Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
I’ve heard you fighting about the divorce, and I know Mom’s refusing to sign those papers. I know you’ll end it soon, though. You’re not a very patient man, Daddy.
You know, the first time I heard you cheat on Mom was only two months after your wedding.
I was at home sick, and you didn’t know I’d stayed behind. I heard a girl’s laughter and followed you out by the pool.
I watched a girl that looked like a younger version of my mom suck your cock, with your back turned towards me, until you grabbed her head and emptied yourself in her needy little mouth. I watched your ass work your cum into her throat, and I watched her get up, grinning and wiping her lips. She was very pretty. Blonde, with huge fake tits, but much younger than my mom.
It wasn’t until later that I found out she was your co-worker.
I don’t think it’s very professional to fuck your secretary, Daddy.
The next time you brought a girl home was three days later.
I hid and watched. I watched you fuck a stranger on top of our washer, which covered up all the sounds she was making for you. Our mom was just a floor above you, Daddy, and I think it got you off knowing that either of us could walk in on you fucking someone who was working with you at the office.
I know because I listened to the way you talked to the woman.
Spread your legs for your boss, little slut.
Spit on my dick so I can fuck your virgin asshole.
Moan so I can fill you up with my cum, all the way inside you. I’m going to fuck you so deep, you won’t even leak a single drop.
Mom always told me that you were a charmer when she met you, Daddy. But I still think you’re the handsomest, nicest bad man I’ve ever met. I tried to get wet for boys like I do for you, Daddy, but it doesn’t work. I think my pussy just wants you, and I don’t know how to help myself.
I listened and watched and observed for years, Daddy.
Until you started bringing in girls that looked like me, and fucking them all around the house.
They always looked like me.
Never again like my mom.
Never like my sister.
They all looked like me. I only realized it after the third or fourth one.
Do you want to know why, Daddy?
Because you called her by my name while you fucked her in the bed you share with my mom. I was sitting right outside, my ear pressed to the door.
You were different with this girl. You kept her around for a while, and I watched you lie to Mom, telling her you were working on a project with her. She even had dinner with us sometimes. She looked so much like me, Mom would sometimes mistake her for me while we were eating.
This girl stuck around, and as the weeks passed, I got more and more jealous. This wasn’t like you. You never fucked the same girl more than once.
So, one night, when Mom was away and I was alone in the house, I sneaked downstairs and watched you fuck her in the living room, on the couch where I’d watched silly Disney movies since I was a kid.
I heard you call her by my name again.
And correct yourself, pretend it was a mistake.
But you did it three times, Daddy. I think it was on purpose.
And she started to like it.
She begged you to call her by your stepdaughter’s name.
I heard her begging for your cock, and I heard you laughing when you realized her pretty asshole still hadn’t been fucked open. I listened to you take that girl’s anal virginity and pop her open with your cock. That wasn’t the first time I saw it, but every single time, I was mesmerized by your size.
And that was the first night the thought of you made me come all over my fingers.
I played with my pussy until I was soaking wet, until my cunt stretched to accommodate three fingers. I played so hard that I squirted for the first time, and then I hid in my bed when somebody knocked on my door a few hours later. It was past midnight, and Mom came home just for my birthday.
You came in with Mom, and you wished me a happy birthday. I was eighteen years old, finally legal, finally ready for you. Mom gave me a kiss and you stared off into the distance, not wanting to look at me.
I wasn’t sure when your relationship started to fall apart, and I wasn’t sure why you stayed together, either. It seemed like you hated each other.
I got my gift – a beautiful gold bracelet, but what meant most to me were the two kisses on my cheeks from you.