My Dad Fucked Me Story

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My Dad Fucked Me Story
"Daddy" (This is my story. I am not ashamed.)
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**I have lived with this for a long time. I am sharing my story because I want to tell someone. I'm not ashamed of what happened. I don't need a psychologist or anything. So I figured I'd just share it with you guys because that's what Reddit's for right? I guess I'll find out haha.
Note: I really am from southern Alabama but I changed all the names of people and places. I'm married now and I have kids & I've never told anyone about this before not even my husband. He doesn't know anything about my childhood because my parents both died before I married him. I'm a nurse and I love my life right now and I have 2 beautiful children who mean the world to me.
I added some dialogue to make the story not so boring, but please remember this happened many years ago & I don't remember everything that was actually said so its just approximations. The message gets across.**
The year I turned 16 I began a relationship with a 48 year old man. He lived up the street from me. We'll call him Mr. Samuel. I later called him Bill while our relationship was in its budding weeks, the life-filled weeks of love, sex, and making omelets and grits together in his kitchen. I loved to wear his large t-shirts as if they were dresses while I cooked. But finally after I could no longer deny that he was my light, my love & my deepest passion, I began to call him "Daddy." He became not only the man who took my virginity but the man I called my father.
I knew him since i was a child. My family lived on Magnolia Bend in an area outside of Mobile. We lived on the left side of the street where the nicer houses were. The houses were larger, had nicer lawns, and usually rose bushes and stuff. Mr. Samuel lived on the other side of the street in a shabby little house that he didn't really take care of. My real father owned a contracting company. It was once one of the 20 largest contractors in southern Alabama & that made him a proud man, He was large and sometimes kind, but he was brutal & violent when he was drunk. He beat me and my mother a lot after his company closed.
My mother wasn't a happy woman. She was always tired & depressed. Its sad that most of my memories of her are of her asleep on pills. She used to wear cheap makeup and perfume--I remember going shopping with her at Piggly Wiggly's one time and she bought some makeup & told me I'd need to buy makeup too one day to be beautiful.
Every morning she'd sleep in until 11 or noon. Then she'd get up & make herself a drink, pop a vicodin & go back to sleep. She never made me breakfast or anything because she didn't eat breakfast and she never helped me get ready for school. She told me she loved me sometimes. And maybe she did. She'd go out at night with my father to the movies or to dinner and she'd cake on her cheap makeup to cover the bruises. She could spend an hour looking in the mirror trying out ways to hold her eyebrows or lips. I know now she just wanted my dad to love her but i didn't understand back then. I didn't love my parents but you can see why
I knew Mr. Samuel since I was really little, he was one of my dad;s workmen at his company. When I was 3 or 4 he was working on a site with my dad I guess and they would come back to our house at night & watch baseball and drink beer for a few hours. Actually those were pretty happy times. If i had to pick like the "best years" of my childhood I'd say those were it. That was life before the darkness came I guess.
When my dad's company went under he had to work in a minor management position at another larger contractor. That's when the drinking started I guess. I don't mean a few beers at night with his friends & baseball or a glass or two of wine at dinner. I mean a descent into the blackness of alcohol, He drank to sleep & forget & maybe to die. My mother started drinking too. She drank maybe more than my dad, she drank all day. She drank to cope with aging, she drank to cope with the abuse, she drank to basically cope with living I guess.
I use to walk to school even though most kids didn't walk to school when I was in high school. I walked up Magnolia Bend, turned right at the corner and went up the hill to where my high school was. Every day i went by Mr. Samuels' house. The mailbox was really dented in on the side and he never fixed it. He wasn't married but he had a daughter. I think she went to Auburn. He was really proud of her. She was 21, maybe 22 at this time. She used to play with me and the other kids on Magnolia Bend when she was younger.
It'd been a long time since I talked to Mr. Samuel though. Since the company went under. But one afternoon in the spring of my Junior year he was on his front porch sitting.
--Afternoon Sarah Jane, he called, long time no see. Real long time.
--Hello Mr. Samuel, I said. Nice to see you.
