by KrosisOfTheCollective

Introduction:
This story is the property of the author. It may be redistributed, copied and stored without changes, though it is not to be used by commercial entities. Using this material in any commercial publication, including websites, without the express permission of the author, will be followed up with legal action. This fictional story was written for the entertainment of adults and should not be viewed by those under the legal age.
This is a story of casual, unprotected sex, and is a work of fiction. In real life, use a condom, damnit! Unwanted babies, HIV and all sorts of lesser sexual diseases await the idiot who “dips his wick” or “rides the rod” without protection.

Stepfather Sleepwalking Surprise (MF, F-solo, inc, nc, oral, impreg, reluc)

by Krosis of the Collective

Fuck me.

People say that when life is getting them down. Something bad happens: “Fuck…me!”

If you think about it, why are you saying that you want someone to have sex with you when things turn to shit?

I’m thinking about this because that’s what happened. Life took a turn for the worse, and then…

Months ago…

At 18 years old you think you can take on the world; that you’re immortal. Usually something happens that, in no uncertain terms, tells you that you’re wrong. A broken bone, or a near-death experience in a car, or…

…or your Mom suddenly dying. One moment she was with us and life was good, and the next she was being rushed to the hospital. Soon after she was dead, the victim of a brain hemorrhage. The doctor said it could have happened to anyone.

But it wasn’t just anyone…it was Mom! My Mommy…

Dad took us back home after we left the hospital. It was just him and his two daughters now…well, stepdaughters. He had met Mom 11 years ago, when Stacy and I (I’m Robyn) were just 5 and 7, and they had married almost 2 years later. We didn’t remember our biological dad (BioDad, as Mom used to call him), who took off before Stacy was born. In our minds Cal was our Dad.

It took a while for all of us to get to sleep that first night. I just lay in bed, tossing and turning. Finally, it was 1 AM and I had to pee.

As I left my room I could sense someone was in the kitchen. My eyes adjusted to the light and I could see Dad shuffling about in there.

“Dad?” I called. He turned to me and seemed to pause. I moved closer. As I did so I realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt. And a moment later I realized he also wasn’t wearing pants…or underwear!

“Ack!” I gurgled, averting my eyes. “Dad! What’re you doing in here, naked?!” He didn’t answer. “Dad?” I turned back to him, keeping my eyes on his face. He just stood there.

“DAD!” I yelled.

He dropped like a stone. As he hit the floor he started screaming and screaming, his limbs flailing. Stacy bolted out of her room, looking as terrified as I felt.

I was about to call 9-1-1 when Dad stopped. Just…stopped. No movement, no noise. I leaned close and could hear him breathing slowly. He was asleep.

He seemed to be okay so we covered him with a blanket and went back to our own beds, frightened and confused.

In the morning Dad asked if he had been sleepwalking last night, as he had woken up on the kitchen floor. We said he had, and told him what had happened.

“I’m sorry girls,” he said, looking extremely tired. “I used to do that when I was growing up; haven’t done it in at least 15 years. Hopefully it won’t happen again, but if it does please don’t try to wake me. My doctor said that the shock could…”

We waited. Dad looked sheepish. “I have a heart murmur. A shock like that and I could have a heart attack. Just leave me to wander about…maybe lightly direct me back to bed, but no loud noises or jolting, okay?”

Stacy and I looked at each other. We could lose Dad too! We turned back to him and nodded. We would make sure he stayed safe.

We stayed home from school and Dad from work for a few days. When one of us would cry the other two would group hug so we could share strength. Dad hadn’t sleepwalked since that first night.

When the day of the funeral arrived we buried Mom and said our goodbyes. The rain made it seem like the whole world was crying, not just us. During the reception I decided to ask Gran, Dad’s Mom, about his sleepwalking.

“Oh dear, he’s doing that again, is he?” she asked, looking around for Dad.

I took her hand. “Gran, is it true that waking him up while he’s sleepwalking could kill him?”

She looked sad. “Yes, dear. I thought he grew out of it, but the recent loss of your Mom must have affected him deeply.” She thought for a moment. “He’ll need your help Robyn. Please do what you can for him.” It seemed like she wanted to say something else, but instead she patted my hand and turned away.

