Female substitute motherhood

My mother died of cancer in the spring of my third year of junior high school. Afterwards, relatives and friends actively persuaded my father, who was just over forty, to remarry.
"If it's for Mariko's sake, that's fine. Everything should be based on Mariko's opinion. As for me, as long as the person who marries into the family can cherish Mariko, I have no objections."
I clearly remember my father always answering like this.
My aunt specially arranged to meet with me for a detailed discussion.
"Mariko! Tell me the truth! Your words represent your father's feelings! What do you say!"
She was right, I was really stumped by her question.
For more than half a year after my mother's death, my father, who was an office worker, had to get up at seven o'clock every morning and leave at eight o'clock sharp in order to get to the company before nine o'clock. In the morning, in addition to making breakfast himself, he also had to wake me up. My father's meticulous care lessened my longing for my mother.
But whenever I saw him clumsily doing chores in the kitchen, I deeply realized,
"We really do need a mother to take care of us."
Making dinner was my job, and when I hesitated about what to cook, I often called my father's office to ask,
"What do you want to eat?"
Of course, I also frequently called his workplace for other small things. I shouldn't have disturbed him at work like that, but I couldn't not ask, so I started asking using symbols.
"How about we have fish (A) tonight?" This means, "We're having fish tonight."
Or, "I think fish (B) might be better than fish (A)," which means, "Meat is better than fish."
Conversations like this eventually became popular at my dad's company, and some people even envied our close father-daughter relationship!
Personally, I really didn't want anyone interfering in our intimate life, so when my aunt brought up that matter again, I always replied,
"Anyway, our life is fine as it is now. Let's talk about that after I graduate high school!" My aunt always spoke from my dad's perspective, and she was always waiting for me to say "okay!" "Mariko! Your father is only forty-two years old. Besides, there are many things you wouldn't understand. A forty-two-year-old man needs a woman." "That's why I cook dinner, and after school, I clean the house and do the laundry! Aren't these things women should do?" After answering her like this, her aunt smiled and said, "Mariko, a woman's job isn't just about laundry and cooking! A woman's health is also very important..." "You mean her health?" "Yes! I'm talking about the body. It's not good if your father has women outside or goes to brothels to do 'that kind of thing.' But asking him not to do it is a bit much for a normal 42-year-old southerner." My aunt was almost at her wit's end, and all I could do was listen, blushing. This was the first time I'd learned about a woman's special functions, but I didn't think my father wanted to do 'that kind of thing' with any woman other than my mother. "But bringing women into the house is something I just can't stand!" "That's because you're still a naive young girl. You don't understand your father's needs at all. Why don't you try to see things from his perspective? Don't you think he's pitiful?" "Stop talking. I still think things are fine as they are." After strongly objecting to my aunt, I ran out of the house crying. I don't know why I was so sad. Tears just kept flowing uncontrollably. On my way home from a walk in the nearby park, I happened to see my father and aunt talking in the living room. Knowing it was wrong, I still went around to the window and secretly listened. "I told you! It's really unreasonable for you to talk to Mariko about this. If she could understand a man's perspective, then she'd be an adult. Besides, although it's a bit inconvenient for a family without a woman, how could she possibly understand those inconveniences!" "This... I didn't expect..." "Yes! She thinks that washing clothes and cooking are a woman's job, sigh! Actually, I really want to remarry, but I still prioritize Mariko's opinion. So I think it's probably not going to happen." "What a pity! She was only married for six months when her husband passed away in a car accident. So she went back to her parents' home and helps out at the shop her family runs. Such a beautiful woman is easy to get along with." "Yes ! Just looking at her photos, you can tell she's a good person, but never mind! Please don't say anymore, I'm a little worried." "Hey! Talk to Mariko again! If Grandma really needs it, just be direct! She's still her daughter, she should understand. As for the reply, keep it for now! Think about it and we'll talk later." " Hmm... well... that's fine then!" Then, we talked about many unimportant things. Judging from the content of this conversation, my aunt had brought photos and talked to my father while I was away. I didn't go home immediately, but quickly moved away from under the window and wandered around the park. I don't know how long it took before I slowly walked home. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The matter of remarriage was never mentioned again. My father didn't talk about it, and even my aunt, who often visited, never mentioned it again. My aunt lived two stops away on the same tram line, about a 20-minute bike ride from my house. She often cooked delicious meals and shared them with us. Since my father felt it was inconvenient without a woman in the house, I started doing what my mother used to do... pouring him beer, or tidying up his clothes after he showered, etc. Of course, I didn't feel like I was serving my father at all; it was just what I should do. When my aunt came to visit again, my father kept praising me. "I have a new wife now, and she takes such good care of everything for me! Look! She even ironed my yukata so neatly." "Oh! That's impressive!" "And that's not all! She also makes sure to prepare beer for me every day, and changes my shirt every three days or so. A wife like that is hard to find even if you have money!" Seeing my father so happy made me happy too, and it made me determined to make his life even better and happier. My aunt leaned close to my father's ear and said in a voice I could barely hear, "You say that, but you still can't sleep with her, can you?" When I heard their laughter, my head felt like it had been electrocuted, and my mind went blank. They thought no one heard, but I overheard them.

At night, lying in bed, the words "staying overnight," "staying overnight" pierced my heart like arrows, keeping me awake no matter what. Of course, I knew what "staying overnight" meant, and I also knew that for men, it was a very pleasurable thing. But for women, I didn't know if it was really that pleasurable.
In television or movies, when a man forces himself on a woman, most women look very uneasy. I think that feeling must be extremely painful, and even at the moment of union, the woman's expression is one of pain. The wrinkles between her brows tell you how much pain she's in, but she has to endure it to please the man.
But I think if I could do what that woman did, and make my father happy, and he would never mention remarriage again, I would be willing to endure it too.
On May 3rd, in the middle of the night, a violent storm relentlessly pounded against my second-floor bedroom window, emitting mournful howls.
There were two rooms on the second floor, one about three pings (approximately 1.3 square meters), and my bedroom, about two pings (approximately 1.3 square meters). On the first floor, there was a kitchen and a living room that doubled as a dining room. The living room had a sofa, and behind it was a three-ping-sized bedroom and a Japanese-style room. The bedroom contained my parents' double bed; it was a rather quiet room, and my father was currently resting alone on that large double bed.
Before I could make my plan of "staying overnight" a reality, I had to do some serious consideration. If I were to suddenly suggest "staying overnight," Dad would definitely be furious and say, "What nonsense are you spouting?"
But having already chosen my moment, the approaching storm only strengthened my resolve to do it.
Wearing floral bikini-style underwear, a bra was obviously unnecessary. I was famous in class for my large breasts; the boys called me "Big Boobs" behind my back because they all wanted to suckle my ample bosom.
"Dad! Are you asleep? Dad!"
I called out sweetly, knocking on Dad's door.
It seemed Dad, who had come home drunk and then had two bottles of beer, was already fast asleep.
(Hmph! Doesn't he want a woman? How can he sleep?)
I couldn't help but feel resentful.
It was on the first floor and there were no windows, so I couldn't feel the noise of the storm, but I was determined to wake Dad.
"Hey! Dad, are you asleep? Or are you awake?"
"What's wrong, Mariko? What happened?"
"Yes! It's Mariko! Who else could it be?"
"What's wrong?"
"The second floor is too scary, I can't sleep."
"Oh! It's the storm! I didn't know anything about it, is the second floor alright?"
"That's why! It's not good at all, it's so scary, so scary that I can't sleep!"
"Is that so? Wait a minute!"
The door was locked from the inside and couldn't be opened from the outside.
After the door opened, Dad looked at me sleepily.
"Sleep with me!"
Before Dad could say another word, I quickly jumped past him and onto the double bed.
At that moment, I didn't know what expression was on my father's face, because as soon as I got into bed, I burrowed under the covers, covering my head completely.
