, and something dark flickers in his eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He lays me on the bed, face up, and ties my wrists to the headboard with two of his silk ties. He does it carefully, making sure they're tight enough to hold but not enough to hurt. Then he ties my ankles to the bottom corners of the bed frame, spreading my legs open.

I'm completely exposed. Completely helpless.

He stands at the foot of the bed, looking at me. His eyes travel down my body—my bound wrists, my bare breasts, the slick pink flesh of my cunt, open and ready. He takes his cock out. It's already hard, the tip glistening.

"Look at you," he says, his voice rough. "My little girl, all tied up for me."

He crawls onto the bed, settles between my legs, and pushes in. The angle is different like this. Deeper. He can't pull all the way out because of the position, so every thrust is a grind, his pelvis pressing against my clit, his cock hitting spots I didn't know I had.

I can't move my hands. I can't touch him. I can only lie there and take it, and that makes everything more intense. Every sensation is magnified. Every stroke sends electricity through my body. I'm moaning, arching, my bound wrists pulling against the ties.

"Please," I gasp. "Please, daddy—"

"Please what?" He fucks me harder, his pace relentless.

"Please don't stop!"

He doesn't. He fucks me until I'm crying, until I'm cumming so hard I can't breathe, my vision going white. He groans and fills me with his cum, and I feel it spreading hot inside me, mixing with the memory of Jenni's words about her dad wanting to breed her. I realize now that I want everything that Jenni has. I want her in my life. To share everything with her, even clocks and even getting pregnant. What is wrong with me. I imagine her dad's cock in her cunt.

I cum again just from the thought.

Afterward, he unties me, rubs my wrists, kisses me softly. I want him to stay, but he has to go back to his room before my mom wakes up. He leaves, and I lie in bed, my body still trembling, my mind a hurricane.

I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know who I am. Jenni. My dad. Her dad. The lines are so blurred I can't find the edges. I think about Jenni tied to her bed, her dad fucking her, whispering about babies. I think about Mr. Harrison's thick cock in my mouth, in my pussy. I think about my dad's hands on my hips, his breath in my ear. I like clocks. But I like them more if they are in Jenni. I want them to fuck me just after they have fucked her. I am so confused.

I get on my knees on the bed, facing the wall. I imagine it's Jenni's dad behind me, or my dad or Jenni herself rubbing her pussy on mine, or all. I slide my fingers into my pussy, still full of my dad's cum, and I fuck myself until I cum again, biting my pillow to muffle the sound. It's Jenni I want it has always been her. I am straight, I like men but I want to share cock with her. Or maybe this treatment isn't not working at all.

And even as I come down, the thought doesn't fade. It stays with me, hot and insistent, as I drift off to sleep.

Jenni and her dad. My dad and me. What we could become.