Farm Girl (18+)

Farm Girl- Seven

I don’t know what happened in my Dad’s mind after that. He seemed to think of me differently afterward. It wasn’t something anybody else noticed, but I sure did. It was in how he looked at me whenever we were in the room together, how he acted, and the suspicion when I went out.

At first, that was all it was. He seemed ashamed of what he had done that night and maybe was a little afraid of me telling Mom. It was about a week before he did anything but look. Then he started casually brushing me when I was downstairs, his hands accidentally brushing my behind or breasts.

He started kissing me goodnight on the lips instead of on the forehead or cheek. When he kissed me, he put his arm around me and sometimes his hand would slide down lightly over my behind.

Ten days later, I was doing the laundry in the basement when Dad followed me downstairs. He wandered over with a pair of overalls in his hands.

“Oh are you doing your stuff now?” he asked. “I was gonna do these.”

“I’m finished. I’m just getting my stuff out of the washer now.” I answered without turning around.

Then I felt his hand at the small of my back. I started but didn’t turn around. He rubbed my back lightly for a couple of seconds, and then moved his hand downward, slowly sliding it down over my buttocks and squeezing me. I pretended to ignore him, hurriedly scooping my stuff out of the washer. His hand rubbed my ass cheeks, then slid along to the crack between them and rubbed up and down between my cheeks.

His hand slid down and between my legs to rub my pu*sy through my jeans. I jerked around quickly, yanking his hand away.

“Daddy stop!” I demanded.

He just moved closer to me. He moved right up against me, backing me against the washer. His chest was inches from my face, and he looked down at me with a yearning, hungry look.

Then his mouth came down on mine and his hand moved around behind my head to hold it in place for his ravishing lips. His kiss was urgent, demanding. His right hand was roughly squeezing my breast as I fought for my footing. His tongue shot past my lips. I could feel it rubbing insistently along my teeth and licking my tongue.

My nails dug into his hand on my breast, trying to force it away. He jerked his hand away, then slapped me in the face.

“You little wh*re!” he shouted, examining the back of his hand. “You think you’re too good for me now, is that it!?”

He grabbed my arm and turned me around, shoving me hard against the sink. His hand grabbed my neck and forced me to bend down, so my face was in the sink and my ass stuck out behind. His hands tore open my jeans, almost ripping them off me. My feet left the ground and the hard edge of the sink dug into my belly as he yanked them off my legs. Then I felt his crotch pressing against mine as he undid his zipper. Seconds later I felt the head of his hard c*ck poking into my ass cheeks.

“Stop it! Stop it!” I cried.

“Shut up you slut!” he cursed.

He shoved my face further into the sink, so my head was under the soapy water the washer was pouring out.

I felt him spreading my legs with his other hand. His c*ck poked at the entrance to my f*ck box. He rammed his prong inside me as I struggled to force my head up to breathe. The pain was terrible, but almost a distraction to me in my fight for air. His prick was ball deep inside me before he let my head up again. I choked and sputtered as I gulped in air. His hands ripped my shirt open, then tore my bra in half. His fingers fastened around my hanging breasts, squeezing them tightly.

“You keep your mouth shut you little tw*t, or I’ll f*cking drown you! You hear?” he hissed.

His c*ck pounded furiously into my tight c*nt hole. His hands opened and closed desperately around my meaty globes, squishing and twisting them. His hips slammed forward faster and faster, thrusting his c*ck in and out of me with powerful strokes.

My hips ground against the hard cement of the sink as he slammed me forward on each thrust. His c*ck ripped in and out of my sl*thole, rasping the soft skin like sandpaper. His mouth came down against my neck and bit deeply, bringing an uncontrollable cry of pain from my lips. He shoved my head underwater again until I almost passed out from lack of air. Then he ripped my hair up, jerking my whole upper body up out of the sink and back against his chest. His f*ck pole continued to thrust and skewer my slit, slamming me against the sink.

“Little wh*re!” he hissed. “Little sl*thole. Probably f*cking every guy in town, ain’t you? F*ck… f*ck… f*ck! Oh, you’re so tight, baby. You got a nice tight little tw*t here!” He was mumbling and rambling, and for the first time, I noticed the booze in his breath. “Unnngh… Ung… Yeah… Yeah… So Good! Oh Jesusss!!” he cried.

He slammed his hips forward, embedding his prick deep inside my guts. He panted for breath, his hands coming down and squeezing my breasts absently. Then he pulled back, stumbling a little. He ran his hands back through his hair. I slid down to my knees, hugging my chest tightly. He looked at me, started to say something, then turned and shambled away and up the stairs.

That's the way we went on for a while. After that second attack, it was just like the first. For the first couple of days, he wouldn’t be able to look at me when I was around, then he would start watching me, staring at my ass and t*ts whenever we were near each other. In another week, he was grabbing me as he walked by. Then he would have to f*ck me again.

The third time was when I was in the kitchen. One day when my Mom was out, he grabbed me as soon as I got home from school. I had gotten mixed up, thinking it was the next day my mom would be out, otherwise, I would have stayed away for a few hours until she got home.

I turned to find him standing in the doorway, his hand rubbing himself through his pants. He grabbed my hair and pulled me closer when I tried to pull away.

As it turned out, my struggling didn't matter. He bent me backward over the kitchen table and started kissing and fondling me. His hands ripped my shirt open and yanked it off. My bra went next. I was flat on my back on the table, my legs flailing helplessly as his mouth sucked on my small pink n*pples.

His tongue rasped over the skin, his mouth suckling and chewing, forcing each n*pple erect against my will. His hands squeezed my tit as he looked down into my face.

“I’m gonna f*ck you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a month!!”

“NO! Please don’t, Daddy! Don’t! Oh, God!” I struggled against him, my fingers clawing at his face.

Suddenly, the door opened, and my Mother walked in. We stared at each other open-mouthed for several seconds, then my father smiled. He shoved my arms up above my head and gestured to her.

“Get over here and hold her down!” he ordered.

She continued to stare, her mouth opening and closing.

“Move your ass you b*tch!” he shouted.

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