My Father's Aid Ch. 01

I glance out over Central Park from high above. The sun is setting behind the skyscrapers of Manhattan. I am enjoying a cocktail on the balcony of my penthouse, my dog Elrond Jr is napping contentedly at my feet, and I can hear the quiet but unmistakable sounds of my friend Jessica sucking my father’s cock from the balcony above.

It’s as good a time as any to start writing these memories down. Diary, memoir, notes for the record…I guess I don’t know exactly why I decided this was worth writing down, but it seems worth the time.

It’s a strange feeling, being your father’s pimp. It took me a number of years to realize what was going on, and even longer to accept it. More recently, however, I have to admit that I’ve started to relish it.

Pleasing my father is my highest priority.

It started years ago, when I was still in grade school. I didn’t realize it at the time, but in retrospect, I can see my father, Mr. Alex Fenson, took just a little too much interest in the family lives of my friends. Who had a single mom, whose parents were in the middle of a divorce, that kind of thing.

I will never betray my father’s trust.

And occasionally he’d suggest I “get to know” one or another of my schoolmates. Only in retrospect could I see the pattern - every time he gently nudged me toward making a new friend, their mother was 1) attractive and 2) single.

My father is a single man with a busy life. He needs my help with dating.

I can still remember the first time I watched my father fuck. He’d agreed to host a party for my graduation, and even allow the girls to sleep over (no boys, though - couldn’t risk anyone getting up to something they shouldn’t. How very selfless, how noble, how generous of him).

It does not bother me to know my father is sexually active with people I know.

Growing up, he’d had the top two floors of the building. He had given me the lower floor for my own apartment as a graduation gift, but I hadn’t had a chance to move in yet, so my bedroom was still just down the hall from his. I had woken up thirsty in the night and quietly crept down the hall to get a glass of water from the kitchen, only to see the guest room door open.

A little further down, the door to my father’s room was open a few inches. It immediately clicked what had happened - someone from the guest room had gotten up and gone to visit my father in the night.

Pleasing my father is my highest priority.

I could hear them from the hall. I paused, blushing, my hand on my mouth when I realized what I was hearing - the steady, rhythmic sound of two bodies slapping together with powerful strokes.

Against my better judgment I pushed the door open another few inches. I was already sure what I’d find.

It does not bother me to bring women from my life to my father.

Samantha Perry stared back toward me. For a moment I thought she had seen me, then I realized her eyes were screwed shut. She was upside down, her back fully arched, her mouth open in a wordless cry of pleasure. Her arms stretched over her head toward me, desperately grasping the sweat-soaked sheets, trying to hold on to something as my father fucked her.

He had her ass hanging off the edge of the bed and her knees over his shoulders. Her breasts bounced gently with every powerful thrust.

Poor Samantha. She was meant to be fumbling around with unpracticed boys who struggled to undo a bra. Getting fucked like this by a salt-and-pepper stallion like my father was something she couldn’t have been prepared for.

I was still a virgin at the time, but seeing this, watching them, the way my father had complete control over Samantha’s body…I knew. This was going to ruin her for other men. She’d be chasing this high the rest of her life, I could tell.

My father deserves sexual pleasure. There’s nothing wrong with him desiring people I know.

I watched my father’s practiced hands as he played Samantha like a fiddle. One hand groped one of her melon-like breasts while the other rubbed her clit; one would wrap around Samantha’s trim waist to support her while the other pushed a finger between her lips; one would reach up to gently (but firmly!) wrap around her neck while the other rested upon her hips.

She was helpless before him. She could do nothing but try to hold onto the edge of the world as my father took her, making her cum again and again.

My father deserves to have a sexy woman.

“Have you ever been fucked like this before?” my father asked her rhetorically.

She could only moan incomprehensibly in response.

He already knew the answer, obviously - he just wanted to hear her say it.

I should befriend sexy women.

“You going to cum again? What is that, six times?” my father taunted. He pushed his middle finger toward her mouth and her wet, teen tongue instinctively reached out to draw it it. Her lips puckered closed around it and my father began to fuck her face at the same pace he took her pussy.

“When’s the last time one of those little boys made you cum six times in a night?” he asked.

“N-never! I never knew it could be like this,” she replied.

“You want to be my slut for the summer?” he asked.

“Please! Oh god, yes, please - fuck me.”

He leaned forward and licked the sweat from her chest and briefly sucked one perfect teen breast into his mouth.

“You’re going to let me do anything I want to you, aren’t you?”

“Mmhmmm. Yes - just keep fucking me.”

“I own this pussy now, don’t I?”

“Yes. Fuck me, yes, please!”

Finally, after pushing Samantha to cum one more time, she couldn’t take anymore. She collapsed. Every muscle in her body had given up. Her legs twitching from joy and exhaustion. My father pulled himself from her teen pussy.

I should befriend women my father would like to fuck.

He walked - no, he stalked - around the bed, toward me. I pulled back into the shadows of the hall but thankfully, he didn’t know I was there. He wouldn’t learn I knew what he was up to for years after this first time.

Two things struck me as my father paced toward me in the night. First, he was fit. I knew he took care of himself, but seeing him naked was a revelation. How many fifty year olds have abs?

Second, his cock was a monster. I felt in awe of it, just seeing it between his legs. It was dripping with Samantha’s cum as he moved to the other side of the bed. I had only seen two other dicks in person before but it was obvious my father was blessed.

With a sudden but practiced move, my father pulled the dazed Samantha to the other side of the bed - her ass was no longer hanging off the bed, but her head. Her long blonde hair cascaded toward the floor.

