What I've seen in that house is too unsettling. In all the years I've been working in restaurants and later as a domestic employee, I've never seen anything like it.
I was looking for a place to vent, where I could tell these events about which I have been a witness. I told them to a good friend of mine and she offered to send them to Bunnyofdaddy and post them on her P! page so that you can give me your opinion. This isn't a story meant to entertain or anything like that. I just want to know what I should do in my situation.
That's why I'm putting you in the picture about me and my family.
To be honest, I don't know what to think. The truth is that at first I would have said it was wrong. I would have been disgusted. That is to say, a father and daughter who sleep together. That's a mess. I would have gone to report it. Because this incest thing, I mean, it's a crime.
But seeing how they love each other. You don't know how much they love each other. It's something you have to see to understand. There has never been a father and daughter who loved each other as much as they do. He is so tender. Not the typical pervert one would imagine in such cases. He's a very attentive, very educated man...
They're a family with a lot of money. From prestigious architects. I won't mention the name of the family out of respect for their intimacy. But they're very well-known. I worked at a very good restaurant, in the luxury sector, as a chef and the father managed to convince me to work for him by offering me conditions that were more than decent. A much higher salary, contract, social security, etc.
The poor man had been living alone with his daughter since she was little. Her mother was an alchoholic and had abandoned them for a bartender who gave her free alcohol. He had completely devoted himself to Betty, the girl. He hadn't remarried.
No matter how multimillionaire you are, it's very difficult to replace in a child the love of a mother. But he had done it very well. A great father, although I always thought he coddled her too much.
Pure-blood horse, the most expensive toys, the most chick clothes.
The girl had perhaps more than what is advisable for a girl. She was his pet. His darling.
When she arrived at adolescence, she had an infinity of creams, jewels, dresses, perfumes, artistic objects. Everything brought from all corners of the world. Her father would go to great lengths for her.
And he still does. And she also takes care of him.
She always keeps an eye on making sure her father has his favorite dishes at the table. Of getting him the best gifts.
She gives him massages on the back. Accompanies him on all his trips. Goes out with him a couple of times a week to some restaurant and they practice sports together every day.
I don't think, honestly, that the father would have entered into such a dynamic with his daughter if it weren't for how scarred he was from his experiences with women.
He's a very attractive man despite his age. I'm not exaggerating when I say he's like Harrison Ford, seriously, he's just like the actor.
I always told my friends when I started working here that he takes such good care of himself with all those gyms and strict diets...
I confess that when I arrived at the house I harbored some vain hopes of being a kind of pretty woman and falling in love with this tasty and attractive mature man. Enter as a cook and maid and become the mistress of the house.
But soon I realized it was just dreams. He was only interested in young girls, empty-headed blondes twenty years younger. Who also took advantage of him. Because they were girls who only came for his money. I don't know how he did it, but the man always found the worst women. The worst thing in the world. And look, he's always been a solo one.
Seriously, a wonder. He had them all at his fingertips. And when he fell in love, he lost his head. And gave them all their whims. Everything was given to them.