"So that's how it is. I really didn't know the wind was so strong! This bedroom is completely silent. With a storm like this, how could anyone sleep!"
my father muttered to himself.
Despite my quick descent under the covers, my father didn't say anything. But the word "storm" seemed to imply permission for me to do so.
Perhaps he was a little drunk! After finishing his water, my father smoked a cigarette alone in the darkness. It was as if he had thought of something; perhaps this was what it meant to be telepathically connected! Maybe my father already sensed what I wanted to do!
But he was probably thinking, "I didn't know about the secret conversation I had with my aunt last time! Could this high school freshman really be so bold?
This daughter is far more mature than he thought!" Dad didn't seem to realize this. Because parents always treat their children like elementary school students.
After a long time, his judgment seemed to have fallen asleep in his heart. The smell of alcohol and cigarettes didn't seem so unpleasant anymore.
Dad finally went to bed. I wanted to force myself to press my "mother-level" breasts against Dad's body, but I felt a little uncomfortable. Finally, I did it, and watching Dad's hands fumble and bewildered, that feeling was incredibly pleasurable.

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Am I a delinquent girl?
Am I the gentle and obedient daughter my father envisioned?
I did this simply to stop him from considering remarriage, and also to repay his kindness.
My next action was a decision I made after thoroughly observing his reaction.
On that stormy night, my father's behavior showed he no longer saw me as his daughter. Subconsciously, he saw me as just a woman. With this realization, I planned my next step.
So, about four days later, one evening, I made a snap decision, like jumping off a stage, and went to my father's bedroom.
"Dad! Are you asleep?"
I knocked on the door and called out loudly.
My father wasn't asleep yet; he was probably reading. He opened the door immediately when I knocked.
I stood motionless in front of him, my arms crossed over my stomach, looking at him.
"What's wrong? Mariko, what's wrong?"
Dad put his arm around my shoulder, looking closely at my face.
"My stomach hurts... oh..."
"Oh! When did it start?"
"About an hour ago. I took some medicine, but it didn't work."
"Where does it hurt?"
"Hmm... there... oh... here! It hurts a little, oh Dad! Rub it for me! Rubbing it until it's warm might help..."
Determined to do it, I lay down on the bed without waiting for Dad's answer and started moaning "oh... oh..."
Parents everywhere would never watch their daughter suffer without asking, so I boldly took action.
"Do you really want me to rub it?...?"
Dad really didn't want to rub it for me? Humph! What's with the politeness? Suddenly I felt a little dissatisfied.
So Dad lay down next to me and put his hand near my stomach.
"Ouch... quick... rub it!"
I cried out playfully.
"What did you eat?"
"Nothing! I ate the same as Dad! Ah... this feels so good..."
"Could it be because you're too cold?"
"Hmm...I don't know either..."
Tonight I wore a loose yukata, tied with a thin sash in a knot at the front. I always tie the knot high, so Dad's hand was just below the knot.
"Put more force in! Dad, rubbing weakly like this won't work. You should use more force like this..."
I pressed my hand down on Dad's hand, pressing hard, thus pushing Dad's hand inside the yukata, which was part of my plan.
The moment Dad's hand touched my skin, he suddenly paused, but I pretended to be nonchalant and continued to push his hand away, letting him keep stroking my skin.
Because of his constant stroking, my clothes gradually loosened, and my entire lower abdomen was now fully exposed.
"It hurts! Dad, can you rub harder?"
By this time, I had removed my hands, but Dad continued to rub the skin around my stomach on his own.
"Hmm...it doesn't seem to be there, it seems to be my whole abdomen! Let's check more thoroughly, because I can't be sure where it hurts."
"Call a doctor or send an ambulance! If it's a strange pain, the consequences could be dire. It would be great if your mom were here right now."
Dad looked helpless.
"Ugh! Why send an ambulance? It's not as serious as you think. Dad's hands are warm, just stroking them like this is fine, move a little closer."
"Like this?"