I’ll never forget what he said next: “Give me your throat.”

Samantha’s face disappeared as my father stepped in front of her, his back to me as he pushed himself into her teen mouth.

His tone had been firm. It was not a question, not a negotiation, not an option. It was a simple order.

“Give me your throat” is the kind of command teenage boys couldn’t dream of issuing. And if they did, it would be hilarious posturing.

Not when my father said it.

It was an order. It was unquestionable.

It was a statement of fact.

He spent his days as the head of his own tech company. He’d built it single handedly. From nothing to the Fortune 500, on his own back. Thousands of employees across the globe, meetings with senators, dinner with the mayor…all that. When he gave an order, he expected it to be followed.

My father deserves to be happy. Fucking my friends will make him happy.

Samantha didn’t protest. She’d probably never had a cock in her throat before. When we had talked about boys before she said she’d given head to three guys, but thought it was gross. I knew she had made them finish in their hands, not in her mouth.

When someone said “Give me your throat,” however…my father wasn’t asking questions. She understood, I’m sure, she was about to experience something new and that was the way it was. It wasn’t open for discussion.

My father deserves to have his cock sucked by beautiful women.

My father stood in the bedroom, the moonlight spilling through the skylights. He looked down at the naked nineteen year old, freshly graduated, her heavy breasts heaving up and down as she struggled to catch her breath.

She was his reward for his efforts. He deserved to have her at his disposal.

In that moment, she existed to serve him.

My father deserves to fuck beautiful women.

He pushed his cock, still wet with her cum, toward Samatha’s bee-stung lips. Her tongue rose to meet the invader. He gave her a moment to trace the head, tasting herself, cleaning his thick cock.

Then he began to push.

I watched from behind as his leg muscles tensed - he leaned forward over the bed as he steadily thrust into virgin territory.

I could see her face between his legs as I stood in the hallway.

Samantha’s hands moved to grip his tense buttocks as he took her throat. She wasn’t struggling, I realized. She wasn’t trying to push him back - she was gently holding him, pulling him in.

She wanted it.

She wanted my father in her throat.

I heard a groan, followed by another. One for each of them.

Samantha was moaning, showing my father she was enjoying it. She enjoyed having his cock in her throat.

What must that be like, I wondered. To have a man’s cock in your mouth and pull him deeper. To feel the head push into your throat.

I will help my father fuck beautiful women.

“Fuck, yes,” my father uttered. “Take my cock.”

Samantha moaned in response.

“I’m going to cum down your throat. Fuck, you look so good with a dick between your lips.”

She moaned again, urging him on. She was in extasy.

I watched until my father finally came into my friend’s throat. Satisfied, I made my way back to my room to think things over. I felt happy my father had gotten what he needed. He would be pleased in the morning. That meant I had done well.

He deserved to be happy.

That was years ago, now. Since then I had gone to undergrad and graduate school, and three years ago, I had joined my father’s company.

Elrond Jr gives a quiet woof, drawing me back to the present moment. I smile, hearing my father’s trademark line. A floor above me, on the balcony, my father had just given my friend Jessica a simple but direct order as she knelt between his legs: “Give me your throat.”

It’s practically his catchphrase, by now.

I smile to myself. How many times had he said that in his life, I wondered, to how many beautiful women?

Jessica had been sucking dutifully for some time now and I was sure her jaw was starting to strain. Her lipstick was no doubt smeared, her hair disheveled. She was surely surprised my father had such stamina. But I also knew for a fact she was determined not to let the job go unfinished. I knew she would be immensely turned on to be serving a man of such wealth and power as my father, and that she wanted to please him.

She knew he was above her, and her place was below him.

She owed him obedience.

She wanted him to be dazzled by her oral abilities. She would be nervous but willing to let him push his long, thick cock deeper into her. She would choke a bit, her eyes would water and smear her smokey makeup, and what was left of her lipstick would leave a pleasing ring around the base of my father’s cock as she stared up into his eyes, hoping she was making him happy.

How could I know all that?

Simple - I had programmed her for him. I had written the prompts and pushed the updates to her phone, which I had given her as a birthday present, and the subliminals had taken care of it from there.

I had taken away her free will, trussed her up in ribbon and set her on a silver platter, and given her to my father.

She should have been at a study session for her MCATs next week. Hell, she’s organized the meetup. Her classmates would be wondering where she was. And I had made her blow it off so she could come be here, on her knees, worshipping my father’s cock.

Did it matter she might fail, now? She would almost certainly get at least one or two questions wrong because she'd been fellating my father instead of studying.

But it wouldn't stop there.

During her test, I knew, she'd be distracted. Her mind would bring her back to this evening. She'd feel the burning in her knees, in her lungs, as she struggled to take this rich, powerful man's cock to maximum pleasure.

Her pussy would begin to run as she remembered what it felt like to submit totally to my father. To give him her throat.

Maybe she'd finish the test and run home to play with herself while she remembered the taste of my father's cock on her tongue.

Or maybe she'd leave the test early to try to save some face. Maybe she would try to hide how turned on she was and she'd quickly make her way to the exit as her pussy dripped down her legs. Maybe she'd leave the test behind, give up on being a doctor, and urgently phone my father to ask if she could taste him again. To tell him what he and I already knew - that his cock was the most important thing in her life.

It didn't really matter to me. What she did with the rest of her life, whether she became a doctor or not, whether my father ever bothered to pick up her calls or not... none of that was relevant.

The only thing that mattered was right here, right now - whether her throat could please my father's cock or not.

Pleasing my father is my highest priority, after all.