If anything, I felt guilty for having spied on my parents and even guiltier still for imaging those things with my dad. Oh goddam you traitorous pussy! I can describe my dad as my father, my friend, counselor and my lover. Being a survivor of child sexual abuse is complicated. Afterwards I dreamed that he told me what a good daughter I was and how much he loved me - and how he especially loved fucking me. Well, not completely clearly. I smiled to myself as my mom was demonstrating some pretty awesome cocksucking skills.
His bestial snarls disappearing up my fuck-hole as he penetrated me with his tongue.
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. It WAS all real and I looked away from him quickly, not sure of whether I should be looking at it that way or not. After a few minutes I decided to try to touch it with my hand, so I raised my hand to scratch my nose and moved my head back so my cheek was resting on the tip and beginning of the shaft and my hand rested on the bottom of his shaft. You want my cunt? She kept finding fault with me; throwing tantrums at the slightest provocation and blaming me sometimes for things my brothers did. I fell asleep with thoughts of being in the hot tub with them, of letting my dad fuck me as my mom watched and played with herself.