dirty back roads – chapter 3

He lay there watching her sleep for a little while. His cock still hard from drinking in her naked young body. Now sharing the same bed, the same sheets, she lay sound asleep just inches from him. He stroked his hardness in her direction, sure that if he were to cum it would find it’s way to her perfect flesh. He shook his head and tried to regain some fatherly composure. He could not in good conscious try to have a sexual relationship with his baby girl, even if she was having congress with the dog. It was not his place. He needed a drink. He sat up and contemplated the situation. With a long sigh, he rose and headed off to the kitchen for some whiskey. With every step his thirst for the drink grew, until he was salivating as he shakily poured himself his first shot. His mind raced with visions of his daughter’s tiny body shaking and writhing under the thrusts of his old dog Rufus. Her innocent lust, unabashed desire for these new delights. He wanted to protect her from the world, but also to give her all the joy possible. He poured himself several more shots before he began to swig directly from the bottle, and his thoughts began to blur. He slumped down in his chair and nodded off for a bit. He groggily awoke in the middle of the night, not unaccustomed to this predicament of alcoholic slumber in whatever chair he was in. He rose rather unsteadily and staggered off to bed. When he slipped into his bed sheets, he was drunk enough to mistake his daughters warm body laying naked in his bed for that of a mystery woman. He was happy for his new prize, as he clambered clumsily under the sheets toward her. His eager wandering hands found their way to her little hole and his fingers probed her, finding her warm and still wet with the dog’s cum he climbed onto her and grunted into the back of her neck as he guided his drunken cock into her little pussy. Her tight slit felt so good on his cock as he fucked her little body pinned under his lumbering weight. Her face buried in the pillow, as his thrusts brought him closer and closer to his release.

She whimpered into the pillow as he drilled her. Awoken in such a strange manner, unable to move, but feeling the nice fullness like Rufus delivered, but different… slower and more deliberate. She could smell the whiskey on her fathers breath and fear shot through her. She wasn’t sure what to do, so she just lay there silently, not wanting to provoke his anger.