Daughter Makes Me Fuck Her

Daughter Makes Me Fuck Her
"I'm sorry guys. I don't cry much."

By
Brian Koerber on August 30, 2016

Yeah... It doesn't make much more sense in context.
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Dads are notoriously hard to buy presents for, but sometimes kids can go above and beyond the expectations for gift giving.
Gabriella Lynde from Port Richey, Florida, gave her stepfather the ultimate gift for his birthday: adoption papers.
Like any true dad, he starts opening the gift by torturing everyone around him. He slowly rips away the tissue paper, and checks in between each sheet to see if there are any hidden presents. But as soon as he picks up the adoption papers, his joking manner quickly turns emotional.
"Am I adopting you?" he asks Gabriella.
"I want you to, you don't have to. You can say no, but I want you to adopt me. You've been my dad and those legal papers don't change anything," Gabrielle responds.
The two then embrace and a river of happy tears flood the room.
Although Gabriella is above the age of 18, people can still opt to be adopted under Florida law.

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The interesting and unique people of the Himba tribe inspired the character 'Binti' in Nnedi Okorafor's novella trilogy 'Binti'.

Down in the Kunene and Omusati regions of Northern Namibia, are the semi-nomadic people of Ovahimba and Ovazimba tribes.

It is customary, for them, for the the women to engage in daily activities of milking cows, taking care of the children while the men go hunting, sometimes leaving for long periods of time.

With a population of over 50,000, the Himba are a polygamous people where Himba girls are married off to male partners selected by their fathers once they attain puberty.

Most of their cultures have been upheld despite western influence and agitation.

Among these is the "Man comes first" tradition. The woman has little or no opinion in the decision making. Submission to her husband’s demands come first.

According to the Guardian, "When a visitor comes knocking, a man shows his approval and pleasure of seeing his guest by giving him the Okujepisa Omukazendu treatment — the wife is given to his guest to spend the night while the husband sleeps in another room. In a case where there is no available room, her husband will sleep outside."

This, apparently, reduces jealousy and fosters relationships.

Another tradition that has stood the test of time is the "bathing is forbidden" rule. Rather than take their baths, the women take a smoke bath and apply aromatic resins on their skin. They are also guided by the belief that the colour red signifies “Earth and blood”. Their red skin is one of the things that make them extremely unique. The red colour is from the otjize paste (a combination of butterfat, omuzumba scrub and ochre) and its function is to protect their skin from the harsh desert sun and insect bites.

Himba Influence in African Literature

The Himba people haven't been represented a lot in Literature. However, in Nnedi Okorafor Binti, the lead character 'Binti' is of the Himba poeple. Okorafor describes the tribe as a "tribe in Namibia who use ‘sweet smelling otjize’, a mixture of ochre and butterfat over their skin, rolling it into their hair as protection against the desert sun". In the novella, the Himba don't travel, which directly contrasts the real Himba people who are nomads.

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More stories to check out before you go
I am a 28-year-old career woman, a banker to be exact. Unlike many girls my age who are getting ready for marriage and planning weddings, I am in a relationship people may call bizarre. I am in love with a man who cherished me as a baby and watched me grow up. This is the man who has never stopped calling me beautiful, whose love is broad-spectrum and is in and out of season. That man is my father.
Don't be hasty to judge me, I have no regrets nor am I ready to change my mind.
It all began when I was 13. Those were the days I badly needed love. My mother gave more attention to my two younger brothers and often I felt left out. She kept finding fault with me; throwing tantrums at the slightest provocation and blaming me sometimes for things my brothers did.
"You should be their role model," I remember every beating from my mother. Justly speaking, it was not all uphill with her; there were some good times but I can dare say that the bitter moments outweigh the good ones by far! I grew to hate her too. I am not embarrassed that I found love and consolation from her husband.
Daddy is a businessman; so many times he'd be away on business trips. When he came home, I would lie on his chest and cry asking him not to leave me behind next time he went for a trip. "Darling, you're still in school," he'd gently tell me and press me hard on his chest. I was only a little girl then. If my mother shouted at me in his presence, he'd reprimand her. Those were the only times I felt justice being done to me.
At the age of 12, after my first menstruation period, I dared my mother for a woman-to-woman chat. "Why don't you like me? Is it that you expected a boy and you got me? Did dad rape you on the night you conceived me," I recited what I had been coached by my peers. She insisted she loved me but her actions continued to be different.
Then, my hips started growing and I was turning into a pretty woman. I often caught my dad stealing glances at me especially at the dining table. I didn't know about man-to -woman love then and it's much later I that I realised my dad had fallen in love with me long before I knew it. My mother cautioned me against men generally and talked ill about all of them.
But dad was and is still different from all the men I have ever met. He's charming, caring, listening and willing to understand. I can describe my dad as my father, my friend, counselor and my lover. No man can match him! As a little girl, I could see jealousy written all over my mother's face and at some point I started enjoying it. I would sit on dad's lap and wrap my little hands around his neck just to provoke her. She'd make a face but not at any time did she ever stop me. Maybe if she had talked to me about incest then, things would be different today.
On my thirteenth birthday, Dad had a surprise for me: a trip with him to South Africa. I can't narrate the joy of being alone for a whole week with a person who loved me dearly and away from my mother's quarrels. A nice hotel in Jo'burg was my birthday place. I had a nice spacious room all to myself and dad's room was opposite mine.
On the second night he came to my room and without any preambles he held me tightly and gave me a long deep kiss on the lips. I felt a sense of belonging and a very special attachment to him. That is the night I gave my virginity to my dad.
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