That night I awoke to the sound of the kitchen chairs being moved around. I grabbed my bathrobe and went to see what was going on.

Dad was in the kitchen again, as naked as before, moving the table and chairs into a new configuration. I realized as he pushed the end of the table against the wall that it made more space in the kitchen’s dining area, but now there was only room for 3 chairs. Was his subconscious trying to adapt to the new family dynamic by doing this?

When he was done I whispered that he should go to bed, and I gently steered him that way. He complied and then I did likewise.

Dad didn’t sleepwalk for a couple of days, and then one night I awoke to find that I was not alone in my bed!

I turned to see him sleeping next to me in the dim light coming through the window from the street lamp. He was just sleeping, not in that weird in-between state. He was, again, naked.

He was on top of the covers and I was under them, so I just let him sleep there and returned to dreamland. In the morning he was gone.

Dad, Stacy, and I returned to work and school, respectively. It was hard, but the familiarity of school made it easier as the day went on.

Not so for Dad. He was already home when we got back after school. He said he broke down and cried during a meeting and had to come home. We hugged him and had a good cry together.

In the early morning I woke up with “the itch”. I decided to have a shower and take care of it while everyone else slept. As the warm water cascaded down my (if I don’t say so myself) sexy teenaged body I played with my clit and dipped my fingers into my pussy as my other hand tweaked one of my nipples. Soon I was gasping and shaking as I came. It was a relief to experience some pleasure after the horrible week I’d had.

I dried off, tied the towel above my boobs so it hung like a short dress on me, and then opened the bathroom door to let out some of the steam that was fogging up the mirror.

That fogginess was why I didn’t see Dad coming up from behind me until his arms were around me, one hand going to my left boob while the other slipped under the towel, sliding up my thigh towards my pussy. He started to kiss the back of my neck.

“Oh!” I cried out in surprise, and then I mentally cursed myself. Despite this sudden crazy assault I realized that Dad must have been sleepwalking again, as he had never touched me in a sexual way; not ever. I needed to stop him, but not wake him up!

Except…his hand was manipulating my clit by this point. My towel had fallen to the floor, and his other hand, unblocked, was now squeezing my boob. I was completely naked, with my likewise completely naked stepfather sexually assaulting me in his sleep!

“Daddeee…” I hissed.

“Oh, Diane…” I heard him whisper, “I miss you baby.”

He thought I was Mom! What could I do?

I felt something hard bump the bottom of one of my butt cheeks, and I jumped. That…was that his cock?

Dad was actually pretty good with his hands. He was making my clit and boob feel really good. That, combined with the passionate kisses on the back of my neck, was starting to make the pleasurable feelings stronger than my fear.

Throw water in his face? Call out for Stacy? All of those would probably wake him up. Oh, right…

“Dad, go to bed,” I said quietly but forcefully.

In response Dad lowered his hips and I felt what was definitely his hard cock move under my butt and forward, the tip just about reaching its target. No, he mustn’t! “Dad…” I started to repeat.

Dad pushed my head forward over the sink, bending me over and giving him a better angle. I felt the tip of his cock nudge between my pussy lips.

NO! I tried to move to the side but by this time he had transferred his hands to my hips, shoving my pelvis forward into the front of the sink and holding me fast.

I felt his cock start to push into me slowly. “Daddeee, nooo…” I said, but not too loudly. My vagina was well lubricated from my shower masturbation; there was no pain as he pushed more of his cock inside me. In fact, I’m ashamed to say it but, it actually felt good!

‘No, not good,’ a voice somewhere in the back of my mind cried, ‘this is bad!’

Daddy pulled his cock out a bit and relief washed over me, but only for a moment before he pushed it back in harder, sinking it even deeper inside my hot, wet channel. I gasped at the sensation that I had only felt once before with a boy that had caught me in a weak moment a couple months back. That, however, had been with a condom, and this felt even better skin on skin!

No condom…oh God…as Dad once again pulled back a bit and then thrust even deeper inside me I struggled to remember my monthly cycle. Why couldn’t I think straight?