But of course, he was always for... Before her Betty, her little one. And the other girls were always jealous of the girl, who was almost at the age of consent. And they always tried to make the little girl's life impossible. Yella was furious to see what they did to her father. But what was the girl going to do! He didn't want to see them taking advantage of him and doing whatever they pleased. Even if you're handsome and smart, when you're a millionaire and go with girls so young, it's inevitable that they'll be alone for you. But he didn't get into his head. And every time they argued more and more. And yet they loved each other. But she felt impotent and they were poisoning him against her daughter. One of the girls even screamed like a madwoman while making love with the father and I'm sure it was her way of annoying Betty, clearly that much scandal didn't have any other purpose. I don't know exactly when everything changed. I started noting small things. A little later after the man broke up with a particularly stupid girl. The first thing that seemed strange to me was the change in Betty's clothes. I would arrive at the house and find her with shorts that showed more than they covered. She would walk around, parading in front of her father like that. With transparent blouses. Picartries. And her father would scold her. But she wouldn't pay attention and when he was watching TV, she would pass right in front of him a thousand times. I thought it was just things of the age. But then there was the thing with not wearing underwear. And many times, when her father was downstairs, she would call out to him from upstairs on the stairs and say some silly nonsense. With her legs open. You could see everything about the girl. And so tall and so blonde. The little girl was sculptural. The man is not made of stone no matter how much he likes it. He didn't know where to look. He would get very flustered. Then there was also the thing with being a big liar. Constantly things would fall, notes, pens... any excuse to sit on her father's lap in front of him. Always without saying... Briefs. And the other thing from the shower. Whenever he was giving himself a shower, he would casually forget something in his father's bathroom. And he would go off like that, with the towel half-fallen to look for whatever it was. And I would follow him discreetly so as not to miss anything and see how his father looked at her with his mouth open. And he couldn't take his eyes off the girl and she with the towel that if it fell here or there while asking where something was, what I don't know, but couldn't manage to answer. She would take advantage of any opportunity to show him things.
Another thing was when eating ice cream, or carrot, or anything. Because at that time he had a preference, which I swear wasn't casual, for long things. And he ate in a way that wasn't normal. He attracted his father's attention somehow in a conversation about something. The topic was staring at him fixedly and licking, for example, the strawberry ice cream. Like that with the tongue slow. Once or twice with the tongue. Come on, it's like you're going to hit me. As if he were licking something else you can imagine.
And he wouldn't dare say anything. I wonder what he would say. It was all too subtle. It was evident but subtle. I don't know how to explain it.
Then the massages started. I was already getting a little alarmed. The excuse usually was that they were massages. She had been giving them since she was a girl. But lately, it was more than obvious that they weren't like always and now that she was already most of the age. Especially when she got to the leg area. I particularly remember one day when I was cleaning over there. In another room, but because the living room door was glassed and I was cleaning a door that faced the living room which also had an acrystalized door, I could see them in the reflection.
She was giving a massage and he was wearing only a bathing suit. With his white toenails immaculate, she started to climb up her father's legs, who was lying on his back and putting his fingers, like someone who doesn't want it, under the bathing suit in small strokes. It didn't surprise me at all. A lump began to form in the father's lower back. Then he tried to turn around but she, I suppose, would say (I'm not sure because I didn't hear them well from there) but by her lips I thought I understood: -Nothing about that, now it's my turn. Then the father sat down, trying to hide his excitement and she lay down with her head on the father's lap so he could caress her hair. But I noticed she wasn't stopping moving her head as if to one side or another. Rubbing against the father's lump. As if she hadn't found a position yet. And the father's face, I swear it was a poem. And then he looked at her in a different way. With desire. But tried to calm down. In another massage she gave him on his face and chest, I remember she sat suddenly astride over him. Like an Amazon. He told her to get off but she protested: that yes, daddy, and didn't want massages anymore, if daddy was being very strange with her lately, if he no longer wanted... Finally the father let her do it and she, in a mini skirt and probably without underwear, like so many days, wouldn't stop moving over the father who only wore his bathing suit. I played dumb. I left and spied on them from the reflection we mentioned earlier. And admit that I was getting turned on. And I know perfectly well that's not right. But it's just that separated by such a thin sheet, you can imagine the father's penis almost entering her. And she wasn't being coy and was moving forward and backward. Not exactly massage movements. I even saw him grab her waist while she moved like that. And every time the girl moved faster, and already didn't bother to create an appearance of massage. She just put her hands on her father's chest and rode him. I saw her like that, so sexy, with that red and long hair, so thin and impressive legs that looked great In that position. Climbing up and down on the lord, who held her with force. I could imagine the spectacular image he would have of her bouncing breasts in front of his face. Because she was wearing a white, inner, almost transparent bra that was very loose at the top, which undoubtedly left her completely visible breasts, precious, large, and with the smoothness typical of young age. And it's true that she is not just any girl. And I'm sure he would see her with motherly eyes, but never a more beautiful girl.
