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Forced Impregnation 2: Crashing My Daughter's Wedding

I wanted her. I wanted her badly. But being her father, she was the forbidden fruit. Now that she was married, however, I couldn't bear the thought of her getting nailed by that creep. My initial thought when I barged into her hotel room in the middle of the night, was just to kick his fucking ass to the sidewalk.


Excerpt:

Well, not really her wedding. Rather, her wedding night.

I'll admit. I was a bit drunk. But that damn husband of hers, Roger, was a no good, two timing sonofabitch and I'll be damned if I was going to let him knock a baby into her virgin womb.

My daughter, Sophia, was the light of my life. Standing at nearly 5'8", she was a tall gal with long, wavy blonde hair, deep, sea green eyes and a bosom that could smother any man.

See, I'd secretly had a crush on my baby girl. Now that she was eighteen, she'd blossomed into the woman I always knew she could be. Long legs, seductive smile and a face that could melt steel.

I wanted her. I wanted her badly. But being her father, she was the forbidden fruit. Now that she was married, however, I couldn't bear the thought of her getting nailed by that creep. My initial thought when I barged into her hotel room in the middle of the night, was just to kick his fucking ass to the sidewalk.

But when I saw her laying naked in the bed, her large breasts heaving up and down and his cock mere inches from penetrating her pristine pussy, I lost it.

"Get the fuck out! And get the fuck out now!"

"Daddy!" Sophia tried to cover herself, but I quickly grabbed the sheet and tore it away from her. Her cuck of a husband jumped out of bed, scrambled to get his pants on and raced out the door. He didn't even utter a peep.

Which was smart as I was holding my Glock.

"Daddy! What the fuck do you think you're doing barging in here like this?" She tried to stand, but I shoved her back down on the bed. She tried to scream, but I pistol whipped her face and told her to shut up.

"What are you doing?" She sobbed as she rubbed her cheeks.

What was I doing? I was mere inches from my daughter's naked, delectable virgin body and my heart thrummed mightily in my chest. Was it just the beer? Why was I doing this? Without another thought, I kissed my daughter's salty tears away. I set the gun down and fondled her soft, silky body. Her breasts felt so pert and ripe in my hands and her lips – oh God, her lips – they made me lightheaded, they made me swoon with excitement.

She tried to pull away, but I was too strong for her and pressed her back on the bed and pinned her arms to the side. As I held her there, I studied her delectable body. She was entirely naked and had been moments away from being defiled by a beast. I wanted to be the one to the defile my newly wedded eighteen-year-old daughter.

Why?

Because I wanted to knock her up. There, I said it. I had deep fantasies that I'd shoved down in the darkest, dimmest recesses of my mind. But it had always been there. I'd always wanted to see my baby girl pregnant – not with some random cuck's baby – but with my own.

Her mother would absolutely destroy me if she knew that I was in her daughter's hotel room getting ready to knock a baby into her precious, eighteen-year-old womb.

But fuck her mother!

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  • PDF (63KB)

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