Dad thrust a few more times, getting deeper and deeper inside my possibly fertile pussy each time. Finally, he was pressed against my butt cheeks and his cock was all the way inside. I felt so incredibly full!

He moved his hands from my hips up to my breasts, squeezing and pinching. I really like playing with them when I masturbate…this additional pleasure didn’t help the situation.

Dad started to thrust into me, slowly at first. I was gasping, overwhelmed by the pleasurable stretching feeling of his thick cock sliding in and out while my boobs were being groped and my nipples tweaked. My mind, overwhelmed by pleasurable sensations, was no longer trying to work out how to stop this. Drool slipped out of the corner of my mouth.

Dad was now thrusting harder, getting a good rhythm as my hips rebounded off of the sink and back into his next thrust.

I felt it coming, a wave of energy rising like a tide from deep within my sex, growing with each thrust. ‘No,’ I said to myself, ‘no, I can’t cum on Daddy’s cock…’

The overwhelming sensations, combined with the thought of the forbidden thing Daddy was doing to me, set me off. I grunted, pushing back at his cock as it sawed into me, his thick shaft touching me where no one else ever had. “Aah!” I gasped, my pussy squeezing again and again as wave after wave of pleasure rolled over and through me.

Finally, shaking, my orgasm subsided. Miraculously, Dad hadn’t cum inside me while my pussy was massaging his cock, but his thrusts were getting faster, almost feverish in their intensity.

I could think better now. I couldn’t tell him he was fucking his own daughter, but…

“Cam, honey,” I said in what I hoped was close to Mom’s voice, “pull out, okay?”

Dad was really ramming it into me by this point. It was starting to feel good again.

“Please, honey, pull out!”

He was close…so close…

I had another idea: “Let me suck you off!”

Dad pulled out suddenly and turned me around. My legs, like spaghetti, couldn’t hold me up so I fell to my knees. Dad’s purple cock, which I could only describe as turgid, was right in my face.

I quickly took it into my mouth, or at least as much as I could get in my mouth, which was a little over half. I sucked on it, tasting salt from a dribble of liquid which came out of the tip. I had never given a blowjob before, so I didn’t know what to do besides suck.

With a frustrated sound Dad grabbed my head and started to thrust into my mouth. I did my best not to choke as his cock hit the back of my throat repeatedly. Within a few seconds Dad grunted and a torrent of hot, thick liquid blasted into my mouth. Some of it went directly down my throat. Some spilled out from the sides of my mouth.

Another spurt, this one smaller, splashed against the roof of my mouth, and then another. Finally, I pulled back and Dad’s cock slipped from my mouth. The last spurt from his cock sprayed lazily on my boobs. A splash of pearly white spilled out of my mouth, down my front and onto the bathroom tile as I coughed, choking, trying to swallow the rest.

Dad left the room. Within a few minutes I could stand again, though shakily. My entire torso was a sticky white mess, from my breasts down to my pubic hair.

Ack! Dad’s cum was soaking into my pubes! I had to get rid of it quick! I got back into the shower, blasting hot water on me and scrubbing hard to get that stuff off.

When I was done I toweled off again, though this time I made sure to keep the door locked, and thought about what had happened. Dad had fucked me! But it wasn’t actually Dad…he thought I was Mom. Is it rape when the rapist doesn’t know he’s raping? I didn’t have an answer for that.

What I did know was that Dad’s sexual prowess had brought me to a shattering orgasm. What did that mean? I had never thought about Dad in a sexual manner before, but his intensity, the taboo aspect of what we had been doing, and that big cock…

I didn’t have an answer for that either.

I was eating breakfast when Dad’s voice sounded from behind me.

“Hey, sweetie, how are you this morning?”

I jumped.

“Oh, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you, Robyn,” he said, getting some oatmeal.

I watched him as he got his breakfast ready, searching for any sign that what had happened earlier was purposeful rather than subconscious. He noticed me looking after a few minutes.

“Everything okay?” he said, concerned.

“Yeah,” I said carefully, “just…sore.” It was true; his cock had really stretched me.

Dad came to the table with his prepared oatmeal. “Don’t overdo it, honey. Too much exercise can be bad for you too.”

As he ate breakfast I excused myself and headed to school.