And there she was moving in that way. With his penis thrusting into her vagina like a barrier. And that penis was her beloved daddy's. Everything was getting me so excited that I brought my hand to my clitoris and touched myself while watching them.
They kept at it for a good while. It's possible that one or both of them reached climax in that way. I don't know anymore. I didn't stay until the end. I was worried about being caught.
Around then, kisses started on the mouth. The first one I remember was a very hot summer day. They went up to the roof to take a shower with the hose. It was a game they had always played.
I went up to retrieve some things I had left out, to see if they would get wet from all that water.
She ran around here and there while he sprayed her with the hose and she, fleeing, kept moving away until she reached a fence where she couldn't run anymore. He chased her down and grabbed her from behind. I don't think he had any intention of being lustful. But she put her butt out a little bit and tilted her head to one side like that so he could kiss her.
He backed off, but she turned around and said:
I love you very much, daddy!
And gave him a strong hug, clinging tightly to his body, just as it was, with the bikini and full of water. And kissed him on the mouth. I can assure you that they went at it for a good while.
And then the girl got up and left, and the father stayed there, petrified, poor guy, with a enormous heat that I would have liked to relieve myself in. And then came the goodnight kisses. He always gave her a chaste kiss on the face before she went to her room to sleep. But she put her mouth on him and hugged him, trying to rub against his father's package with her knee. Besides, every time we tried to prolong that kiss. And he sometimes pretended to resist, but more often, he also hugged her back and responded to that kiss as if his daughter were a girlfriend.
In that period, the father had stopped being just a father and was bringing his girl more gifts than ever. If before he had been devoted to her, now he was even more so. There were more gifts, more love. I think he had fallen deeply in love with his own daughter. And he still is. Now much more, of course.
The next thing that happened was the nighttime fear. Like the fear of storms. She never had been afraid of anything. Always a very brave girl. But suddenly, during those summer storms, Betty would say she was very scared and get out of bed in the middle of the night, wearing a white T-shirt from her father's, which she liked to sleep in, with nothing underneath, and go to her father's room.
I don't know if it was the first time I realized what was happening that day or if it had happened before. I think it was the first. I heard her breathing through the hallway. Since my bedroom is located between theirs.
I couldn't help but, piqued by curiosity, go out and see what was going on without her noticing. The father always sleeps with his door slightly ajar, I suppose due to his great protective instinct and the lady didn't close it so as not to make noise, because the doors are old and creak terribly when you open or close them.
So I could see everything through the gap. Plus, the room was illuminated in spectral flashes by the storm. Little Betty approached her father's bed, it seems he was still asleep:
-Papá, tengo miedo de the storm can I sleep with you?
The lord hesitated for a moment:
-Well, just for a moment, but when the storm passes you'll be gone to your room.
-Thanks, daddy.
Then she got into bed and started kissing her father on the neck, face, and mouth, thanking him for letting her sleep there.
But he got angry and told her to go to sleep. Then she disappeared to sulk and turned around. When she turned around, she lifted her shirt a little and her butt was quite exposed. I could see it perfectly because they hadn't covered themselves with the sheet. It wasn't cold at all despite the storm.
The two of them were lying on their backs, one facing the other, and I thought about going to sleep too.
But then she said:
-Papa, hug me, I'm scared. Please.
-You're a major, you shouldn't be afraid at 19 almost 20 years old.-
I thought he would refuse. But he turned around and hugged her. Since it's summer, the lord only sleeps in his underwear.
She took advantage of it to push her ass against her dad's cock, which was already quite erect.
She didn't wait long before starting to move her bum back and forth. At first, she did it slowly and trying to make it seem casual.
The father at first stayed still, but then started playing the same game.
