My Daughter the Hacker

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Creampie

I could have used a fancier technique to break into the big iMac in my daddy’s office, but in the end it seemed simplest to plug a little USB keystroke recorder between his keyboard and the back of the machine. I put it in place one afternoon while he was at work, and collected it the next day to extract his login password. I’m not totally sure what motivated me to pry into his online life, but I suppose I have always been curious about the sides of him that he doesn’t show the world. My daddy is a kind and friendly guy, but you can tell there is a lot that he thinks and feels which he doesn’t share.

Once I was sitting behind his keyboard, with the house to myself and hours before he would come home, I knew the first thing I would do is have a look at his porn habits. I wasn’t sure if he was the sort of guy who would just view things online, or whether he would be saving videos and pictures as well. I started with a spotlight search for ‘.jpg’ and very quickly learned that he was the sort to save things.

Scanning through the search results, I quickly found his porn folder (a couple of gigabytes) and began parsing through. There was lots of pretty mainstream stuff: busty girls putting on a show of lesbianism with more or less obviously feigned enthusiasm, lots of shots of the messy aftermath of blowjobs, and plenty of big cocks stretching open little assholes.

When I noticed a subfolder of mostly .png files, I began to uncover stuff that was a bit more unusual. There were lots of drawings depicting much older men with much younger women. In some of them, an element of force was clearly involved. That my father was into such things was immensely surprising to me. He’s so gentle and polite – I never would have expected to find him with drawings of young women gagged with their panties, wrists handcuffed or tied, eyes wide while older men with thick cocks pounded their little cunts.

As I clicked my way through the sub-folder, I became aware of how excited the images were making me. I could feel my breasts growing more sensitive, and my panties moistening under my jeans. I had never looked at these kinds of pictures before, and I confess that there was something naughty and thrilling about them. With sexual partners of my own, I had always appreciated when they were a bit forceful with me: holding my wrists together during sex, or pushing my head down when I was blowing them. I also had more appreciation that I suspect most women do for the theatrical conclusions that are so prominent in porn. It’s exciting to have a man finish with a flourish on my breasts, face, ass, or shaved lips.

Within a few minutes, I was squeezing my thighs together, amplifying the feelings of pleasure between my legs. I found myself biting my lower lip gently, and using my non-mousing arm to give one of my small breasts a squeeze.

There was plenty left in the folder, but I was also curious about my daddy’s web-viewing habits. I doubted that he was the conscientious sort who would be meticulous about privacy modes, clearing his browsing history, and cookies. After all, only he was allowed to use this computer, and he had no reason to expect that anyone else would be looking into it. Opening Firefox, which was his default browser, I hit the fateful ‘Show All History’ button. A quick survey, and visits to a few sites, taught me some useful new things about daddy’s kinks. For one, he seemed to prefer text to images. I had been surprised earlier not to find any video in his little porn trove, but his browser history suggested that he got off more on ideas than graphics.

A few of the page titles in the browsing history immediately caught my attention. “Your Little Sweet Sweet”, “Zoey Gets Her Daddy”, “An Incest Birthday”, “Doing Our Daughters!” There was clearly a theme. I didn’t know the terms at the time, but my daddy was seriously into incest fantasies and ageplay.

Turning back to the folder of saved images (which are more my taste, really, as I am an unusually visual girl), I started viewing them from a new perspective. The idea that these weren’t just younger girls screwing older guys, but actual family members fucking added to my earlier excitement. Feeling distinctly naughty, I checked that the office door was locked and unbuttoned my jeans. Soon, I had them unzipped and down around my ankles.

I had plenty of time, so I started off by slowly stroking my clit and lips through my simple panties. I was more excited than I had fully understood earlier: every touch brought on intense sensations. It reminded me of times when I had gone on a date and felt sure there would be sex, and then ended up being disappointed in one way or another. I knew I could come in just a couple of minutes if I wanted to, but I decided to play things out a bit longer. Eventually, I was sitting bare-assed on daddy’s leather chair, legs spread and glistening lips open. I was alternating between fingering my pussy and stroking my clit, using one hand to load one image after another from my daddy’s animated folder. I let beylikdüzü escort myself come once, surprisingly hard, and carried on exploring images until I had to touch myself and finish again.