Dad was actually in his early 30’s. Mom had been older, almost 40, when she died. I thought about Dad, his smile, his hugs…trying to recall all the warm familial feelings as I sat in class.

Then, unbidden, the feeling of him pressing me against the bathroom sink as he sawed his cock into me, making me cum, washed over me. My nipples instantly got hard and I could feel my pussy start to lubricate.

I had trouble concentrating on my work. I crossed my legs, rubbing my thighs together, trying to scratch “the itch”. Finally, I excused myself to the washroom where I quickly rubbed one out.

When I got home Stacy and Dad were hugging on the couch, crying. They beckoned for me to join them. I hesitated, still remembering the last time Dad had touched me.

Seeing the confusion on their faces, I took a breath and sat on the other side of Dad, hugging him. His arm came around my shoulders as he and Stacy continued to cry.

His touch was warm and supportive; not at all sexual. If he wanted he could have moved his hand lower to my bum or slipped it around my back a little further to caress my breast and Stacy wouldn’t have noticed. He did neither.

This was the real Dad, the supportive, loving man who had come into our lives so long ago to raise children not his own. I relaxed against his chest.

That night I awoke to a hand on my hip, pulling my butt back into the little spoon position. The big spoon, of course, was Dad, his hard cock nested between my butt cheeks and his hot breath on the back of my neck.

Not again! I thought. Why hadn’t I thought to wear clothes to bed?

Dad’s hand slipped between my thighs and his fingers started to caress my pussy lips and clit. In my post-sleep brain fog I realized that I had just been woken from a sexy dream where a man who looked a lot like Dad had been fucking me from behind, much like Dad had done that morning. My pussy was already wet, and once Dad noticed that he shifted his hips down, his cock slipping out from between my butt cheeks. I then felt the tip of it nudging between my pussy lips.

I tried to move my body away but his hand had returned to my hip, holding me in place. I struggled to twist, to free myself. Dad grabbed my hip tightly and used it to leverage himself up onto his knees, trapping my lower leg under him. He grabbed my upper leg and pushed the knee high. He then returned his cock head to between my vaginal lips, pushing insistently.

“Nooo…” I moaned.

His cock slipped into me, the lubrication produced during my sex dream and the leverage this new position afforded him making it easy. I gasped as my stepdad’s thick, hard penis once again entered my inexperienced love channel, stretching it to accommodate. I also again felt the first stirrings of forbidden pleasure.

Dad pulled out a little — I knew better than to think he was pulling out this time — and then he pushed in again, this time hard, knocking the wind out of me. His cock rushed deep inside me, almost hurting as it stretched out the deepest parts of my vagina. Then, instead of pulling back for another thrust, he started to grind.

This was new. Because the base of his cock was right against my pussy lips, as he rotated his hips his cock angled itself deep inside of me, its head and hard shaft caressing the walls of my pussy. It slid along my inner flesh, first to the right, then upward, to the left, and then down towards my butt, which also caused the base of his cock to apply pressure to my clit. It felt incredible!

He did it again, swirling that hard dick and stirring up overwhelmingly pleasurable feelings deep inside me, where only he had touched.

I was gasping. Something was approaching, like an oncoming train, deep inside my body, the tunnel it was traveling through vibrating harder, harder.

And then I was cumming. I cried out in pleasure, my body shaking as my stepdad’s incredible rotation technique gave me the greatest orgasm I’d ever experienced.

Before that orgasm finished Dad started to thrust into me. My cum was extended by the unrelenting jackhammer that my Dad’s cock became. Soon he was pulling almost all the way out before jamming it home. I could swear I could feel his babymaker hitting my cervix.

Babymaker…cervix…

Mom had gotten a hysterectomy so she wouldn’t have any more kids before she had even met Dad. I’d never asked, but I was pretty sure that Dad was fully functional in that department, and my healthy young body definitely was! After what happened that morning I had calculated out that today, while not the most fertile time of the month for me, was still a dangerous day in my cycle because sperm could live inside the female body for several days. I couldn’t let him cum inside me!

“Cam, honey,” I called back to him. “let me suck you off.”

