When it comes to sex women have a different take on it, there is more eroticism in our makeup, perhaps due to our wiring as girls, we know and sense men’s needs for us, we feel it instinctively, it’s always there, even when we don’t really understand what the feelings were are feeling or experiencing, lie deep within our bodies, we just know it can go further, always just out of reach, but the feeling makes us want to go a little more, because it gets better when we do.
My story takes me back to such a time, when I became aware of sex and the attraction of feeling a man press against me, I seemed to have a sixth sense about what he really wanted, and in many ways I was making him go further, subtly encouraging him to try a little more, but as you read you will see that another element came into play, this man, an old Priest, did not care how I felt, he had saw me enter the carriage, and bade his time to when the train was leaving, and boarded it, now he had me for the hours ahead, and I succumbed.
I hope you enjoy my story and yes, you may be shocked as my father had strange desires, though suppressed, they came out that day, and I was happy they did, you see girls can be strange creatures when it comes to sex, and fathers can provide us with what we want, we really are not shocked with it, because we are rowing up and learning, besides I love my daddy, so why not love him that way too?
Of course a day out to the seaside was exciting on many fronts. The thought of sand, sea and sun, not to mention the many embellishments that makes such a day memorable, right into adulthood.
A Summer print of pink to reflect the femininity of the wearer , the linen cool on the skin, with the underlying cotton sitting comfortably, but the excitement of the day ahead, telling on the sweetness of the sweat, as it rolled in little rivulets from my underarms and the nape of my long neck, my long blond hair, itself trapping the heat and causing more sweat to cascade down my spine and dampen the tight elastic of my panties, being so nude, could be felt, as the breezes wafted and waned across my nude skin under the flimsy garment.
We clambered into a carriage for the near three hour journey, a carriage split into three separate compartments, each one adorned with long sofa like seats, long enough to seat eight adults, four either side, a mirror and overhanging nets for ones luggage.
The carriage itself was hot, but there was a hint of luxury about it, especially when the heavy door slammed shut, you suddenly heard the silence, all the outside noise stopped, and a sense you and just the train was evident.
I stood at the glass window of the carriage door, staring out, and daddy sat at the other, after dispensing the bags he was carrying atop the nets overhead.
I heard the guard blow his whistle and a surge of excitement, emanating from deep within my stomach surged through me, as I pressed my cheek to the cool glass of the door.
There was a second blow of the whistle and suddenly a man dressed in black, ran past me, stopped and looked at me, smiled and reached for the door, where I stood.
As the door opened, there was a surge of heat from the outside, and I could hear my father say, ‘Stand back Mariel’, and I did as he bade, and the stranger climbed in and bushed past me, as I sat down on the mountainous cushion of a seat.
He had a small attaché of a bag and he threw it onto the overhead netting, as daddy had done, then sat down opposite me, that was when I could see he was a man of the cloth, his dog collar making a red ring-like mark on his neck, and like me, sweating profusely.
My father was a religious man, not deeply or practising, but enough to address this stranger politely and show subservience, as priests come to expect from their parishioners, something I noticed he seemed to enjoy, as if he suddenly became king of the block.
‘So who is this delightful young lady’, he asked daddy, his eyes scanning me over, as he spoke?
‘This Father, is my daughter Mariel’, daddy replied, and I saw his thin lips stretch as he smiled, and his tongue slipped out and began moistening their dry surface, I felt an uneasiness creep over me and I looked at daddy, but he was smiling as any father would, when presenting their beautiful daughter to a man of the cloth.
Daddy sat alongside him, so he could not see the priest’s obvious interest in his daughter. ‘Is she a good daughter’, he asked, his eyes studying my face as he spoke, and as I shifted uncomfortably in my seat opposite him, his eyes dropped to my exposed knees and his tongue licked his lips, as if he were licking something completely different.
‘You Know girl’s father’, he replied meekly, as he got up from his seat and reached into one of our bags, producing a bottle, ‘Would you care for a drop’, he added, meaning whiskey?
The priest smiled at him, ‘No, no’, he replied, ‘but you go ahead’, that was when I could feel his foot was between mine; I looked at him, and understood he wanted me to open my legs.
I looked to my father, he had already taken a deep slug from the bottle, his solace from reality, he was obviously feeling the pressure from the priest, and uncomfortable with the power these disciples of God, held over their flock.
