Exploring My Daughter’s Asshole

Story Excerpt

Daddy’s Garage, Midnight

The garage was a dim, grimy cave at midnight, lit only by a single bulb flickering overhead, casting jagged shadows across the cluttered space. Tools lay scattered on the concrete floor, wrenches and screwdrivers glinting faintly, while the air hung heavy with the sharp tang of oil and sweat. In the center sat an old muscle car, half-restored, its hood cool and slick under the bare stomach of the 23-year-old daughter as she bent over it, her skirt and panties bunched down around her knees. Her tank top was shoved up over her tits, the fabric crumpled, leaving her exposed and trembling under the rough hands of her father standing behind her.

His thick fingers, streaked with grease from hours of tinkering, plunged deep into her soaked pussy, pumping with a brutal, steady rhythm. Two fingers curled inside her, stretching her open, while his thumb mashed against her clit, sending jolts through her body. His other hand clamped down on her hip, holding her in place as she squirmed, her knuckles white from gripping the edge of the hood. Her moans echoed off the garage walls, raw and desperate, her breath hitching with every hard thrust of his hand. She was right on the edge, her thighs shaking, ass jiggling with each forceful push, her body a live wire of lust.

“Fuck, don’t stop. Harder. I’m so fuckin’ close,” she gasped, her voice breaking as she arched her back, pushing into his touch.

He grunted, his own breath heavy, his eyes locked on the way her slickness coated his fingers, glistening under the weak light. The wet, obscene sound of her pussy filled the space, driving him to push deeper, faster.
“You’re so damn wet. Shouldn’t be doin’ this to you. God help me,” he muttered, his voice rough, strained with a mix of hunger and shame he couldn’t shake.

“I want it. I’ve always wanted it, daddy. Make me come, please,” she begged, her head dropping forward, hair sticking to her sweaty neck as her body tensed.

Her legs trembled harder, toes curling against the cold floor, and she let out a sharp cry as the orgasm hit, ripping through her like a shockwave. Her pussy clenched around his fingers, pulsing, as she shattered, her hips bucking uncontrollably against the hood. She collapsed forward, chest heaving, moans turning to soft whimpers while her body twitched with aftershocks.

He slowed his hand, sliding his fingers out, watching a trail of her juices drip down her thigh. His own jeans were tight, his cock throbbing painfully against the zipper, but he didn’t move to free it yet. He wiped his slick hand on his worn shirt, stepping back half a step, his jaw tight. His eyes roamed over her—her flushed skin, the curve of her round plump ass still on display, the way she panted like she’d run a mile. It was too much, and still not enough.

She turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, cheeks red, eyes glassy with orgasm. Her voice came out low, still shaky from coming so hard. “That ain’t all I want. You know it.”

He swallowed hard, hands flexing at his sides, the bulge in his pants impossible to hide.