It worked again! Dad pulled out of me, leaving my vagina feeling suddenly, almost disappointingly, empty, and flopped onto his back next to me. I quickly rolled over, between his legs, and grabbed his cock.

I had done some Internet research on blowjobs, just in case this ever happened again. Using what I had learned, I licked the head of his cock while jacking the shaft with my hand. After a bit of that I opened my mouth wide and engulfed as much of it as I could. I experienced a perverse feeling of pride as I heard Dad groan in pleasure.

Research is one thing, but experience is another. While I had the know-how for a blowjob it seemed I wasn’t very good at it. I couldn’t get my mouth down Dad’s cock very far before gagging, so half of his shaft was neglected.

After a few minutes Dad made a frustrated sound and sat up. He hooked his arms under my armpits and pulled me forward, onto his lap. I could feel the hot, hard shaft of his cock under my pussy.

“No…” I said, trying to get away.

Dad pulled my head down and started to kiss me. I was so surprised I didn’t even think to stop him. His tongue snaked into my mouth. Dad was a good kisser and I had never been kissed like that before. Soon I started to return the kisses. My body felt so hot!

I felt one of Dad’s hands move down between my legs. I felt the head of his cock once again nestled between my vaginal lips. We continued to kiss. My nipples were tingling. It felt good, so good.

Dad’s arms encircled me tightly. I felt so safe right then. He would never hurt me, I knew. He pulled downward. I felt his cock slide into me again, easily. I gasped into his mouth. We continued kissing, more passionately this time.

I felt Dad’s hands on my hips again, urging me to move. I pulled up, feeling the skin of Dad’s hard cock sliding along the inner walls of my wet pussy. Then he urged me back down and I felt that wonderful friction again, but with the added pleasure of his cock filling me up.

He urged me up and down on his cock a couple more times before I took over. We hadn’t stopped kissing. I felt better than I had ever felt before in my life; happy, fulfilled. I loved my stepfather.

Dad moved his lips down to my neck and I started to bounce on his cock harder. I felt his hands move to my breasts. I was so close…

Any thought of the danger from what we were doing was gone from my mind, washed away by the pleasure of making love to my stepfather. As one of Dad’s hands massaged one of my breasts his other tweaked my other nipple.

That did it. I slammed my pussy down on his cock and groaned as electric bolts of pleasure shot from my breasts and clit and penetrated deep inside of me, meeting where the head of Dad’s cock was. My vagina spasmed around that hard prong, squeezing it, caressing it, demanding that it give up its precious cargo.

Dad grunted and I felt his cock somehow grow bigger. “Oh!” I gasped as it throbbed. I felt a spreading warmth deep inside me, and it heightened my own orgasm as my almost fertile reproductive system nursed the potent seed from my stepdad’s cock. “Ohhh!” I cried, shaking as it throbbed again. Another splash of my Dad’s seed was injected where nature intended for it to go. All the while my pussy rippled around my Dad’s erupting member, urging more and more of that forbidden babymaking substance to go deeper inside me.

Finally, I collapsed onto Dad, shaking uncontrollably. I could still feel his cock, weakly spurting out the last of his cum, probably right against my cervical opening.

“Uh…uh…uh…” I wasn’t shaking as badly now, but it still hadn’t stopped. I had never felt anything like that before.

After some minutes I was able to climb off of Dad. A splash of semen came out of me as his cock slipped out. I was suddenly afraid.

“Noo…noo…” I whispered, trying to get it out of me. I rushed into the bathroom and sat on the toilet, using gravity to help. After a few minutes the sperm stopped coming out and I dabbed the remainder away with toilet paper.

Deep inside me, the sperm that had been shot the deepest remained at the far end of my vagina, some of it soaking into my cervix and some lucky few had slipped inside my uterus, searching for the egg that would be showing up there within a few days.

When I got back to bed Dad was softly snoring. I couldn’t really blame him, as he had technically been asleep throughout the whole encounter.

‘What’s done is done,’ I thought as I climbed into bed and nestled my head into the crook of Dad’s shoulder.

I didn’t sleep right away, thinking about what I would do if I got pregnant. Tell Dad? That could kill him!

When I was tired enough I whispered to Dad that he should go back to his own bed. He did so, and then I was alone.

