I Didn't Know He Was My Father

When I was single I dated a lot. I shiver now at some of the risks I took but I was having a lot of fun. One night I was in a dive bar about 60 miles away from my where I was living at the time. I was a semi regular there, and dressed like I was looking to be picked up, which I was. This guy comes and sits beside me and starts chatting. He was a man of about 45 or 50. I usually wasn't attracted to old men (that was ancient to me at the time). His beard was gray but it was neatly trimmed, and his hair was getting gray. That was a minus for me, but the plus was he was really fit, muscular. There wasn't an ounce of fat on him. He was dressed like a cowboy, which is not that uncommon around there. He looked familiar somehow, and he looked at me like he was thinking the same thing, but it was a passing moment, and neither of us asked the other many questions beyond first names. He was smart and funny, not creepy, and I liked him.


He told me he'd done all kinds of things, been everything from a firefighter to a skydiver to running an insurance company, but I figured that's just date talk, nobody believes it, and I didn't mind. When he got up to go to the restroom, I asked one of the bar workers I knew about him. She said he only comes in about once a month, but he's a really nice guy by all accounts, and classier than most around there, but then that wasn't too hard.


He asked me to come to his place and I followed him in my car. It was a nice ranch style house, so I thought maybe he wasn't totally lying about everything. He lit a fire and we had a couple glasses of wine. It felt great in his arms, kissing, canoodling. I was getting horny fast, which surprised me over a guy his age. It got crazy. My skirt was short, and I'd gone commando that night. When I sat astride his lap, his cock felt so hard beneath his rough jeans it almost hurt. I could feel I was leaving a wet spot, but I didn't care. Finally he lifted me up and I wrapped my legs around his waist (I'm only 5'2'' and he was at least 6 foot) as he carried me to a bedroom. It was insane, I couldn't let go. He had to pry me away from him so we could undress. I kicked my "fuck me" heels off and got out of my crop top and skirt. He must have been some kind of magician because he was undressed almost before I was and he had a lot more to take off.


As soon as my back hit the bed I guided him in and wrapped my legs back around his waist. Condoms didn't even enter our minds. His tall, broad shouldered body engulfed me. I was so wet there were squishy sounds everytime he thrusted. It didn't sound very sexy but I didn't care. I clawed at his back and couldn't stop moaning. He didn't make a sound, but he kept pounding me hard. I loved it and he knew it. It usually takes me a while to orgasm, and often I don't. But that night I went over the edge twice. I yelled as I orgasmed like I was being whipped. I couldn't help it. When he came I tightened my legs back up and wouldn't let him out of me for the longest time.


We just lay together for a while, kissing and cuddling but we didn't say much. I was really spent, but except for losing his hard on, he hadn't even worked up much of a sweat. Like I said, he was in incredible shape.


Before long I needed to pee and I asked him where the bathroom was. I had to go through a hallway to get there and on the walls were all kinds of plaques and awards. He definitely wasn't lying about being a firefighter at least. There was also a newpaper clipping with his photo from many years before in a frame and there was enough light in the hall for me to read it. He'd saved a drowning man. As I read it I started shaking. I realized the man who'd just gave me the best fucking of my short life was my biological father. There wasn't any doubt. He didn't have a beard then, and his birthday was Christmas day (I had known that much about him) and what few other details I knew about him lined up exactly with the article.


He'd gotten my mom pregnant pregnant then left town. She hated his guts and refused to even tell me his name for a long time. Later on my aunt filled in what details she knew. She'd shown me a photo of him which looked exactly like the picture in the article. I knew enough then to find him, but I figured, if he took off when he knew my mom was pregnant, why should I? If he cared he'd at least have tried to visit me. Mom worked herself almost to death to support me and send me to good schools, and she was all I needed.


I hurried into the bathroom. I was shaking so much I could feel the toilet seat tremble as I sat there. As I looked down I saw my red, puffy labia. It was so absurd, so unreal. I thought, I'm glad I'm freshly waxed, which was a crazy thing to think at that moment. I pressed on my pussy and a little of my father's sperm came out. I counted the days since my last period, and thought I might be fertile. I'd better get Plan B tomorrow. Not a good idea getting pregnant by your father. These were the ludicrous thoughts going through my mind.


I had to get out of there. It was too much to handle.


As soon as I went back to the bedroom he knew something was wrong. I told him I felt a migraine coming on, which wasn't a lie. I said it happened sometimes when I exerted myself to much. I told him that only meant he really made me feel great, but I had to go before it got worse. He seemed to understand. He said migraines ran in his family too. I thought, yes, I know. I got dressed and left.


On the drive home I was trembling all the way. I was lucky I didn't have a wreck. I was thinking, well if I did, maybe my dad would be the one to come and save me? So crazy.


I never went back to that bar again, and when I wanted to have a night away from home, I drove in the other direction. As time passed, I came to terms with what happened. I even began fantasizing about it when I masturbated. I was ashamed at first, but I couldn't deny I was completely sexually fulfilled that night. I never told anyone. I moved ahead and left it in the past. A few years later I fell in love and got married. We've got two young kiddos.


What brings this up now is I got a handwritten letter from my father this week. He tried to explain why he left my mom, and said he thought about trying to contact me many times over the years but was too ashamed. He recently began looking for me and found I'd moved to a different state. He said if I wanted to see him, call the number he sent in the letter. If I don't call, he said he'd understand and would let me alone.


I'm not calling. I don't really want to see him. There's no reason to. It would feel like a betrayal to my mom. Plus, if he did recognize me from that night...lord almighty.