Dad's eyes must have seen the white underwear under the yukata. I deliberately lifted my leg, making the yukata looser and easily revealing the alluring white underwear.
"Aren't you cold without anything covering you?"
As soon as Dad finished speaking, I crawled into the quilt. Dad also felt my cold skin and crawled into the quilt as well, lying down beside me.
I was going all out, throwing everything into it without a care.
It didn't hurt at all, yet I lied and cried out, "It hurts...it hurts so much..." It was the first time in my life that a man's hand (my father, after all, was a man to me) had touched me like that, so I knew I was sweating with nervousness.
My father seemed to notice and asked me worriedly,
"Mariko's sweating from the pain."
"No...it's not like that, I feel much better now."
To make it easier for my father's hand, I rested my face against his chest, only my lower body, covered by my underwear, was exposed.
My father used his left hand as a pillow, stroking my stomach with only his right hand. Me! What a daring daughter I am! But for my father, for me, I'm determined to take my mother's place, so I don't want to stop what I'm doing now.
"Dad, it doesn't seem to be the stomach area. Try touching a little lower down!"
When Dad's hand slid down to my navel, I inexplicably let out a "Ah!" sound.
"Hmm... a little lower! Maybe the lower abdomen? Perhaps the intestines, ah... yes, that's it... touch it harder!"
Dad followed my lead without stopping.
However, by "that area," I meant the hairy "black forest" below my navel, the entire lower abdomen!
If Dad saw that area, he might stop, but thankfully, it was covered by the blanket and he couldn't see.
Dad must have smelled the silk essence in my hair! A book said that men are attracted to the scent of this kind of conditioner, and some even say, "That's the scent of a woman."
I've spent a lot of time and energy on this project, and now I'm no longer Mariko, but a substitute for my deceased mother.
My aunt, who often comes to our house to persuade my father to remarry, often says,
"It's true! Mariko is a spitting image of her mother! Not only is her face similar, but even her voice and the way she walks are exactly the same!"
My aunt says I'm so much like my mother; my father must also wish for someone who resembles my mother to accompany him!
"Hmm...Dad...it seems to hurt a little lower down! Hmm...press harder here!"
To drive Dad crazy sooner, and so I could take Mom's place sooner, I used my own hand to guide Dad's hand to the "mysterious black forest" area.
Now Dad's hand was definitely covering this paradise.
I could feel the wind blowing on my pubic hair; it was a different feeling, both tense and exciting.
"It's here. Press hard from the bottom up. Ah! No... um... just like that... press again... oh... it's the intestines."
At this moment, Dad wasn't very brave in exploring with his hands. From the warm breath he exhaled, I could feel that he was slowly starting to mistake me for Mom.
"Yes! Now, I'm not your daughter Mariko, but your intimate other half!"
Dad's hand gradually invaded his pubic hair, slowly moving downwards step by step. At this moment, I withdrew my hand and naturally placed it on Dad's waist, embracing him.

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Wow! It feels so good! I finally know that this feeling isn't like the pain women see on TV; it's really pleasurable.
I felt no remorse whatsoever.
At that moment, Dad wasn't holding Mariko, but rather my imagined mother. Thinking this way, why should I feel guilty? I don't think I need to at all.
"Ah...ah..."
I couldn't help but let out a sensual moan of pleasure.
Dad's fingers reached the thickest part of my pubic hair, as if I had fallen from a mountain into a deep valley, where clear water immediately gushed forth, and his fingers swam freely there.
I could no longer remain calm; an electric-like pleasure filled my lower body, and my waist trembled uncontrollably.
At some point, Dad's fingers changed from one to two, and they continued to twitch and move incessantly at the bottom of my pubic area.
At that moment, Dad seemed to have made up his mind. He withdrew his left hand from under my head and stroked my head and ears.
When his fingers entered the acupoints in my ears, the pleasurable sensation sent electric shocks through my body. I don't know why, but this feeling made me feel like I was floating on air.