I cried myself to sleep.

In the morning Dad actually looked happy, although when I asked him about it he said he didn’t really know why; he just felt good that day. He went off to work, bewildered. I knew why: he was getting laid, even if it was happening while he slept.

That night I wore jeans and a flannel shirt to bed. If Dad came in I’d make sure they stayed on. What happened the previous night could never happen again!

Sure enough, I was awoken to Dad pawing at me in his sleep. He massaged my breasts through the shirt and kissed the back of my neck, both of which felt nice, but I kept my grip on the button of my jeans and didn’t let him take them off.

Finally, Dad left the bed. Thank God, I thought.

Dad came to my bed again the next night. As before, I didn’t give him what he wanted, and told him to go back to bed. He did so.

Next morning, Dad looked terrible, like he hadn’t slept. We were worried. When he got home he said he had been reprimanded for not paying attention, and for his poor attitude. Those dicks! The man had just lost his wife!

For the third night in a row I turned Dad away from my bed. I almost felt sorry for him, but what we had done could never happen again!

A few minutes later I heard Stacy scream. NO! I rushed out of my room and into hers. In the dim light I could see Dad was on top of her, though it seemed that he hadn’t been able to do anything sexual yet.

“Daddeee!” Stacy yelled. I rushed forward and clamped my hand over her mouth. She looked at me in shock, but I was looking at Dad’s face. He had paused…was he waking up?

I had to act. I grabbed his face and planted my lips onto his, kissing passionately. I felt him immediately relax, and then start returning the kisses, his arms going around my back.

“Robyn?” Stacy sounded scared and confused, understandably.

I broke the kiss and whispered to her, “He’s sleepwalking and looking for Mom. I’ll take him back to his room, okay?” I turned back to Dad. “Come on, Cam. Let’s go to bed.”

Dad followed me and I took him back to his bedroom. Once there he started to try to undress me again.

What could I do? If I didn’t make him happy he’s molest Stacy, and maybe even lose his job! I helped him remove my shirt and jeans, and then we climbed onto his bed.

‘Okay,’ I said to myself. ‘This time I’m going to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had.’

But Dad pushed me onto my back, got in between my legs, and dropped his face into my crotch. I gasped and lay back, experiencing cunnilingus for the first time.

“Holy shit! I’m going to give you just a half hour to stop that,” I whispered to him jokingly, and then I lay my head back, enjoying the new sensations.

Dad was as good at licking pussy as he was at kissing, although now that I think about it there is some crossover between those skills. He alternated between flicking my clit with his tongue, dipping his fingers into my pussy, and then swapping so his tongue was in my puss while his fingers manipulated my love button. He made me cum on his tongue within a few minutes.

“Uh…uh…uh…” I moaned as I came down from the orgasm. Okay, now I was going to suck him…

…off! Dad was between my legs in a flash, kissing me. No…I had to stop this…

I stopped the kiss. “Cam…” I said softly, “Let me suck you off, okay?”

I could feel his hard cock at the entrance to my vagina. A small part of me wanted him to push it in.

He did. “Oh!” I gasped, not expecting him to actually do it. He didn’t want a blowjob. Oh no!

Due to his saliva and the lubrication produced by my orgasm, Dad’s cock slipped into me easily. Within a few thrusts his cock was buried all the way inside me again.

He resumed kissing me as he thrust into me again and again. His hands moved to my breasts, kneading and lightly pinching the nipples. Damn my boobs! Why did they have to feel so good when he did that? I passionately returned his kisses. I could feel another orgasm coming on.

I whispered to him, “Please…I don’t…I don’t want to get pregnant.”

Upon hearing this Dad made an animal sound. He grabbed my legs and bent them back. I didn’t think it was possible, but he managed to hook them over his shoulders! I was now bent in two and, oh God, his cock actually felt even deeper than it had ever been before!

“Nooo…” I moaned as he started thrusting harder, faster. I couldn’t move, trapped under his body as he used mine as a surrogate for Mom’s. I suddenly remembered the occasional comment from Dad over the years that it was too bad he and Mom couldn’t have a baby due to her operation. I had said the exact wrong thing when trying to get him to stop!