He hugged her while moving, poking her but with his underwear on.
The girl whimpered softly. He was slowly lifting her shirt, directing his arm upwards. Until he reached the height of her breasts.
The father started to grope her tits, with force but slowly, maintaining the fiction of the hug.
But she wasn't fooled and directed her hand towards his thigh, stretching her arm back.
She caressed him a little outside and pressed his penis without moving his underwear.
But when she tried to take it off, he got scared and moved back a bit.
She responded by sticking to ass and pulling a strong tug downward on the father's underwear. The penis came out of the fabric quickly, bouncing like it had been fired. Yella squeezed it with her hand and shook it. While taking it in her hand, she adjusted her body, positioning herself just above the tip of the cock. The girl placed her hand on the device of her daddy in the ideal place so that he would only have to make a small movement upward. She was squeezing the entrance of her pussy over the vibrating cock of the father. Both continued moving provocatively. The father rubbed the vagina of the girl repeatedly without penetrating her. I thought about entering and interrupting them before they committed the impending madness, but I was so excited that I could only contemplate the scene, involuntarily becoming a co-conspirator in this story. The father moved his hip with such force into the entrance of his daughter that I thought it seemed he didn't want to penetrate her, due to how hot they must have been, the cock would go inside her. The father suddenly stopped. He ceased his movements and the girl also froze, surprised. He kissed her neck and pressed her breast. Then, unexpectedly, he took hold of her waist, as if to keep her quiet, and pushed it all in without hesitation. Betty let out a scream and I couldn't believe what was happening. The gentleman was drilling his daughter like I didn't imagine a man over forty could do. He did it with the speed and passion of a seventeen-year-old boy. And he kept saying her name: Betty, Betty; while he was screwing her. She was moaning in pleasure and pain. And her daddy's cock must have been pushing all the way up to her testicles judging by the father's thrusts. I was masturbating at the door with the scene. Betty's tits, with her shirt lifted, were bouncing uncontrollably. The poor girl was screaming, unable to restrain herself, and the father, far from losing control, increased his power and said: My love, my love. I saw Betty's mouth, open while she was moaning, with her trembling and rose-colored lips. Her breasts were bouncing at the rhythm they should have been at, like eggs in a father's hands. The gentleman's penis, inside that young cock, something younger than all the young ones he had tried, must be enjoying it like never before. Then the father warned the girl that he was going to come and Betty said: -I love you. Then he, in several final thrusts, strong but slower, unloaded all his semen into the interior of his beloved daughter. The next day, the two went away, I suspect they took the morning-after pill or something like it. Because I suppose the gentleman would suddenly be overcome with conscience. I washed the sheets and found them slightly stained with blood. It's possible that Betty was deflowered that night, but I wouldn't put my hand on fire to say so. Maybe she was starting her period or anything else. That didn't happen just that one night. First as an excuse for the pains and finally without excuses, they continued performing this type of depraved acts. I feel trapped in a deep excitement that I hadn't felt since I was a young girl. All day I spend it feeling horny with those and other images roaming my mind. But my conscience is corroding me. Maybe I should do something. I need help. On one hand, I deplore what they're doing, on the other it excites me, on the other I understand them. She wants to protect her father so he's not taken advantage of him. She wants to love her father like none of his girlfriends have been able to, as he deserves. As for him, he has tried to resist. But with a daughter as lovely, adored and spoiled as this one. It was hard for a solitary man, and I repeat that he's charming, to repress his instincts. A few years went by until the little Betty who was now 22 years old spoke to me and asked if I wouldn't mind having a salary increase, to which I said yes and she told me she was pregnant and needed someone to be her baby's nanny. Welcome to it, after I found out about Betty's second pregnancy, I was the father of her two babies, I've always kept it quiet even after Betty and her father sleep together, I have a lot of love for the kids, they're very lovely. I feel lucky that they see me as their Grandma but to be honest, I feel with a lot of guilt for hiding this secret.