In the weeks that followed, I found myself frequently imagining my daddy at his computer, looking at his stories and his animated images. The image of him with his hard cock standing exposed, one hand wrapped around it, made me inexplicably wet. More than once, I found myself wondering if he ever imagined me when reading his incest stories. The idea was not absurd. I have never had any difficulty attracting the attention of men. Just eighteen now, I had boyfriends five years ago, and plenty of non-boyfriends who took an interest regardless. I am petite, with b-cup breasts and a firm jogger’s ass. I have brown hair and eyes, like my daddy, and I have always had what I suspect is an unusually vigorous sexual appetite. I can’t remember when I started masturbating, but I definitely remember how surprised (and grateful!) my first boyfriend was when he learned how happy I was to suck him off and let him play with my body.

While I am by no means a ‘hacker’ in the panicked CNN sense of the word, I have been using computers since I was very young and always had an interest in security and finding my way into systems. There were a few web forums where I lurked, very occasionally posting a question or an answer to someone else’s basic query. These days, a lot of people seemed to be into RATs – remote administration tools like the Back Orifice software I had played with back in elementary school. Now that most computers had built-in cameras, there was a lot of interest in taking control of systems belonging to attractive women.

The subculture was deeply creepy – with young men trading or selling access to the laptops of female undergrads with a habit of browsing the web topless or fucking their boyfriends on beds across from their computers. At the same time, I was soon wondering how feasible it would be to get a better look at my daddy at play.

In the end, it was extremely simple. I had access to his computer, so I didn’t need any complex trojan or worm: just some remote administration software that would let me access his computer from my laptop, with a bit of special code to disable the tell-tale green LED beside his camera. I put the software together, installed it on his iMac one afternoon, and tested it with my laptop. The angle of the camera wouldn’t let me see daddy’s cock, but at least I would be able to get a shot of the look on his face when he was perusing websites and images of choice.

I made my first use of the system that night. In a window beside my homework, I had a view of daddy’s desktop and a picture-in-picture view of the output from his webcam. That night’s internet usage was disappointing – just checking the news, logging into his office’s virtual private network, editing a new batch of photos… Nothing of any particular interest.

The next day, I carried out an unsophisticated plan intended to encourage livelier internet access that evening, as well as suss out whether my suspicions about my own role in any incest fantasies had any grounding. In a house with three bathrooms, I usually showered in the one downstairs, closest to my bedroom. My daddy always uses the one upstairs, between his bedroom and the kitchen. Rising earlier than usual, I took a quick shower there and stood with wet hair and water droplets all over my bare body, looking into the mirror and waiting for the sound of the unlocked door opening.

I was lucky that day, and the sound of me showering hadn’t alerted daddy to my presence in ‘his’ bathroom. The door opened in one smooth motion, and suddenly we were eye to eye. Eye to eye only briefly, I was pleased to notice, as daddy’s glance quickly travelled downward, lingering at my breasts, and lingering longer at the mound and lips of my shaved pussy. Feigning surprise, I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around myself, apologizing for not locking the door. Somehow, daddy didn’t seem to angry about it, and I thought I heard his breath catch in his throat as I ‘accidentally’ brushed my towel-covered ass against his crotch as I passed him, going out the door.

That night, I was rewarded and surprised again. After coming home from work, daddy went immediately to his study and locked the door. I dashed to my bedroom and opened up a full-screen view of what he was doing. I was surprised to see that, instead of going to his saved images or a website, he logged into a new user account. I didn’t even know it existed, but I saw immediately that this was his treasure trove. He quickly opened up a hentai video. I hadn’t set up my RAT to transmit sound, but the subtitles made it clear that the theme was daddy-daughter incest. The video feed from daddy’s webcam made it equally clear that he was stroking himself off.