--You want some iced tea? You got time?
I don't really know why but I said yes. I remember the cushion on the porch swing was all mildewy from the rain but I sat there anyway. We sat on the veranda drinking iced tea, and he didn't really say much for a while. I knew there was something off about the whole situation. Trust me, it wasn't really usual to drink iced tea alone with an older man who was basically a stranger. I definitely felt like I shouldn't be there to say the least. But I was really intrigued (I guess you could call it 'turned on' if you want).
--How old are you now? he asked eventually.
--I haven't talked to you since you were real young, he said. But I've seen you walking to school up the sidewalk most days. How's your old man? Haven't seen him in a real long time either. Well, since the company closed really.
I said my mother was good, too. I asked him where he was working now. He said he wasn't working much except for odd jobs.
For his age he was in good shape. He was rugged and muscular. He always wore wifebeaters around the house. He only shaved once a week or so, but I was still attracted to him. Maybe I knew it was wrong & thats what I liked about him. We sat on the veranda talking until the sun was low in the sky. It wasn't summer yet and the sunsets died quickly & without any flair. When it was almost dark I said goodnight and walked home.
Any typical 16 year old girl would've gotten beaten (deservedly) for coming home 4 hours late from school without any explanation, but my parents were to busy fighting and drinking and apologizing and fucking that they didn't really notice me. It was nice in a way, i could do anything I wanted really.
I started spending more and more time with Mr. Samuel. He lived all alone and I think he missed his daughter and I was filling that gap in his life. I was someone to take care of & love.
It was loneliness that brought us together. I know most of you will judge me for what I did, but you don't understand what it was like. I mean I had some friends and I did extracurriculars and such, but I was so lonely. He understood me. We talked about everything from baseball to the new cars that the wealthy people were driving down in Mobile. He was 48. I was 16. We were both lonely and things just began to happen.
One night I was at his house & he made me dinner. I was calling him "Bill" by then.
--So, are you having sex? he asked me.
I didn't expect the question but I guess I should have. I didn't really admit to myself the sexual tension in our friendship/relationship/companionship (or whatever it had been up to that point).
I said 'yes.' Which was a lie. By then I was very uncomfortable but I tried to pretend like the question was the same as "Want some iced tea?" or "Think it will rain?" He was after all an adult & was a very personal question right? That's not the type of thing you an older man asks. At least not one who knew your father once, not one who was so kind. Mr. Samuel was such a normal man, just a regular man.
Through all of this I could not deny that I wanted him--really wanted him.
But I felt so guilty. Not about what I was doing, but about his reputation. Even if no one ever found out (which no one has until now) he would for the rest of his life bear the weight of knowing he took the virginity of a girl younger than his own daughter. What if he later changed his mind? He couldn't exactly undo everything like it never happened. I felt bad for flirting with him. Was I too cute, rolling up my skirts, unbuttoning a button too many on my shirts? I hadn't been thinking.
Although the only reason I flirted and lead him on like that was because I wanted him to look at me. I wanted to feel him touch my skin. I wanted to feel him on me & in me. I wanted him to breathe into me.
When it actually began I guess I shouldn't have been so conflicted & surprised. Especially since it turned out to be the best relationship of my life. I don't love my husband the way i loved Bill. (Of course I love my children more than him though--I gave birth to them they're part of me).
After dinner he asked me what I'd 'done' before.
--What do you say we do the 'usual stuff' then, he said.
My heart must've been beating a hundred time a second. I had two options: say 'sure' and do what I'd only lusted about until then (but have to deal with all of the guilt), or say 'no' and probably never see Bill again (but not have to go against my conscious).
We went into his bedroom which was just off of the living room. His bed wasn't made and there were clothes everywhere. I sat down on his bed & he went into the bathroom. I guess he expected me to take my clothes off while he was in there because he looked a little surprised when he came back out and I was still dressed. He was naked & had an erection. He'd put a condom on in the bathroom. He pulled my shirt off & undid my bra. My heart was pounding and my whole body was on fire--I was so nervous that my skin was hot to the touch. He was gentle, but firm. (After all, I'd 'had sex before'). He knelt down and kissed my breasts, gently licking my nipples. It was happening.