I was looking for a place to vent, where I could tell these events about which I have been a witness. I told them to a good friend of mine and she offered to send them to Bunnyofdaddy and post them on her P! page so that you can give me your opinion. This isn't a story meant to entertain or anything like that. I just want to know what I should do in my situation.
That's why I'm putting you in the picture about me and my family.
To be honest, I don't know what to think. The truth is that at first I would have said it was wrong. I would have been disgusted. That is to say, a father and daughter who sleep together. That's a mess. I would have gone to report it. Because this incest thing, I mean, it's a crime.
But seeing how they love each other. You don't know how much they love each other. It's something you have to see to understand. There has never been a father and daughter who loved each other as much as they do. He is so tender. Not the typical pervert one would imagine in such cases. He's a very attentive, very educated man...
They're a family with a lot of money. From prestigious architects. I won't mention the name of the family out of respect for their intimacy. But they're very well-known. I worked at a very good restaurant, in the luxury sector, as a chef and the father managed to convince me to work for him by offering me conditions that were more than decent. A much higher salary, contract, social security, etc.
The poor man had been living alone with his daughter since she was little. Her mother was an alchoholic and had abandoned them for a bartender who gave her free alcohol. He had completely devoted himself to Betty, the girl. He hadn't remarried.
No matter how multimillionaire you are, it's very difficult to replace in a child the love of a mother. But he had done it very well. A great father, although I always thought he coddled her too much.
Pure-blood horse, the most expensive toys, the most chick clothes.
The girl had perhaps more than what is advisable for a girl. She was his pet. His darling.
When she arrived at adolescence, she had an infinity of creams, jewels, dresses, perfumes, artistic objects. Everything brought from all corners of the world. Her father would go to great lengths for her.
And he still does. And she also takes care of him.
She always keeps an eye on making sure her father has his favorite dishes at the table. Of getting him the best gifts.
She gives him massages on the back. Accompanies him on all his trips. Goes out with him a couple of times a week to some restaurant and they practice sports together every day.
I don't think, honestly, that the father would have entered into such a dynamic with his daughter if it weren't for how scarred he was from his experiences with women.
He's a very attractive man despite his age. I'm not exaggerating when I say he's like Harrison Ford, seriously, he's just like the actor.
I always told my friends when I started working here that he takes such good care of himself with all those gyms and strict diets...
I confess that when I arrived at the house I harbored some vain hopes of being a kind of pretty woman and falling in love with this tasty and attractive mature man. Enter as a cook and maid and become the mistress of the house.
But soon I realized it was just dreams. He was only interested in young girls, empty-headed blondes twenty years younger. Who also took advantage of him. Because they were girls who only came for his money. I don't know how he did it, but the man always found the worst women. The worst thing in the world. And look, he's always been a solo one.
Seriously, a wonder. He had them all at his fingertips. And when he fell in love, he lost his head. And gave them all their whims. Everything was given to them.
But of course, he was always for... Before her Betty, her little one. And the other girls were always jealous of the girl, who was almost at the age of consent. And they always tried to make the little girl's life impossible. Yella was furious to see what they did to her father. But what was the girl going to do! He didn't want to see them taking advantage of him and doing whatever they pleased. Even if you're handsome and smart, when you're a millionaire and go with girls so young, it's inevitable that they'll be alone for you. But he didn't get into his head. And every time they argued more and more. And yet they loved each other. But she felt impotent and they were poisoning him against her daughter. One of the girls even screamed like a madwoman while making love with the father and I'm sure it was her way of annoying Betty, clearly that much scandal didn't have any other purpose. I don't know exactly when everything changed. I started noting small things. A little later after the man broke up with a particularly stupid girl. The first thing that seemed strange to me was the change in Betty's clothes. I would arrive at the house and find her with shorts that showed more than they covered. She would walk around, parading in front of her father like that. With transparent blouses. Picartries. And her father would scold her. But she wouldn't pay attention and when he was watching TV, she would pass right in front of him a thousand times. I thought it was just things of the age. But then there was the thing with not wearing underwear. And many times, when her father was downstairs, she would call out to him from upstairs on the stairs and say some silly nonsense. With her legs open. You could see everything about the girl. And so tall and so blonde. The little girl was sculptural. The man is not made of stone no matter how much he likes it. He didn't know where to look. He would get very flustered. Then there was also the thing with being a big liar. Constantly things would fall, notes, pens... any excuse to sit on her father's lap in front of him. Always without saying... Briefs. And the other thing from the shower. Whenever he was giving himself a shower, he would casually forget something in his father's bathroom. And he would go off like that, with the towel half-fallen to look for whatever it was. And I would follow him discreetly so as not to miss anything and see how his father looked at her with his mouth open. And he couldn't take his eyes off the girl and she with the towel that if it fell here or there while asking where something was, what I don't know, but couldn't manage to answer. She would take advantage of any opportunity to show him things.
Another thing was when eating ice cream, or carrot, or anything. Because at that time he had a preference, which I swear wasn't casual, for long things. And he ate in a way that wasn't normal. He attracted his father's attention somehow in a conversation about something. The topic was staring at him fixedly and licking, for example, the strawberry ice cream. Like that with the tongue slow. Once or twice with the tongue. Come on, it's like you're going to hit me. As if he were licking something else you can imagine.
And he wouldn't dare say anything. I wonder what he would say. It was all too subtle. It was evident but subtle. I don't know how to explain it.
Then the massages started. I was already getting a little alarmed. The excuse usually was that they were massages. She had been giving them since she was a girl. But lately, it was more than obvious that they weren't like always and now that she was already most of the age. Especially when she got to the leg area. I particularly remember one day when I was cleaning over there. In another room, but because the living room door was glassed and I was cleaning a door that faced the living room which also had an acrystalized door, I could see them in the reflection.
She was giving a massage and he was wearing only a bathing suit. With his white toenails immaculate, she started to climb up her father's legs, who was lying on his back and putting his fingers, like someone who doesn't want it, under the bathing suit in small strokes. It didn't surprise me at all. A lump began to form in the father's lower back. Then he tried to turn around but she, I suppose, would say (I'm not sure because I didn't hear them well from there) but by her lips I thought I understood: -Nothing about that, now it's my turn. Then the father sat down, trying to hide his excitement and she lay down with her head on the father's lap so he could caress her hair. But I noticed she wasn't stopping moving her head as if to one side or another. Rubbing against the father's lump. As if she hadn't found a position yet. And the father's face, I swear it was a poem. And then he looked at her in a different way. With desire. But tried to calm down. In another massage she gave him on his face and chest, I remember she sat suddenly astride over him. Like an Amazon. He told her to get off but she protested: that yes, daddy, and didn't want massages anymore, if daddy was being very strange with her lately, if he no longer wanted... Finally the father let her do it and she, in a mini skirt and probably without underwear, like so many days, wouldn't stop moving over the father who only wore his bathing suit. I played dumb. I left and spied on them from the reflection we mentioned earlier. And admit that I was getting turned on. And I know perfectly well that's not right. But it's just that separated by such a thin sheet, you can imagine the father's penis almost entering her. And she wasn't being coy and was moving forward and backward. Not exactly massage movements. I even saw him grab her waist while she moved like that. And every time the girl moved faster, and already didn't bother to create an appearance of massage. She just put her hands on her father's chest and rode him. I saw her like that, so sexy, with that red and long hair, so thin and impressive legs that looked great In that position. Climbing up and down on the lord, who held her with force. I could imagine the spectacular image he would have of her bouncing breasts in front of his face. Because she was wearing a white, inner, almost transparent bra that was very loose at the top, which undoubtedly left her completely visible breasts, precious, large, and with the smoothness typical of young age. And it's true that she is not just any girl. And I'm sure he would see her with motherly eyes, but never a more beautiful girl.
And there she was moving in that way. With his penis thrusting into her vagina like a barrier. And that penis was her beloved daddy's. Everything was getting me so excited that I brought my hand to my clitoris and touched myself while watching them.
They kept at it for a good while. It's possible that one or both of them reached climax in that way. I don't know anymore. I didn't stay until the end. I was worried about being caught.
Around then, kisses started on the mouth. The first one I remember was a very hot summer day. They went up to the roof to take a shower with the hose. It was a game they had always played.
I went up to retrieve some things I had left out, to see if they would get wet from all that water.
She ran around here and there while he sprayed her with the hose and she, fleeing, kept moving away until she reached a fence where she couldn't run anymore. He chased her down and grabbed her from behind. I don't think he had any intention of being lustful. But she put her butt out a little bit and tilted her head to one side like that so he could kiss her.
He backed off, but she turned around and said:
I love you very much, daddy!
And gave him a strong hug, clinging tightly to his body, just as it was, with the bikini and full of water. And kissed him on the mouth. I can assure you that they went at it for a good while.
And then the girl got up and left, and the father stayed there, petrified, poor guy, with a enormous heat that I would have liked to relieve myself in. And then came the goodnight kisses. He always gave her a chaste kiss on the face before she went to her room to sleep. But she put her mouth on him and hugged him, trying to rub against his father's package with her knee. Besides, every time we tried to prolong that kiss. And he sometimes pretended to resist, but more often, he also hugged her back and responded to that kiss as if his daughter were a girlfriend.
In that period, the father had stopped being just a father and was bringing his girl more gifts than ever. If before he had been devoted to her, now he was even more so. There were more gifts, more love. I think he had fallen deeply in love with his own daughter. And he still is. Now much more, of course.
The next thing that happened was the nighttime fear. Like the fear of storms. She never had been afraid of anything. Always a very brave girl. But suddenly, during those summer storms, Betty would say she was very scared and get out of bed in the middle of the night, wearing a white T-shirt from her father's, which she liked to sleep in, with nothing underneath, and go to her father's room.
I don't know if it was the first time I realized what was happening that day or if it had happened before. I think it was the first. I heard her breathing through the hallway. Since my bedroom is located between theirs.
I couldn't help but, piqued by curiosity, go out and see what was going on without her noticing. The father always sleeps with his door slightly ajar, I suppose due to his great protective instinct and the lady didn't close it so as not to make noise, because the doors are old and creak terribly when you open or close them.
So I could see everything through the gap. Plus, the room was illuminated in spectral flashes by the storm. Little Betty approached her father's bed, it seems he was still asleep:
-Papá, tengo miedo de the storm can I sleep with you?
The lord hesitated for a moment:
-Well, just for a moment, but when the storm passes you'll be gone to your room.
-Thanks, daddy.
Then she got into bed and started kissing her father on the neck, face, and mouth, thanking him for letting her sleep there.
But he got angry and told her to go to sleep. Then she disappeared to sulk and turned around. When she turned around, she lifted her shirt a little and her butt was quite exposed. I could see it perfectly because they hadn't covered themselves with the sheet. It wasn't cold at all despite the storm.
The two of them were lying on their backs, one facing the other, and I thought about going to sleep too.
But then she said:
-Papa, hug me, I'm scared. Please.
-You're a major, you shouldn't be afraid at 19 almost 20 years old.-
I thought he would refuse. But he turned around and hugged her. Since it's summer, the lord only sleeps in his underwear.
She took advantage of it to push her ass against her dad's cock, which was already quite erect.
She didn't wait long before starting to move her bum back and forth. At first, she did it slowly and trying to make it seem casual.
The father at first stayed still, but then started playing the same game.
He hugged her while moving, poking her but with his underwear on.