I watched him sitting back, touching himself, and stripped myself down to follow along. As I could beyoğlu escort see him getting more excited, I felt myself growing much more excited as well. It was so wrong to be watching him doing something so pervy, and my pussy was dripping with the excitement of it. He finished quickly, with me quick in tow, logged out of his special user account, got up, and left the office.

In the weeks that followed, I stepped up my surveillance. Using my USB keystroke recorder again, I got the password to his secret user account. There was a lot of kinky stuff in there: pregnant women getting fucked and having come shot across their round bellies; lots of ageplay and incest videos, pictures, and stories; and a whole trove of BDSM material, with gagged or shackled girls getting beaten and forced into sex, then explaining in little post-feature interviews how much they enjoyed it all.

Beyond my window into daddy’s computer, I hid a little Flip video camera in his bookcase. With it, I could record a few hours of video each night, and finally got the whole experience of watching daddy stroke his cock, shooting come onto his belly with his shirt held up, and quickly cleaning himself up again.

I became a bit addicted to watching him, as well as to making my own use of his materials – climaxing hard with my vibrator inside me while watching one of his rough anal sex videos, or deliberately smearing the wetness from my cunt onto the leather of his office chair.

———

I have always been a pretty sexual guy. I can’t have been older than ten or so when my parents gave me an awkward talk about how I had to be more discreet about touching myself when I was going to bed… or when I woke up… or when I had just come out of the shower.

The internet was probably a revelation for all of us, but it was especially so for me. Accessing those first porn sites via dial-up, and eventually realizing that there were repositories of amazingly kinky stories available for free online, not to mention plenty of real people happy to chat about the dirtiest of subjects. Later came DSL and streaming video, BitTorrent, and specialty websites to cater to every taste.

Since getting married, I have always been satisfied with the lively sexual life my wife and I share. Still, there are definitely scenarios and fantasies that I can never share with her. She might let me come on her a little on my birthday, or even carefully fuck her ass for a while after eating her out, but I certainly couldn’t tell her how excited I was by the idea of playing with a younger family member, or of engaging in consensual non-consent with an eager partner.

I will confess that I have not been above getting an inappropriate eyeful or two of my own daughter. Even when she was very young, I got a certain secret enjoyment from seeing her in the bath or in a bathing suit. Since she has become a foxy young woman, there have been plenty of times when the sight of her in a skirt and high socks or in a tight pair of jeans have left me hard, and heading into my office for some private relief. She had her string of boyfriends, and seemed to have a perfectly healthy sexual appetite. In fact, my wife had commented about finding a sex toy or two in her underwear drawer.

All that being said, I can only say that I was utterly astonished by what happened one week when my wife was away visiting family, leaving just me and my little girl in the house. Normally, the need to get to work makes me rise well before she does, eating breakfast alone over a newspaper. On the Monday morning, however, I found her frying eggs and bacon in the kitchen, wearing a terrycloth bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

I sat down first, and she chose the chair immediately beside me. She seemed to have set up the angles so that I could clearly see the curve of her breast – almost all the way to the nipple – through the gap in the front of her robe.

“Daddy,” she told me, “I know all about what you do on your computer.”

My heart started pounding, and I found myself nervously shifting from looking into her lovely brown eyes to glancing away nervously.

“It’s no problem, daddy,” she said. “In fact, it’s kind of exciting.”

As she said this, I felt her fingers lightly brush the thigh of my dress trousers.

I don’t know how I was able to finish that breakfast and get away to work. She didn’t make any more jarring statements after that, and was content to engage in small talk while we ate, letting me depart as normally as could be managed under the circumstances. At work, I spent most of the day wondering what she had meant, what she knew, and how she had found out. Clearly, she knew a bit about my porn habits. Had she been listening at the door? Had she found my computer at some time when I hadn’t logged out of my user account and had a poke around? What did she mean about it not being a problem?

Most parents will tell you about the awkwardness of talking with your child about bomonti escort sex. As my daughter and I sat down for an unusually elaborate dinner she had prepared, I had all the same anxiety. At the same time, most parents won’t tell you about the raging excitement that I felt that night. She was wearing a little black skirt and top. She wore no stockings, and my eyes kept tracing up her bare legs.