‘Have you never tanned her behind them’, then he asked, this time there was a noticeable change of tone in his voice?
Daddy took another deep swig from the flask and shook his head in acknowledgement that he had not.
The old priest looked at daddy as he drank, encouraging him to drink more, which daddy did, and with each swallowing, daddy showed signs of losing his faculties.
‘Stand up girl’. The sternness of his command shocked me momentarily and I looked across at daddy, but he just looked out of the window, at the countryside as it sped by.
I got up and the old priest took hold of my wrist and pulled me over to him. I stumbled and he reached out and took hold of me, before pulling me onto his lap, that was when I could feel he was outside his pants, there was no mistaking what I was sitting on, and as I shifted uncomfortably on his lap, I looked helplessly at daddy, if he knew what the priest was doing, he certainly did nothing to stop it.
We sat quietly for about fifteen minutes, the priest held me tightly around my waist, and caressed my bottom with his free hand.
He looked dominantly across to daddy who appeared to nod off, but the old man was not having that and gave him a gentle nudge on his drooped shoulder.
‘Your daughter seems to like sitting on my lap’, he said, much to my shock, his penis sat between my buttocks, that much was evident to me, but I did not think it was obvious to him that the experience was something I was enjoying, it was different, and I was not trying to pull away, so I sat on it quietly and simply endured it.
Daddy said nothing, he simply did not want to know what the old man was hinting at, he was hiding his fear of the church behind the booze he consumed, that was when the old priest eased my dress up and exposed my panties, and as daddy closed his eyes to this latest demeanour, he put his hand down the front of them and slipped his finger in between my labia and started to massage it.
‘You never do this to your daughter man’, he asked him? Daddy looked at him, then me, then down to what the priest was doing, he sat and stared, his eyes widening as he saw the priest’s finger was penetrating me.
‘She likes it’, and looking at me, he continued, ‘don’t you girl’?
I nodded meekly, what was the point of lying; it was rather a nice feeling. ‘The old priest looked at daddy, ‘Take your cock out man, let her see you enjoying her’, and to emphasize his meaning, he reached across to daddy’s lap and pulled his zipper down, reached inside and pulled daddy’s cock out, to my amazement, daddy was hard, and I watched in shock as the old man started to stroke it for him.
‘See’, he shouted in triumph, ‘was right’, and he turned to me and told me to take my panties off, ‘You young lady, are going to learn how to fuck’.
I stood up shakily, and reached under my linen print and lifted it over my head, and as I did so, the old priest reached across and peeled my panties down to my ankles.
I tossed my print onto the cushion and noticed daddy was doing his own masturbating as he watched me, the old priest got onto his feet and his erection stood straight out in front of him, ‘Suck my cock Mariel, and show your daddy you’re a slut’, I leant in and took him in my mouth.
‘Clean her for me’, he said to daddy, and he came up to me bent body and started to lick my crotch from behind, ‘Stick your tongue in her ass, I want her ready for my cock’, he said, and I could feel daddy’s tongue go inside it, as he licked me all over.
He sat down opposite daddy and pulled me onto his erection, ‘Keep your legs open and let your father see my cock go into you, I did as he bade, and was greeted by my father ejaculating, his semen landing on my body, while the old priest stretched and pummelled my vagina.
‘Make her clean it’, cried the old priest, and daddy got up and put his cock into my mouth, the bitterness and acrid taste lost on my taste buds, the distraction being the old man’s finger, which was worming it way up my ass, ‘Time for a hole change’, he said, as he introduced me to anal sex, the pain overcoming the taste of semen, both these catholic men with their twisted views on humanity, certainly knew how to enjoy the pleasures of the forbidden.
When we had arrived at our destination, the old priest got up and disappeared without as much as a thank you very much. We were about to disembark ourselves when I saw his brimmed hat was still lying in the overhear netting, so I reached up and lifted it down, by then daddy was standing on the platform, ‘Party Costumes’, was the label, the old priest it appeared was not so, but a man with balls to pretend to be so, I threw it back up there, no point in telling daddy of the rouse, besides we had a week ahead of us, and daddy and I both knew things would be different, now I knew more about sex, and his affection for me.
I took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, looked up into his eyes and gave a reassuring smile; this was going to be a holiday with a difference, and the beginning of one of those relationships that defied convention.
By Mariel, all comments welcome as to how females write erotica, did you like it?
Posted by MarieL 5 months ago Views: