I Fucked Your Dad (Trans Woman & cis male, MtF, anal, oral, cock worship, slice of life)

The truth for Erin was that everything felt hard fought; she felt nothing really came easily to her; even her identity was a war. She made the grade easily enough; that wasn’t really the problem; in fact, she was kind of doing miraculously well compared to some of her peers when it came to actual school. Navigating the social minefield—that was another story.

Her voice had a slight timbre, and while her hips were wide, her bust was still rather petite, with a slightly angular face under brunette hair. She took time with her hair every morning, did well to make sure her makeup was good, dressed in a feminine flare, she had to, and had to take extra care to pass. If she didn’t feel feminine, it was hard to feel herself, even if it was just a flash of pink or a blue, pink, and white pin on her cap. She always did this.

College came with its own set of realities outside of her new lifestyle, far from outside eyes, far from family, and far from people who forgot her name or got it wrong, aggressively, or accidentally, interchangeably. A chance not to reinvent herself but to be her authentic self. A chance to drink when it didn’t go her way, which seemed to be more than not this past few weeks, or at least since her 21st birthday, whenever that was.

Since it had been a bit of a blur, she was no longer at the mercy of a friend or fake ID; she was no longer at the mercy of circumstances when she wished to assuage her awkwardness with a drink. Today was no different; today was not special; today was tipsy; she was tipsy.
She’d been heading home, toward the dorms, at a hurried pace. Erin’s head was down, and her arms clutched a paper bag with a bottle, deciding she’d best get a second bottle before stores closed or she had to ask Matt for some of their beers. They always made her feel bloated and texting her ‘dormie’ to raid their fridge was unpleasant at best. They shared keys and had few boundaries between them; they were close.

Into Campus, over the quad, through Blue Building and into residence Erin hurried, brisk winter air nipping at her nose. She’d nearly made it inside her building and toward the set of halls she called home when a familiar face came to view and clocked her almost immediately. Alec, she was surprised he recognized her from the front; he only ever seemed to stare at her ass.

It was awful to admit, but in this moment, the affirmation of anyone staring was kind of comforting, comforting in a completely abysmal way, a completely shameful way, one that made her cringe because the moment he greeted her “Hey, Erin!” with a bright eye, she prepared to lay it on, lay it on thick.

She didn’t want him to know how she was feeling, that she’d been drinking on a random Tuesday afternoon, that she was a mess. “Hi Alec,” Erin greeted him with a brighter than intended sounding lilt, “I ahm, meeting Matt, then?” putting on that octave higher customer service voice she reserved for parents and cute boys, telephone conversations with people of relative importance.

Who did she have to impress?

Alec is objectively handsome, with stylish glasses and wristwatch, salt and pepper, dad shade, a gristly voice, and a 25-dollar hair cut. Alec wasn’t precisely her type, but daddy issues were close to home, and he flagged daddy. She gulped, and he nodded with an endearing look. “Who else would I be here to see?” teasing her, he looked her over twice, and she felt it. She felt his eyes on every inch of her body, felt him tracing her camisole, where her cardigan got slinky around her hips, her mom jeans, maybe even the little lump she neglected to tuck, and her trunky thighs. He was eating her with his eyes. . .

“He-heh, sure. Well, uh, I’m going to go.” She murmured awkwardly as ever, pulling a brunette curl where it belonged, behind her ear. Erin began her escape, nearly pushing past him. She felt herself say, “Ouhff!” Stumble, missing a step, she toppled downward; she nearly lost her bottle too!

“W’oah There!” Alec exclaimed and caught her around the stomach before she ate the staircase. It was a little early for dinner. “Careful Erin!” Smelling the alcohol on her, he smirked. He too remembered college, remembered drinking a bit more than was appropriate, and remembered making some choices he probably would regret in the morning.

Erin looked shocked, their bodies so close, she hadn’t felt another hand on her body in so hopelessly long, she was starved for that, starved for more than just a grope or grind at a party, more than another girl affirming her with a Yas queen! She was starved for more than just compliments like "what a pretty name!" and other such kindness, whether genuine or not. “I, er, ahm—" entirely endeared, entirely so she was starved for more than just compliments like "what a pretty name!" and other such kindness, whether genuine or not. She was starved for more than just compliments like "what a pretty name!" and other such kindness, whether genuine or not. ok she grimaced. It was so easy for her hormones to go out of wack, to jump up and down, to take her from hopeless and tipsy to acutely aroused and beyond needy. “Yeah! I’m such ah-well..." anyway, "Thanks, Alec," she said, smiling. She broke from his body and tried to make a quick exit before she embarrassed herself further.

Making a break for the door Erin nearly excused herself entirely—almost nonverbally, for that matter—when Alec reached for her hand, watching her wide ass, as was tradition. “Hey, Erin?” Looking at her with expectation, looking at her like she knew what he was thinking, like the power of suggestion or mental melding could convey what he wanted in that moment!

“… Erin?” He finally gestured to the door and asked, “Do you mind?"

“Oh!” It dawned on her, “I thought 'er,"—you meant sex. She floundered for a second, internally devastated, devastated for a gambit of reasons, a gambit of emotions: “I thought maybe Matt was coming down; do you need in, Alec?” She finally caught up, and Alec nodded graciously.

“The front desk won’t give me a up, not without Matt or another student, eh-heh. You wouldn’t mind letting me, yes?" They briefly spoke over each other as understanding became clear, a mixed bag for them each in a different sort of way. Alec for not taking his chance; Erin for much the same; he stared, but that was all. “Thank you, Erin.”

“Of course!” She tittered politely and waved an ID card under a reader, granting them entry through the door closest to her and Matt’s rooms, respectively; there was no need to navigate the main entrance or front desk, for that matter. The two started toward her floor, and where they’d inevitably veer off is Matt’s exact room down the hall from hers. It wasn’t that she was mulling it over; maybe that was the issue; she made a choice, though. Erin stopped and looked at Alec, trying to find her words.

“You can wait with me if you would like. . . I mean, you don’t have to stalk the halls waiting for Matt to show up; why don’t you come hang out in my room?” She smiled, though inside she was a little uneasy. Inside, she had a nagging feeling she might regret this.

Alec seemed all too agreeable; happy to oblige, he followed her into her small dormitory room.

Erin’s room was decorated relatively sparsely, with an obligatory set of pride and trans flags over her Ikea bed, a desk with a laptop and docking station, a screen, a lamp—nothing special really, but enough character to make it feel her own, a few nick knacks, and just enough mess for it to feel human. There wasn’t exactly a place for him to sit besides her computer desk, so she gestured to that chair after clearing it off and turning it around. Erin decidedly said, “I’ll sit here,” settling down on the edge of her bed with an awkward matter of her bottle.

Her mind circled back to Alec catching her, to the scent of his cologne and natural musk, while restrained, felt entirely overpowering in that moment. “So… Erin.” Alec hummed absently as he looked around the room. “This is you, then.” Smirking.

“This is me.” She agreed, biting her lip, with the brown paper bag and bottle sitting like a sore thumb between them, standing out. She’d set it on her desk, and she indeed felt it calling to her. She wanted another drink; she regretted inviting Alec in here; she regretted how inexplicably weak she felt next to him in that moment, not just because she wanted a drink but because...

“I’m so impressed with the beautiful woman you have become, er, are?” She cringed; this was not it—not the conversation she wanted to have. She wasn’t going to explain the ethos or trans world to an older gentleman half drunk and horny as she’d ever been, hormones out of whack entirely—that wasn’t what she got up for this morning! There was something else Alec could help her with, though—something seedy and gross and, fuck it.

“Thank you, Alec." She tittered, fake, turning on a giddy charm she didn’t know how to finger—one she was fabricating from pornographic places, one she’d seen in videos and read in fiction, one she imagined men would like—not exactly knowing firsthand but knowing enough to assume. “You really think I’m beautiful?” She batted her lashes, curled her hair around a finger, and crossed her legs a little. What was she even doing? This was her friend’s dad!

Alec was responding as she imagined, with smarmy sort of smiles and knowing grins, leaning in as if he were paying much closer attention. He prepared to list the reasons why, the changes. She stopped him before he could say, “Don’t tell me, show me.” She took the risk, so he didn’t have to.
He only hesitated for a moment—a very brief one at that.

The much older man reached across the gap from the computer chair to the bedside, putting a hand on one of her knees and squeezing gently. His hand was large, calloused but soft enough, and possessive, but not so much so that she felt handled. “Hi.” He murmured, and she smelled him again. She smelled him in earnest. An audible gulp from Erin arrived and passed, a small chuckle telling her that was okay before they kissed for the first time.

Erin pressed her lips to his, and he opened them, opened them, and slid her tongue inside with a groan that made her both cringe not because he was older, lecherous, a perve! —but because he turned her on so damn much.

Needy fingers exposed his top button and zipper, undoing his pants blindly while they kissed. Her ruby-red nail polish chipped, in need of a touch-up. “Woah there,” He teased her as she tried to fish him out through his undone zipper. He was surprised at how quickly things progressed, though he wasn’t criticizing her by any stretch. “Go on, you can touch it.” Indeed, he encouraged her.

Erin smiled nervously and started bending downward into his lap once he scooted his chair forward as far as he could with comfort. They were just inches apart now, knee in knee, postured toward one another. She found him, found his girth, and pulled him out while he pushed down his pants to his knees. The feminine need to feel needed, the feminine need to provide pleasure, and the feminine need to suck off someone stronger, powerful, and better off than herself came on strong, and she gave in entirely.

She didn’t exactly waste time with the fashion and passion of worship but did give his mushroom tip and smooch or two after licking her lips and breathed in deep the familiar but removed scent of man's crotch. She didn’t feel the same after estrogen; she didn’t even smell like her old self; she didn’t miss that smell so much as she longed to sap it off another human being, at least today. She wanted to smell, taste, feel the musk of Alec’s nuts, taste his cock.

His fingers were soon in her hair, tangling up the brunette strands while she opened wide. “Oh, fuck, that’s good, Erin.” He encouraged her more as her hot, wet tunnel opened for him, opened wide, and took the first inch or so of his erection. For some time, she just held on—held on to the taste, the feeling, the heat that was a hardened cock on her tongue—that was Alec’s hardened cock on her tongue. It felt supremely blissful, like what she’d been missing; even if he didn’t finish, there was a certain satisfaction in being penetrated, anal or oral; it didn’t matter; she didn’t need to cum to feel good about herself. This made her feel good about herself, though.
in that moment.

The man covered the back of her head with his hands and started to urge her down and urge her forward before she could get fully used to the sensation of him inside of her and in her mouth. A small sound of difficulty was muffled in his lap as she agreed to his will and agreed to the hands forcing her to take more. “Hnggf,"

“Don’t stop Erin." He huffed, not willing to tell her he hadn’t felt this good since Matt’s mom was still around. Her mouth was hot and velvety, and the wet slip of her tongue around him made it easy to feel good, making it easy to forget all about why he’d come here and focus entirely on something far more enjoyable. “Suck that cock.”

It was a moment of conflicting emotions - a mix of gratitude and disgust. gusting old man's words, his perverted, lecherous groan—but it still made her tingle with arousal, still made her hard. She felt herself straining in her own pants; she felt herself getting hot, gooey, and needier by the second, that warm fuzzy, ‘fuck me’ vibe filling her mind, getting stronger with every manic suckle.

She was not a dick-suck savant, but she knew her way around a tool from her own experiences. She knew what felt good and could apply that practically; she knew what she liked. Her lips wetted over and over, saliva rolling down his mast. She bobbed up and down, pulling in her cheeks to make a vacuum seal of sorts. Little noises of suction and slobber filled the dorm, filling the dorm between murmurs of approval and older men’s breaths.

His cock didn’t taste strong so much as it had the typical absence of taste she’d come to expect from a clean partner, the sort of off whiteness, or plain salt, that came with clean skin, eventually mixing with saliva to become something sweeter to her pallet. She licked and sucked, glided up and down, and continued to take Alec toward completion, to get him off there in her mouth, in her dorm, as her best friend’s dad.

--fuck.

He was easily six inches and change, above average; she wanted to feel him inside her but couldn’t take it there on her own. Instead, she pulled back and “Fwauh,” gasped for breath after licking her lips, enjoying the feeling, the taste, the act, sure, but upping the ante.

“Ouh, fuck yah—keep going, Erin.” The lecherous man told her, and she nodded.

“Yes, sir."

“Awh, hon—call me Al." He told her a name she’d only ever heard an older gentleman call her friend’s dad. She felt the gravity of what she was doing again, brow beating her with shame, but she didn’t stop. One of her hands wrapped his spit-slick pud and started to stroke—her other hand on his hip—to steady herself. “Keep suckin’ in."

Stunned for a moment, she finally nodded, "Okay, Al.” not like that. recovering from the awkwardness, she moved forward and opened. From her mouth, she let her tongue dip, rolling it over and around his angry mushroom tip while she jerked him off with her hand. Alec couldn’t let her do this all on her own; once again, his hands were in the mix, one on the side of her face, pulling back through her hair, and then “Grlk!” Pressuring her to take more of him, take all of him. his other hand too.

“Oh fuck, Erin—take it!” He grunted, and she almost gagged hard enough to have more regrets than just the BJ. She felt him throb with bliss inside of her and felt his balls against her chin, wrinkled and hairy. They jumped a little like he’d lost the war, but no, this wasn’t over. He released, and Erin launched backwards, a deep raspy breath sucking through her ragged windpipe and spit bubbles rolling down her chin. She quickly sapped them with her sleeve, her complexion ruddy and flushed from the breathless prison of his crotch she’d just spent a moment too long in.

Several breaths passed between them—several breaths where Erin was unsure if she wanted more or wanted him out!

Alec had seen that look on a young woman’s face before; he too was unsure where this would go, but when Erin reached for her drawer, he seemed satisfied, seemed ecstatic even. From inside came a bottle of jelly lubrication and a condom.

“We don’t need that.” He murmured regarding the condom, and while Erin hesitated, she agreed against her better instinct.

"O-... okay.” A small voice, a small yes, she agreed and opened her cardigan, removing it and her shirt too. Her little trainer ended up squeezed and groped, her breasts sore from E, from growing pains, from “Oaaauh,” his calloused hands taking hold and massaging roughly. She unclasped, and he pulled the bra away. Shoving her down onto her bed and following with her.

Alec was remarkably spry for an old guy; he tossed his stylish glasses and undid his watch, setting each down by the brown-bagged bottle she’d given her desk. “Uhhgh, Al!” She hissed as he started to suck on one of her small, dark nipples, the nub ground between his teeth as his hands adjusted on the bed. For that moment, his squelching suckles were muffled by her low groans into his salt and pepper hair. She kissed his crown and messed up his cheap haircut as he started to kiss down her body, down her stomach, and toward her. “Oh god.” Penis.

He did stop short, however, not getting there; instead, he yanked down her pants roughly and turned her over on her stomach. Instead, he revealed her plush, doughy ass and gave one of her pale cheeks a suckle, a sloppy kiss, and then a squeeze. He’d experimented in college, and he knew kids these days were into it. He'd eaten ass, and Erin’s wasn’t the first, though he wouldn’t make a career out of it.

The man popped his thumb in his mouth and slipped it between her cheeks, spreading them with one hand while his other. . . “Oooauh,” Elicited a long, throaty groan from Erin, circling her asshole, pressing and prodding the spiral of muscle, wicking away any unpleasantness before he replaced that digit with his tongue. While Alec had eaten ass, to Erin it was still a new sensation, still a learning experience, so to speak.

She grimaced and whined, writhed, and groaned, “O-ouah Al!” Dragging out his name on her tongue while he dragged his from her taint to her tailbone in a long, sweeping motion, he then returned to her pucker. After some laps, a few circling motions, and indeed several feminine, vulnerable mewls from Erin, his finger replaced his tongue, wedging its way unceremoniously into the tight hole his tongue had just occupied. “Al!” She exclaimed again, though the coo that followed showed she was far from upset or disappointed.

“You’re tight,” He said she didn’t need him to either; she felt it. She felt him not only wedge his fingertip to the first knuckle but start wiggling and worming deeper and further, grinding over a spongey bundle of nerves that had her quivering like a worm on her bedspread. Her mewls turned to gasps, and her gasps further still cried as he trained in on her prostate. He liked the sounds she made when he circled it and the way it made her twitch and move, but beyond that, he knew enough to know that rushing this was not in anyone’s interest.

His finger found a twin, two digits spreading Erin’s anus, opening, and closing like a set of scissors when they weren’t grinding over her prostate. “Hnnnggg, Al, ouah, Al!” Repeating that name so much, it felt dull on her tongue; it felt like she’d said it one too many times, and he’d not even gone all the way. – He was getting ready, though, getting closer to replacing fingers too, and he wasn’t moving backwards; it would not be his tongue replacing them.

He slid up her body, still stirring her backdoor with his fingers. “You’re such a little bombshell. Erin, I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since you, well..." He didn’t know how to delicately put it, and he knew explaining himself further wasn’t the answer here.

She grimaced and hushed him, “Fuck me, Al, put it in.” She didn’t want to hear that; she didn’t care to hear it; she just wanted to feel him inside; she wanted to feel his big fucking cock spreading her little fucking hole.

“Y’ah,” He agreed and slid his fingers out of her, wiping them off on her bed spread before the tube of lube was gestured toward. He took hold and squirted a fat lot out of his hand. He started to work it into his length and massage the jelly into his skin. She turned over onto her back and did the same, stealing the tube from him and getting some out on her fingers.

“Ou, it’s cold.” Erin tittered nervously, circling her work, and swelling hole, the glistening clear gel covering her, lubricating her better than saliva alone could hope to. There was a pregnant pause, and for a moment, the heat drained from the moment as the old guy looked down at her, jerking himself off. What was she doing?! She agonized over it all before reaching around her body and spreading her cheeks, her deflated cock hanging slightly to the side.

“It’s okay,” each of the lubed and ready-to-rock, "C'mng..." He huffed as his head pressed into her rear. “Relax,"

She did, reminding herself to breathe in deep and “Ooooouhhh,” moan out lowly, almost a purr, though it sharpened to a yelping hiss as he urged forward, urged inside. His cock felt bigger in her rear than it had in her hand or mouth; it felt bigger than the boys she’d had before him or her battery-operated boyfriend, the one a bit deeper in her desk drawer. It was almost too much for her to handle, but she was a good sport. She breathed deeply and looked up at him with an open mouth and eyes, with flaring nostrils and a twitching cock. It was a lot.

Alec was kind, gentle, and understanding enough to give her a moment to adjust to this, to the girth of a full-grown man cock, his D.I.L.F. dick not digging deeper till she was ready for him. “Fuh-hu-hmmmmnnnng,” Erin whined and bit down on her lip before asking, “Fuck me, Al, fuck my ass.” It was hard to speak; she never said much in these sorts of situations; she just grunted and moved, letting her body do the talking, but she was desperate, and he’d warmed her up with every step; he’d encouraged this; he knew exactly what he was doing.

Hot hands glided over her body, holding her shoulder and hip as the older man leaned down and inclined his hips so they moved forward with him, his member slowly working deeper and deeper still into her hot body, her hot, fighting hole, every inch a battle. "God, you're" tight, he grunted.

She hissed back, “I know."

His eyes were telling her it wasn’t a problem for him; he seemed pleased; it seemed like he was either hurt or in bliss, and she knew which. Once he’d hilted himself, at least as far as she could tell, at least far enough his nuts were touching her body too, she started to grind and wobble, started to move enough that it stirred her much like her fingers, a combination of pain and pleasure in equal parts rolling around inside of her body, a mixture of utmost animal need for more and regret for letting herself get here.

Don’t think of that, don’t think of matt, don’t think of anything but this!—she thought to herself before reaching around him and holding him from the back, digging fingers into his shoulder and side, trying to catch him so he could find more purchase, so he could grind and squish, and pound her prostate into utter oblivion—he was starting to.

Alec was intensifying his thrust, doing so ever more forcefully, his muscular thighs clapping her rear. er rear. The sounds of squelching, of clapping, of flesh on flesh, and of audible pleasure that rifled up throats and whistled through lips filled the room. She was getting close, close enough to feel the spiky ball of her anal orgasm begin to bubble up and begin to reverberate just inside her, just at the tip of his cock in her body, rearranging her guts.

clap-clap-clap. . . no more, he stopped and pulled out, only to flip her over onto her front a small sigh, she’d been so close! A moment passed and the pressure returned, penetration and purchase following. He worked his way back inside and thwapped! Gave her a playful spank, then another, groping and gripping her doughy cheeks after, grinding his hands into the red prints left behind.

Erin gripped her pillow, hugging it to her chest. She felt sweat starting to collect on her scalp under her brunette locks, felt her insides hot and quivering, felt him coring her out thrust after thrust, felt him growing erratic and throbbing, and “I’m getting close." She felt that too, feeling him just as desperate for a cum as she was.

He pushed her down by her shoulders and climbed up to a squat. The man fucked her with intensity, a command of power, and a skill and technique she’d never experienced. It was beyond wild; it was “Oaaauh! So good, so good, so good!”

“Say my name,"

She cringed, “Fuck me, Al,” but did it, "Al-ha-haal."

And he did too. He fucked her hard, pulling out and jerking himself several times just to ram back in, “Ughnn,” the violence of his sudden vigour leaving her stunned but also reeling with the utmost of pleasures, reeling with enjoyment. He did really know what he was doing!

Finally, though, his skill was lost to his desire, his pleasure, his libido, and indeed his endurance. “Hffk!” His cock throbbed after several erratic thrusts. He buried himself deep inside her, and she too whined and felt herself spasm with it, with pleasure, with an orgasmic eruption that was her spiky little ball, deep in her bowls, bursting.

It was like a chemical reaction that came in perfect timing: his seed rushing into her bowels set off a chain of events, set off her own orgasm, and set off a reverberating, spine-tingling, starburst of “Oh yes!"

After some grunts, some huffs, some puffs, and “That was,” confessions of enjoyment, “So good, Erin.” She recoiled into her sheets; she felt his seed bubbling in her behind; she felt it in and out of her battered hole. She bit her lip and felt the cold chill of almost instant regret. Post-orgasm clarity was a total motherfucker.

Cold tingles wrapped her body; she assuaged them with a blanket and pulled it around herself, over her bare breasts and tum, a small tent at the front from her half-hard pud. “Y-yah. That was good.” She murmured, pulling some hair behind her ear.

He stuffed himself back into his underpants and jeans, standing up and putting his watch on again. Adjusting his clothes, he chuckled softly. Still got it, eh?

“You should go."

Maybe not. Had what?

“Eh?” Alec looked cluelessly, then huffed, "Yeah, that’s true.” Realizing this too, he may have crossed a line himself, fucking his son’s friend.

The two wordlessly stared at each other for a moment, still breathing heavily, still a little sweaty, and parched. “Glass of wa-"

“Matt should be home soon,” She reminded him why he was there and gestured to the door, the icy chill of a guilty conscience tickling her spine and tapping on her shoulder. Alec got the picture, collecting himself and making his way to the door.

“I, uh... yeah.” He didn’t thank her; she didn’t thank him; in fact, neither said another word, Alec leaving, still smelling her on his fingers, Erin falling into her sheets and deflating, unsure how she’d ever face Matt again, knowing what she’d done, knowing: I fucked your dad.