I cant remember but I don't think I responded with words but I gave him a look that said it all.
He moved his down between my thighs, his unshaved face was rough but felt amazing. He was rough, and muscular. He had cuts and scrapes from his odd jobs. His hair was a little greasy. But he was mine. He was my "Daddy."
Any guilt I had was gone. Any confusion I had was gone. I wanted him to ravage me. My Daddy took my virginity that night & he knew it.
When he was finished, he laid on top of me and kissed me. I'm sure the mattress beneath us was soaked with sweat but i didn't care. I'd just lost my virginity & I wasn't lonely. I was connected to another human being. There wasn't a single corner of darkness in the world (not even in my own terrible house up the street) where i could feel alone and isolated. Not when I had my Daddy.
I didn't give a fuck about my real parents, they would be at home drinking and fighting and fucking. I didn't care about my dad's failed contracting company. I didn't care about my mother and her cheap makeup. My mother was a whore. She covered the bruises where my father had hit her to make herself beautiful for him again, so he had something pretty to beat when I wasn't around.
I spent a lot of time at Daddy's house. I cooked for him (wearing his t-shirts). The early part of our relationship basically consisted of a lot of sex. I remember we had sex everywhere, we had sex in all the rooms (there were only 4 or 5 in the house). I remember he had this brown shag carpet. It was really ugly, but fairly soft. It was my favorite place in the house to have sex with him. I'd lay on the carpet, my back pressing into shaggy texture. We'd throw back bourbon from the handle. He'd put on Al Green & then a condom before helping me feel loved & beautiful. I never felt like i needed makeup around Daddy. I could be myself. My mother could never be herself.
This was my life. You have to understand why i chose to live like this. You have to understand the feeling of freedom & love that Daddy gave me. I wasn't alone anymore. I didn't have to depend on my parents to love me. Daddy became like my father. I guess really he became my father. The man who hit me when I'd walk at 2 AM wasn't my father.
I did learn something (later on in life) about Mr. Samuel that really scared me when I found out. It all made sense when I found out though, but I'll explain that in a shorter update tomorrow morning. It's about 1 AM where I live now & my husband's asleep.
No matter what anyone says I'm not ashamed of my childhood. I just hope that someone else can reaffirm that: it happened, its over, and I've moved on with my life. Do you understand now why I did what I did? Was it wrong of me? I just needed to share my story. To be honest, writing this really is helping me. So even if you all disagree with what I did, this has really helped me to just pour my memories out.
You're a pretty good writer, you know?
You didn't do anything wrong. You're right to want to think about it, analyse it, vent it out a little bit. You've still got some processing to do about it all - but the relationship with your neighbor was just a lifeline to sanity and control for you then. You could've done so much worse to yourself. So much worse....
You've got decent instincts, and you seem pretty well adjusted. Keep thinking. Keep your brain engaged. You're OK now and you're going to do fine. You need carry no guilt for what you've written.
One thing worries me though. You seemed to indicate that it would be OK - even expected - to beat a child for coming home late. Honestly, that's the only part of your story that made me feel a dangerous wrongness. You're a parent. It is not OK to beat a child. Not a baby, not a toddler, not a teenager. Hopefully you're aware of this. If not, or if you have doubts or violent feelings, please seek help immediately.
You did what you had to do to find peace. It helped you grow. I just can't see it as wrong or bad.
This is a good OMC. Good on you for opening up about it. That has to feel good.
Thank you for your kind words. I would never beat my own children, not after what I went through. I said "deservedly" because the beating would be a punishment for an actual wrongdoing, not just for no reason at all. In the time and place I grew up kids got hit around when we messed up. But I would never hit my kids.
What.... Well I think you've had an interesting life to say the least. I'm glad you've been able to find happiness.