“So,” I stammered, “what was all that you were saying earlier.” “At breakfast…” I added, sounding like a fool.

“Well daddy,” she said, “let’s just say that I know all about what you get up to in that locked office at night.”

Now it was her turn to blush and seem embarrassed.

“And, well, you know,” she stammered, “it doesn’t all need to be alone. In fact, if you want me to keep your secret from mom, you are going to need to bring me into it.”

She walked around behind my chair and put her hands on my shoulders. Stroking them firmly in circles, she dropped down behind me to whisper in my ear.

“Do you think about me when you read your daddy-daughter stories?” she asked. “Do you imagine me when you watch your filthy videos?”

I didn’t need to say anything to answer her. The unmistakable bulge in my trousers did that for me.

My little girl made a purring sound when she saw that, and I felt her running her fingertips down my arms.

“I want my daddy’s big cock in my mouth, for the first thing,” she said. “Then, we are going to do every one of the things that I know you jerk off to.”

She emphasized this last point, as her hand reached the bulge between my legs: “Every one.”

That week was filled with the kind of sexual adventure and satisfaction that I never expected in life. Right at the dinner table, she got me to stand for a moment, undid my belt, took down my trousers and boxers, and in a moment was tracing her tongue across my large uncircumcised dick. I could see her start touching herself under her skirt as she first took the head between her lips, wrapped carefully over her teeth so she could take me deeply without nicking me. She alternated between taking me shallowly into her mouth so she could use her tongue on my glans and taking me deep – deeper than I would have guessed she could handle – until only an inch or so of my shaft was visible in front of her lovely face. She cupped my balls in one hand, then took a break from sucking me off to lick all over my cock and balls, covering them with saliva. Gently flicking my balls, she jacked off my lubricated cock, forcing me to work had to contain the rising orgasm welling up inside me.

“I’m not going to let you come too quickly,” she said. “I am going to make you work for the first one, and I want it to be big and all over me.” “I know that when you tease yourself for a long time, bringing yourself close, taking a break, and then bringing yourself close over and over, you produce a lot more… volume… in the end.”

I had no idea how she had such detailed information, but I certainly wasn’t going to decline this offer. Leaving dinner unfinished on the table, I was led by the hand to my daughter’s bedroom. Initially tripping over my trousers, I removed them and my shoes. While doing so, my daughter provocatively bent deeply over right in front of me, showing me unmistakably that she was bare and hairless underneath her skirt, and that her cunt was positively dripping.

We had a good time of things that night. I tasted my little girl’s pussy for the first time and found her delicious. Boldly, I flicked her asshole with my tongue a little while fingering her – soon learning that she responded very positively to such initiative on my part. We used her vibrator, both in her pussy and underneath my balls, while she gave me a blowjob that left me light-headed, with skin tingling all over my body.

At her insistence, she unrolled a condom onto my completely hard cock while I lay naked on my back on her bed. Moments before, she was 69ing me, with her perfect pussy in my mouth and her pink asshole right where I could see it best. Now, she was holding herself just an inch above my aching cock. Slowly, she lowered herself down onto me, taking me completely inside in one thrust.

“Soon, I want to feel my daddy spurting and finishing inside my little pussy,” she told me, nearly making me lose control, “but I can feel how full you are now, and I want to taste and feel your come all over me.” “Can you hold off so that we can do that?”

I nodded, and set myself to making the maximum effort to keep from finishing inside her. It was exceptionally difficult. We had been playing for hours, and she had been holding me at the very cusp of climax. (Obviously, she had a lot of practice with those boyfriends of hers.) To make things worse, she was touching herself while she rode me, and I could feel the muscles in her pussy clenching and unclenching as she got close.

She had already come several times before: when I was sucking her clit and pressing her vibrator into her, while we lay side by side stroking each other and talking dirty, and when she had bent over ass-up at the edge of the bed and stroked herself while I eagerly ate her ass. Still, I could feel that she had at least one more orgasm left in her, and that it would happen all around me if I could just hold out.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak. Gerekli alanlar * ile işaretlenmişlerdir