The girl whimpered softly. He was slowly lifting her shirt, directing his arm upwards. Until he reached the height of her breasts.
The father started to grope her tits, with force but slowly, maintaining the fiction of the hug.
But she wasn't fooled and directed her hand towards his thigh, stretching her arm back.
She caressed him a little outside and pressed his penis without moving his underwear.
But when she tried to take it off, he got scared and moved back a bit.
She responded by sticking to ass and pulling a strong tug downward on the father's underwear. The penis came out of the fabric quickly, bouncing like it had been fired. Yella squeezed it with her hand and shook it. While taking it in her hand, she adjusted her body, positioning herself just above the tip of the cock. The girl placed her hand on the device of her daddy in the ideal place so that he would only have to make a small movement upward. She was squeezing the entrance of her pussy over the vibrating cock of the father. Both continued moving provocatively. The father rubbed the vagina of the girl repeatedly without penetrating her. I thought about entering and interrupting them before they committed the impending madness, but I was so excited that I could only contemplate the scene, involuntarily becoming a co-conspirator in this story. The father moved his hip with such force into the entrance of his daughter that I thought it seemed he didn't want to penetrate her, due to how hot they must have been, the cock would go inside her. The father suddenly stopped. He ceased his movements and the girl also froze, surprised. He kissed her neck and pressed her breast. Then, unexpectedly, he took hold of her waist, as if to keep her quiet, and pushed it all in without hesitation. Betty let out a scream and I couldn't believe what was happening. The gentleman was drilling his daughter like I didn't imagine a man over forty could do. He did it with the speed and passion of a seventeen-year-old boy. And he kept saying her name: Betty, Betty; while he was screwing her. She was moaning in pleasure and pain. And her daddy's cock must have been pushing all the way up to her testicles judging by the father's thrusts. I was masturbating at the door with the scene. Betty's tits, with her shirt lifted, were bouncing uncontrollably. The poor girl was screaming, unable to restrain herself, and the father, far from losing control, increased his power and said: My love, my love. I saw Betty's mouth, open while she was moaning, with her trembling and rose-colored lips. Her breasts were bouncing at the rhythm they should have been at, like eggs in a father's hands. The gentleman's penis, inside that young cock, something younger than all the young ones he had tried, must be enjoying it like never before. Then the father warned the girl that he was going to come and Betty said: -I love you. Then he, in several final thrusts, strong but slower, unloaded all his semen into the interior of his beloved daughter. The next day, the two went away, I suspect they took the morning-after pill or something like it. Because I suppose the gentleman would suddenly be overcome with conscience. I washed the sheets and found them slightly stained with blood. It's possible that Betty was deflowered that night, but I wouldn't put my hand on fire to say so. Maybe she was starting her period or anything else. That didn't happen just that one night. First as an excuse for the pains and finally without excuses, they continued performing this type of depraved acts. I feel trapped in a deep excitement that I hadn't felt since I was a young girl. All day I spend it feeling horny with those and other images roaming my mind. But my conscience is corroding me. Maybe I should do something. I need help. On one hand, I deplore what they're doing, on the other it excites me, on the other I understand them. She wants to protect her father so he's not taken advantage of him. She wants to love her father like none of his girlfriends have been able to, as he deserves. As for him, he has tried to resist. But with a daughter as lovely, adored and spoiled as this one. It was hard for a solitary man, and I repeat that he's charming, to repress his instincts. A few years went by until the little Betty who was now 22 years old spoke to me and asked if I wouldn't mind having a salary increase, to which I said yes and she told me she was pregnant and needed someone to be her baby's nanny. Welcome to it, after I found out about Betty's second pregnancy, I was the father of her two babies, I've always kept it quiet even after Betty and her father sleep together, I have a lot of love for the kids, they're very lovely. I feel lucky that they see me as their Grandma but to be honest, I feel with a lot of guilt for hiding this secret.
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