Thank you so much, it means a lot. Im actually having trouble sleeping right now. I can't believe i just told my life's story to random people on the internet. I think I needed to though, thanks for your support
I lived a similar situation. When I was 18 I started a relationship with a 46 year old man - whom had worked with my dad, and for my dad, and whom I had known since I was 12. He lived in my dad's poolhouse, which was on the property where my Grampa used to live before he died, but where my dad was living with his mistress. This was next door to the house I lived in with my mother and sisters. When our families are fucked up, we fall into whatever comfort we can find. We kept our secret for a few years, then it all blew up. I ended up getting pregnant and moving hundreds of miles away with him. It ended when I was 22, but I have a beautiful son that I love dearly. I live in a wonderful place that I might not have found without him. I later found and married my soulmate (who is also older than me, but not so much), and we just had a daughter. I don't regret a bit of it, and neither should you.
Hazel, your story is so similar to mine. I'm really glad to know there are other people out there who went through really unhappy childhoods and found an escape through love. Thanks for your support & good luck with your own life!
He did the wrong thing, no doubt about it. But you needed an older shoulder to rest your head on and he provided that. Your writing is poetic and you sound like a person I'd love to have a few drinks with just to chew the fat...lovely!
Things are heating up in Mobile, Alabama; and it sure as hell ain't the usual summertime temperature.
Sounds very romantic if you ask me. I don't blame him in the slightest, and if it's a happy memory for you then don't let anyone else say a thing about it. They didn't experience it.
Thanks for your support. It means a lot to me right now.
You never did anything wrong, butI'm in high school and the thought of one of my female friends having sex with a 48 year old man is pretty disgusting actually. I can't see any healthy or good relationship between a 16 year old and a 48 year old. In my opinion that man took advantage of you.
The man is a pedophile, sexual predator.
This would make a movie I'd watch. Thank you for telling your story:) no judgement here.
watch Lolita with Jeremy Irons as a pedophile
That was fascinating to read, it really was. I can see why it happened, for sure. What's this update? I want to read!
she removed the whole thing... no update... still heavy on her chest...

[img] http://2.bp./-ZuHM3Re3nm4/UeACy9kDWFI/AAAAAAAAAD4/hRt8ISaiHv0/s280/3411_3853118252537_1715641847_n.jpg [/img] Hi I am mallika, 26 years old,. My dad is 58 years old. My mom & dad are divorced and i was living with my dad. My dad married another woman. While they are fucking I used to see and think of me in place of my step mother. I decided to lose my virginity only with my dad. And just waiting for the oppurtunity. One day when my step mom is out of city and we were alone in the house, i dressed myself sexy in black baby doll dress. He was watching t.v. I went to him and said that i have new movie CD and let's watch it. He said OK and I played the movie. It is a porn movie where father rapes his daugther when her mom is out of city. He was shocked on seeing the movie and said take it off. I said what happened dad,let's us watch it, what's wrong in it, if at all there is any wrong, it is daughter's who didn't support her father and gave him pleasure. He said what do you mean? I said that I wont object if you want to Bleep me because it is u who gave me birth and i feel u have got every right to Bleep me if your willing. I also said that I am even ready to give birth to his baby as my mom did. Initially he was shocked but later understood my love towards him and bleeped me to fullest. Also my dad divorced my step mom and married me and gave me two babies. That way i became a proud mother of my dad's children. Now let me explain the way my dad bleeped me for the first time and took my virginity after listening to my words he hugged me and gave a nice and long kiss on my lips and licked my tongue and we exchanged our saliva too. It is amazing and said that my mom is very lucky to get bleeped my him and also to have a daughter from him, but she is unlucky to loose him. He removed my bra strap and dropped it, then took my boobs into his mouth one after the other and licked them for 5 minutes while kissing my rosy lips in between. Then i went down and removed his belt and zip of his trousers and inserted my hand into his brief and took his dick and gave a nice kiss on the tip of his huge rooster. I started giving Mouth Gig and he enjoyed it to the fullest. It continued for 15 minutes, still I was not completed satisfied and my dad stopped me and took me to his bedroom and throwed me on the bed and removed my panty and inserted his tongue into my already wet pussy and drank the juice. Mean while I was played with his ro
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