Meanwhile, his lower hand was teasing the small mounds at the bottom of my chest, and the pleasure from above and below flowed through my body like an electric current.
"Oh... Dad... Oh..."
I called out without thinking, and then I gripped Dad's body tightly, as if I would fall apart if I didn't.
"Oh... Mariko..."
Dad was also calling my name.
"Dad... Oh..."
"Mariko... Mariko... Oh..."
Dad and I kept calling each other's names.
(From today onwards, Mariko will do everything in place of Mom.)
I thought to myself, but didn't say it aloud.
(So please don't even think about bringing a new mom into the house!)
Although I didn't say these words, even if I wanted to, I couldn't make the right sound; only groans came out.
"Mmm! That's great! It's really great... Daddy... Mariko feels so good right now! Oh... that's great... faster... faster... faster..."
"Here? Is this it? Good girl, Mariko is so good... oh... my lovely Mariko..."
"Dad... my... my tummy is all better now... so you can do whatever you want! Mariko really loves Daddy, you can really do whatever you want, Mariko will always be yours, always your wife."
"Mariko, you silly child..."
The moment Daddy pulled his finger out and rolled over, I inexplicably became excited.
After Daddy rolled over and sat up, he lay down again, and moved his body back to my waist, then he spread my legs and bent over to press his face close to... my private parts.
My yukata wasn't fully on, so my chest, abdomen, and genitals were all exposed to my father's view. His right hand was caressing my large, proud breasts.
As he squeezed them tightly, another surge of pleasure rushed through me, and at the same time, his mouth was aimed at "that place."
"Ah...ah...Dad! What are you doing!...Dad! What are you doing!"
My father wasn't just trying to kiss them as I had imagined. In fact, he was vigorously fondling and licking them.
Oh...his tongue gradually entered the bottom of the valley, licking and twitching back and forth in this bottomless pit. The beauty of that feeling was something I had never experienced since birth.
After my father parted the small mounds on the left and right with his fingers, he revealed that small lump of flesh. Although I couldn't see what was happening, I could imagine it. A
moment later, Dad gently bit the hard, fleshy lump with his teeth, then teased it with his tongue, and then sucked on it.
I wanted to grab Dad's body, but he was too far away; I couldn't reach him at all. I could only clench my fists to resist the constant, throbbing sensation. Oh! Waves of pleasure washed over me; I was afraid I was going crazy.
I've forgotten whether I was holding a pillow or a blanket in my hands.
Dad, panting heavily, repeated the same actions.
"What's wrong...what's wrong..."
What would happen next? What new pleasures would occur? I really didn't know, so I could only ask casually.
When Dad pulled his mouth away and moved closer to me, I thought, "
(I'm going to be Dad's wife soon!)" When he inserted his penis, I was surprisingly calm. He wasn't my dad anymore, and I wondered how a woman addresses her husband after marriage. What would I call him now that I was Dad's wife? But I didn't say anything. Because I wasn't an ordinary bride, it seemed Dad didn't need any titles. Just having sex with him was enough. I didn't want him to say things like "(I'm sorry...)" I just wanted to stay silent. Now I wasn't just a wife and daughter, but also a high school student. Since that night, I've had Dad hold me every night to sleep, and my desire for sex has grown stronger every day. Lately, I've been begging Dad to have sex with me. "Are you sure you don't have any homework?" My dad always asks this, seeing me already in bed waiting. To make him happy, and also for my own desires... to have sex with him, I go straight home after school, not going anywhere else. Then I quickly finish my homework, prepare dinner, and pour a beer, waiting for him to come home. Lately, he hasn't been drinking outside or coming home late; he's made sure I'm in his heart. To me, he's a truly good husband and lover. He even teaches me about intimacy and sex techniques from time to time, and I've decided to be his most charming and best wife. As for getting married in the future, I've never thought about it. I just focus on happily being a high school student, a daughter, and a wife every day. I absolutely love the pleasure of having sex with my dad; it's so great, so wonderful!

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Female substitute motherhood

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