Erotic Stories and True Confessions


My Dad Is A Swinger
I found my dad's homemade sex tapes - By: Missy


I heard the car door slam and then the sound of my mom’s voice, already approaching a shriek.  God, poor Dad.  He’d probably had to listen to that all the way home from the airport, and there was no escaping it now, either.  I wondered why Dad put up with her at all.  I was only fifteen, but I was smart enough to see that their relationship was shit, and Mom was a major bitch.  It would serve her right if Dad packed up and moved the hell out.

As always, the thought brought a small lurch of panic.  If Dad left, it would be better for him, but worse for us.  We’d be stuck with the bitchy bundle of rage, and then who would she take it out on?  Me, probably.

My parents entered the house and Karen (I liked to refer to her by her first name, to pretend that she wasn’t really my mother) shut up for a minute, although her fat face was pinched and angry.  Dad gave me a hug.  He’d been in Dallas for three days for a conference, lucky him, although it hadn’t stopped Karen from calling him six times a day to make sure he was alone.

Karen retreated to the kitchen, probably to stuff her face.  I swear, if she wasn’t such a porker, she wouldn’t have to worry so much about Dad cheating.  All my friends thought my dad was hot.  I thought he looked like Bruce Willis in Die Hard, but with more hair.  If Mom had a fucking brain, she would stop eating fudge cakes and go to the gym.

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As a paranoid teen afraid of turning into my mother, I was borderline anorexic.  Karen was constantly trying to get me to eat, probably so she would have more company in her fatness.  Ben and Billy were already well on their way to obese, my poor dumb brothers.

Dad went into the kitchen and Karen followed.  I heard her start in on him again.  Dad rarely fought back.  He was usually silent during Karen’s tirades.  I knew I should go to my room and block out the argument, but my homework was spread out all over my desk and I didn’t want to lose my place in the textbook.

“How do you explain this, Mr. Smarty Pants?” Karen hissed.  “I found this under the seat of your truck while you were in Dallas swinging with God-knows-who!  Max Factor lipstick in Sparkleberry!  I don’t buy Max Factor, Paul!  And Sparkleberry?  What kind of slutty color is Sparkleberry?”

I heard my dad sigh and I felt something clench in my gut.  Shit.  My mom was one sick bitch, to feel around in my dad’s truck while he was gone.  I had little doubt Dad was cheating on her, but who could blame him?  Karen was a freak.


A knock sounded on the door and Karen bellowed from the living room for me to answer the door.  Fuck!  The lazy bitch was six feet from the front door!

I dropped the clothes I’d been folding and marched down the hall.  The doorbell sounded this time and I snatched open the front door angrily.

“Karen Wentworth?” the man asked.  He held a clipboard and a manila envelope.

“Mom!” I yelled.  “It’s for you.  Looks like a delivery.”  Odd, I thought.  A courier, not the mailman.

Karen dragged her lazy ass away from the reality TV show she was watching and huffed to the door.  She snatched the envelope from the man and signed the offered form.  The courier winked at her and tapped his cap with a finger.

“Have a nice day.”  He smiled wickedly.

Karen ripped open the envelope and scanned the papers.  Her jaw dropped farther and farther and I felt a sense of impending doom.  What the hell was it?  She staggered into the living room and collapsed into her chair.  Her face was paste-white.

“What is it, Mom?” I asked worriedly.

At the words, Karen took a huge gulp of air and started sobbing.  Large tears poured down her face and her whole body shook.

“Paul… oh god, I can’t believe it.  Paul filed for a divorce!  How can he do this to me?”

Karen started to howl like a banshee and I fled to my room.

When Dad came home that night, he went straight to their room and started packing.  Ben, Billy, and I pretended to watch TV and exchanged looks of horrified shock.  Karen had not stopped crying the whole afternoon.  Now she followed Dad around like a whipped puppy.

“Please, Paul!  Please don’t go,” she begged.  “I’ll do anything!  We’ll get counseling!  Please!”

Dad, as usual, did not even argue.  He just packed his stuff, gave me and the boys tearful hugs, and walked out.  Karen’s crying turned to shrieks of disbelieving rage by the time he left, and she trailed him to the car, screaming incoherently.  I went to bed with a headache.

“Paul was oversexed,” Karen said two days later as I stuck two pieces of bread into the toaster.  I rolled my eyes.  I preferred it when Karen stayed in her room and felt pathetically sorry for herself.

“I know he moved in with that bisexual slut,” she muttered while I retrieved the blackberry jam from the fridge.  I nearly dropped the jar.  Karen sneered.  “I know you’re Paul’s biggest fan, Missy, but you don’t know about his appetites.  The pervert could never get enough.  Kept begging me to try swinging.  For years.”

I pressed the lever on the toaster, trying to block her out.  Swinging?  What the hell was that?  Something to do with a trapeze?  I tried to picture Karen on a trapeze and nearly laughed aloud.