I was having trouble breathing in this position. Dad was nibbling my neck now, his own breath ragged as he rammed his hard cock into me repeatedly. It hit the end of me again and again, knocking at the door to my womb, the pain of the assault on my cervix somehow combining with the pleasure of his incredibly hard member as it slid effortlessly into me, bumping my clit on each thrust.

I felt the energy build from deep within me, expanding outward from my deepest recesses. My breathing rate increased as I gasped, my hips shaking, my body laid open to my handsome, sexy, sleepwalking lover as he took me.

“No…noo…” I moaned. This was the absolute worst time of the month for him to cum inside me, but I was pinned! Daddy was going to cum inside me and make me pregnant! He was going to put his baby in my belly, and there was nothing I could do…

…other than to try to wake him up…but that could kill him!

These perverse, forbidden thoughts bounced about in my head as Daddy rammed his primed babymaker into me again and again, the pleasure he was forcing on me messing with my thought processes. There was a part of me that wanted this, wanted both of us to cum, and fuck the consequences.

That part won out. The buildup of energy within me culminated in a supernova of pleasure. I cried out as I came on my stepfather’s cock, shaking uncontrollably under him as he continued to piston into my unprotected and definitely fertile body.

My orgasm set off Dad’s. He grunted, his cock expanding inside me. It was now a battering ram against my baby gate, and that gate would not hold. I felt the rush of heat within me, as his rich, sperm-filled semen inundated the deepest part of my vagina, and it only made me cum harder.

My cervix opened and closed, kissing the tip of Dad’s cock as we came again and again. Hot, potent cum splashed against the entrance to my uterus, some of the spurts shooting straight through. The excess pooled all around my cervix as it spasmed, trying to draw all of the dangerous sperm that it could find into my defenseless womb.

I woke suddenly, not realizing where I was. Someone was on top of me, their cock in my pussy! My initial panic quickly subsided as I realized that I must have passed out from my last orgasm, and Dad must have fallen asleep after…

…after he…oh God…

Dad’s cock was keeping all of his seed inside my very fertile pussy. My legs had managed to slip out from under him but the rest of me was still stuck. I swear I could feel his semen dripping through my cervix and into my uterus as we lay there.

“Dad– er, Cam, honey,” I said into his ear. “I need to go pee.”

Dad grunted and rolled to the side, his softening penis slipping from inside me as it did so. Once again I experienced the feeling of emptiness. My body seemed to want his cock to stay inside it. ‘Bad body!’ I said to it.

In the bathroom I sat on the toilet for several minutes trying to get any of Dad’s cum to drip out. Barely anything did. His swimmers were going for the gold, it seemed.

I was going to get pregnant! A LOT of Dad’s sperm were right now deep inside my healthy teen reproductive system, looking for the egg I knew was either already there or soon would be.

Images from a movie in health class went through my head. I envisioned some of Dad’s sperm finding my egg, not caring that it was his stepdaughter’s, and attacking it, digging in with their little spermy heads. Soon, one would win out, piercing the layers and injecting that DNA load to mix with my own.

I gasped, a little orgasm running through me. My nipples were hard. I rubbed my belly lovingly. Whatever happens, happens, I told myself.

I grabbed my clothes and then went back to my own bed.

I slept in the next morning, since it was the weekend. Stacy slipped into my room to ask about what had happened the previous night but I didn’t say anything beyond that I had put Dad back to bed. She looked unconvinced and I wondered if she had actually heard us fucking. I didn’t ask though.

That afternoon I found Dad on the couch watching TV. I curled up in his lap, something that I hadn’t done in years.

“Everything okay, sweetie?” he asked, putting his arms around me.

“Just hold me, please?” I whimpered.

He did. Even though I was in his lap and I could feel his penis under me, it didn’t stir. This was a completely different man from the one who had been fucking me at night.

I went to bed that night without clothes, as I had done prior to the whole sleepwalking thing. I didn’t want Dad to try going after Stacy again.

Unfortunately, this meant that I didn’t have anything I could use to delay his advances. I had been tired all day and when I went to bed I had conked out quickly and slept soundly.