“I finally tried it a couple of times, thinking Paul would get it out of his system.  Having sex with another couple was just wrong, but Perfect Paul thought it was the best thing ever.  He loved fucking other women, especially that bisexual whore he hooked up with.  Bet that’s where he is right now.”

I thought about leaving the toast and bolting.  I really didn’t want to hear it.

“He wanted me to have a threesome with that bitch.  A threesome!” Karen snarled the words and I drummed my fingers impatiently on the countertop.  Hurry up, fucking toast.

“I sure as hell wasn’t going to eat pussy to save my marriage.”

I felt sick.  “I’ll be right back,” I said hoarsely.  I fled to my room and stayed there until I had to leave for school.  I didn’t know what to think of her story.  I decided I didn’t want to know the truth.


I was extremely uncomfortable.  For one thing, it had turned out to be a wretchedly hot, humid Texas day and I was sweating to death, even though my tank dress was cotton and had spaghetti-thin straps.  For another, I didn’t know a single person at this wedding reception other than the happy couple and my new stepbrother.  My real brothers had refused to come to Dad’s wedding, having finally sided with Karen after the divorce.

Dad’s new wife, Angela, (also known as the bisexual slut) seemed nice.  She was quite a lot younger, and much thinner, than Karen, but not a lot prettier.  I thought she was average-looking, but she had a nice, quiet voice and a great smile.  I had been prepared not to like her, probably due to my mom’s snide references at every turn, but Angela was hard to dislike.

I felt a tug on my skirt and looked down to see Adam, Angela’s five-year-old son, smiling up at me.

“Missy, can I have some punch.  It’s hot.”

I took his little hand and led him to the table where a big punchbowl sat.  My new stepbrother was cuter than a golden retriever puppy.  I already adored the little darling, who seemed to have inherited his mother’s polite demeanor.

The music started and couples began to dance.  I noticed several of them embracing Dad and Angela with an intimacy that surprised me.  One of the men actually reached up and brushed a lock of hair out of Dad’s face, and Dad grinned at him with a look that made the breath catch in my throat.  I remembered Mom’s words, “He kept begging me to try swinging.”

I shook it off and handed Adam his juice.  He politely thanked me and I tousled his curly blond hair.


I answered the phone to find Angela on the line.

“Hi, Missy, I hate to bother you, darlin’, but Paul and I need a big favor.  You know we’re going to Cancun for a week, right?  Well, I had Beverly all lined up to watch Adam, but her momma took sick and she’s going to Houston to look after her.  I know you were planning to get a summer job and all, but do you think you could postpone it?  We’ll pay you for your trouble.”

I looked guiltily at the want ads at the table.  I hadn’t even started job hunting, even though school had been out for a week.  I didn’t really need to work—Dad had been great about paying my tuition and giving me pocket money, but I preferred to work for my extra cash.

“No problem,” I said.  “I’ve been promising to take Adam to the zoo, so this will make it easier.”

Angela sighed in relief.

“Oh, thank you so much, Missy.  You are such a lifesaver.”


I put Adam to bed and read him a story.  He was half-asleep before I finished the book.  We had gone to the zoo and walked for hours.  The little guy was exhausted.  I tucked his covers around him and set the book aside before turning out the light.

Dad and Angela’s house was a lot neater than ours, even though it was quite a bit larger.  Karen wasn’t real big on cleaning, either.  I loved the open, Mediterranean feel of the house.  Angela was a good decorator, as well as being a cleaning dynamo.  I could have eaten off the kitchen floor.

I perused the stack of DVDs in the family room, but nothing struck my fancy.  The worst thing about babysitting was the boredom.  The books on the shelves were all coffee table type books with photos of exotic places and large historical tomes.  Where did they keep the fiction?  Dad was a reader.  I knew he had books somewhere.

I wandered down the hall and tried the door to the master bedroom.  Locked.  I was surprised for only a moment.  This was Texas.  Everyone had a gun.  Dad probably kept the door locked to make sure Adam didn’t wander in and play with the gun collection.  And who wanted a curious five-year-old in their bedroom, anyway?

Still, the need to read was strong, and I hadn’t brought any books with me, like an idiot.  I’d assumed I could just read one of Dad’s.

I looked at the lock and made a quick decision.  I went to the kitchen and grabbed a steak knife to trying jimmying the lock.  It was a lot fucking harder than when they did it on television, especially since I didn’t want to ruin the knife, the lock, or the doorframe.

It took nearly forty-five minutes, but I was ruthlessly stubborn… and had nothing better to do.

I nearly laughed out loud when it finally popped open.  I took the knife back to the kitchen and checked the edge to make sure I hadn’t bent it.  The door jamb had a small groove, but I didn’t think it was noticeable.

The room was nice, decorated in cream and gold with pale wood.  I felt justified in my breaking and entering when I saw the three bookcases packed with both hardback and paperback books.  I sauntered in and perused the titles.  Most of them were war books—airplane and submarine battle, grunting military plotlines… I rolled my eyes.  Surely there was something readable in here.

I moved to the long bookcase beneath the TV.  I glanced at the titles, but my gaze was caught by a rack of blank DVD cases.  I wondered if they had better movies in their room than in the family room.  I pulled one from the stack.  On the front was a white label with a date and a notation that read:  Ross and Sarah.  I frowned, wondering if it was a home movie.  Probably a video of Ross and Sarah’s wedding, or something.  I probably shouldn’t snoop.

I slid the DVD into the machine and pressed the ON button on the TV, which was a nice flatscreen model.  I looked for the remote, but it wasn’t by the television.  I went to the bed and searched the nightstands, but they were empty except for decorative candles.

“If I were a clean freak, where would I put the remote?” I asked myself.

I opened the nightstand drawer and froze.  The remote was there, nearly lost among a sea of colors and textures.  I reached in and picked up the nearest object: a long, realistic-looking dildo at least ten inches long.  Wow.  I set it on the bed and pulled out the next item.  This one was a garish green shade with a handful of buttons at the base.  I pressed a button and it began to vibrate.  Another button caused it to light up, and one made the tip start to rotate.  Others made it vibrate faster and move in different ways.  High tech.  I giggled.

The drawer yielded an amazing assortment of sex toys, from a tiny finger-sized vibrator to a strange looking dildo made of solid glass.  That one was satiny to the touch, but had interesting ripples here and there.  It was quite pretty, considering what it was.

I set them all on the bed like a store display.  It was a veritable cornucopia of porn.  I decided to snoop some more, since I’d most likely discovered the most shocking items.  I opened the closet and flipped through Angela’s designer clothes.  At the back of the walk-in, I found an assortment of lingerie.  I pulled out a few and whistled at the flimsy bits of silk.  Damn, my father certainly had an active sex life, if Angela wore these frequently.

I went down the hall and checked on Adam, who was so soundly asleep that he was snoring softly.  I returned to the bedroom and took my clothes off before pulling on one of my stepmother’s lacy bits of lingerie.  It was a simple peach-colored scrap of silk that did not quite fall low enough to conceal my pubic hair.  I modeled it in the full-length mirror, oddly turned on by the sight of my own dark curls peeking out beneath the hem.

I pressed a button on the remote, wondering if I could find a porn channel and the screen went blue for a moment before the DVD began to play.  I’d forgotten that I’d put it into the machine.  The DVD showed Dad and Angela kissing in this very room.  The camera was trained on the bed.  Angela wore a skimpy blue teddy and Dad had on only a pair of boxers.  I nearly turned it off with a muttered, “Ew!” but my finger paused on the button when another person entered the scene—I recognized the man that had brushed my father’s hair out of his face at the wedding.  He was a tall blond hunk.

The man kissed Angela in the video while my father ran a hand up his back.  The sight was both shocking and erotic.  Angela unbuttoned the man’s shirt and my father slipped it off his shoulders and tossed it aside.  Wow, the guy was gorgeous.  I watched with my tongue hanging out as they undressed the guy completely.  He lay back on the bed with his cock standing erect.

A woman walked into the scene and giggled.  She was dressed in short shorts and a bikini top.

“Sorry I’m late, but I couldn’t find the whipped cream.”  She shook the red and white can in her hand.

“Fuck, Sarah, can’t you ever have sex without food involved?” my father asked.

“I can, but I’d rather not.  Besides, you won’t complain when I lick it off your hard dick, will you?”

My jaw dropped as I watched the four of them get completely naked and begin to writhe on the bed, liberally spraying the whipped cream over various body parts.  I quickly forgot that my father was one of the players as I watched wet tongues lick breasts and cocks, and fingers probed hot openings…

I threw myself on the bed, surrounded by sex toys.  I picked up the heavy glass dildo and lay back, letting my legs fall open as I watched the blond man fuck Angela, while my father did the same to Sarah.  I slide the dildo into my vagina—no lubricant needed, god I was so hot and wet it was a wonder I wasn’t spurting.  The glass felt amazing—hard, smooth, and delightfully cold.  It had a clever knob at one end that bumped my clit each time I pressed it home.

The moans from the television mingled with my own as I plunged the phallic work of art in and out, faster and faster.  It didn’t take long for me to come (and come, and come!) and I quickly levered myself off the bed before I embarrassed myself by leaving a wet spot.  The juices flowed down my thighs as I hurried to the bathroom to clean myself up.  The feel of the warm washcloth against my clit made me rub the spot again until another orgasm shook through me.

God, I couldn’t remember ever being so turned on.

Clean and calm once more, I returned to the bedroom and put everything away where I’d found it, making sure I put the DVD away.  I left the door unlocked and made a mental note to keep an eye on Adam so he didn’t go in there, although now I knew it wasn’t firearms they were trying to keep out of his hands.  I went to the guest room and smiled happily as I lay down.  I had six more days and a whole lot of DVD footage to watch.  It is going to be an interesting week.

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