I dreamt of a faceless man slipping his cock into me as I slept, filling me up with his seed and not caring that I was unprotected and fertile.

When I started to wake up Dad had already gotten his cock inside me and was sliding it in and out vigorously. My sleepy brain was flooded with pleasure from the dream and a real fuck that was already halfway through.

I was lying on my back with my knees up. Dad was lying on his side under my knees, sawing his cock into me and holding one of my thighs for leverage. The fingers of his other hand were expertly manipulating my clit. I was already well on my way to orgasm.

It felt so good! My nipples were very hard and I started to pinch them as he pleasured me with his wonderful dick. I squeezed my breasts, a mixture of pleasure and pain hitting me as I realized that they were kind of sore.

Dad’s breathing rate increased, as did his thrusting. I was getting close to cumming as well.

‘Wait,’ I thought, ‘wasn’t there a reason that we shouldn’t be doing this?’

But it felt so good, so right! I started to roll my hips, trying to get his cock to scrape along my g-spot as he thrust into me. ‘Yes, there!’ Dad’s cock hit the right spot and I gasped, pinching my nipples harder. A flitting thought crossed my mind: ‘Why are my boobs sore?’

‘Because I’m ovulating!’ came the response.

‘Oh yeah…this feels so good…’

‘Don’t let him cum inside you! You’ll get pregnant!’

‘Mmm, a baaaby…’ I replied dreamily. I was so close…

‘We don’t want to make a baby with Daddy!’

‘I’m probably already pregnant from last night, so what’s one more load? It’s going to feel so gooooood….’

Dad jammed his cock into me hard, holding it as deep as possible as he grunted. As his hot cum shot deep inside me it set off my own orgasm, silencing the voice of reason. My spasming channel urged the seed from my stepfather’s cock, drawing it as deep as possible inside my welcoming reproductive system.

When I awoke in the morning Dad was gone and I realized that something had changed inside me. I felt fantastic, energized and happy. I considered this, and then my blood ran cold as I realized the probable cause.

I quickly jumped onto the Internet and searched ‘what does conception feel like’. Sure enough, women described feeling full of energy, their boobs being sore, and a sensation like their uteruses were bruised.

Yes, it did kind of feel bruised in there, but given how my cervix had been assaulted for the last couple of days that was understandable.

I looked at my belly. Schrodinger’s baby is in there or not, I thought.

My period didn’t arrive, of course, and I had morning sickness for several days. I bought a pregnancy test shortly after that and it confirmed what I had already guessed: I was carrying my stepfather’s baby.

Dad still fucked me almost every night. I didn’t deny him, since I was already pregnant. It’s not like I could get *more* pregnant. By this point I was addicted to his cock too.

I finished out the school year and graduated with B honors. My tummy hadn’t started to show yet, so I looked great in the yearbook.

During the summer, though, I started to fill out and it was difficult to hide because of the heat. Everyone was wearing shorts and tight t-shirts and there I was wearing big, baggy clothes.

Finally, I couldn’t hide it any longer and Dad asked me if I was pregnant. Crying, I said yes.

“Whose is it?” he asked. “You haven’t been hanging out with any guys for months, as near as I can tell.”

“I can’t tell you, Daddy,” I replied, still sniffling, “you’ll kill him.”

Dad didn’t like that answer but he didn’t push.

At some point I recalled my conversation with Gran at Mom’s funeral reception: “He’ll need your help Robyn. Please do what you can for him.” Did she know about his night-time, um, amorousness? I wondered if there was a story there. Maybe I’ll ask her one day.

Now, 6 months later, Dad still visits me in my bed almost every night but it seems he knows I’m pregnant and is careful not to be too rough, so as to not hurt the baby.

I think Stacy might know the truth about the baby but she hasn’t said anything. We don’t seem to be getting along as well as we used to, though, so I don’t know what’s going to happen there.

I went and curled up in Dad’s lap while he was sitting on the couch. His strong arms surrounded me.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Can we raise this baby as if it was yours and m–Mom’s?” I looked up into his eyes.

“What about the father?” He had asked about him occasionally, and I still refused to tell.

“He’s not around,” I replied, half-truthfully. It was daytime, after all.