Incestuous Desires: A Fathers Forbidden Lust for His 14-Year-Old Daughter
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Any
resemblance between the characters and any persons
living or dead is entirely coincidental. By
presenting this story, the author neither condones nor
endorses sexual relationships legal or illegal. This
story contains depictions of incest and sex between a
minor and an adult. If such topics offend you or if
possession of this material by you is not legal in the
place where you are sitting right now reading this,
then you had better stop reading and get rid of this
right now. You'd be better spending your time reading
National Geographic or learning the rules to curling.
If, however, you are a consenting adult and a
fictional story involving incest and underage sex
sounds pretty good to you, then go ahead and keep
reading. I think you'll like it.
I was sitting on the couch dressed in my usual late
night attire, an open robe and boxer shorts, watching
the Tonight show and waiting for my daughter to come
home. I was understandably worried. Jean was only
14, a freshman in high school, and she had been asked
to the prom by a senior, one of the school's football
players. I hadn't wanted her to go. My excuse, of
course, was that I wanted to protect my baby angel,
but I think even then deep inside I knew I wanted her
for myself.
Jean was slender, but at 14 she had pretty large
breasts. True, they were barely C cups, but on her
small frame they looked much larger. It got her a lot
of attention from the boys, attention I knew had
nothing to do with her personality. I was a boy once,
too, and even if Jean didn't want to realize it I knew
that she was the star of many young boys' sexual
fantasies. Hell, she was the star in many of mine.
Her mother, though, had a very casual attitude about
it and thought it was a great idea to let our daughter
go off to the prom. Which was why she was asleep and
I was waiting on the couch.
She had permission to be out until one, but I saw car
lights hit the driveway shortly after 11:30. I closed
my robe and opened the door to greet her, and to
forestall any driveway kissing. "Asshole!" I heard
Jean hiss as she slammed the door to the jock's
Mustang, which promptly squealed its tires and roared
away. Jean stomped up the front walk fuming, holding
the hem of her dress in one hand and her heels in the
other. She stopped in surprised when she saw me.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed, then she was running into my
arms, sobbing. I helped her inside and got the story
out of her.
It was everything I had been afraid of. Almost.
Trent, her date, had taken her to a cheap restaurant
along with two other couples. Three senior boys each
with a freshman date. They had stayed barely half an
hour at the dance, not even long enough to get their
picture made, then Trent was dragging her out, saying
they had a party to go to. The party turned out to be
his two buddies and their dates down by the lake. He
tried to have his way with her, and at first (she
admitted, after much coaxing) she had been willing.
They kissed, petted a little, and then...
"Then what, baby?" I urged. We were sitting on the
sofa together, her hands clasped in mine. Her tears
had made her mascara run, and I was fighting an
erection. She was so beautiful, so wonderful to look
at, and even her slightly disheveled hair and ruined
makeup looked sexy to me. Her gown was in disarray,
the hem riding up her legs to expose her black nylons
which she had laid against my own bare legs.
"He...took his think out," she said, not meeting my
eyes.
"His penis?" I asked. She nodded. "Honey, did he..."
"No!" she said in a fierce whisper. "I'd never let
him do that. I told you, Daddy, I'm saving it for
someone special."
It wasn't what I was going to ask, but I was relieved
that she was still a virgin. Now, before that night,
I had entertained many fantasies about being her
first, never with any doubt that it would never
happen. She was my darling daughter, and I had never
tried anything with her.
"I pitched a bitch," she said, then looked startled as
she realized she had cursed in front of me.
"It's okay," I told her, smiling. "I know you use
those words. You can say them."
She blushed. "I...bitched at him until he agreed to
take me home," she said. She looked into my eyes. "I
was scared he would rape me, Daddy."
"What about the other girls?" I asked.
She snorted. "Melinda and Penny? Everybody knows
they're sluts. They were screwing their dates before
Trent had even felt me up." She was blushing even
more, but she was watching for my reaction. I smiled,
and she seemed to relax. I had opened the door, I
realize now, and everything that came after was just
inevitable.
"So, you're okay then?"
"I guess," she said. I saw some tears well up in her
eyes. "Can you hold me a while, Daddy?"
"Of course, sweetheart!" I said, enfolding her in my
arms. She snuggled in, and my erection could no
longer be stopped. I smelled the sweet fragrance of
her hair, relished the feel of her soft skin as I
stroked her neck and arms, her bare shoulders. She
was so petite, only five feet tall compared to my
nearly six feet. I felt a burning shame because of my
desire. She was my daughter, and she was as tiny as a
child, and I wanted her like I had never wanted anyone
before in my life.
I couldn't resist letting my hands wander where they
could. I stroked her back, over her hips, down the
sides of her legs. She was on my left, and she lifted
her left arm higher across my body as my hand came up
her side, as if in invitation. I wasn't bold enough
yet. My hand came tantalizingly close to her breast,
then moved away. I felt her tremble slightly, and she
sighed into my neck.
"Know what I regret most?" she said, whispering.
"What?" I asked. I felt lightheaded, like I was
outside my body watching as I tried to molest my own
daughter with gently touches.
"I didn't get to slow dance," she said. "We left
right before the first one."
"That's too bad," I said. We turned our heads as one
to look at my stereo on the shelf nearby. She looked
at me, I looked at her. She smiled, and my heart
melted.
"Daddy?" she asked. "Would you dance with me?"
I should have said no. I should have sent her on to
bed. "Yes," I heard myself saying. "I'd love to."
She didn't move, so I had to. I rose and went to the
stereo. My wife had some easy listening CD's, so I
chose one of those. Jean and I both liked hard rock.
The sound of Chicago filled the air at low volume as I
turned back to my daughter. Jean was still sitting.
She accepted my hand and rose to her feet as light as
an angel. In her shoeless state, the top of her head
came only to my chest, and her large breasts pressed
into my stomach as we stepped close together. Her
small arms went around my waist, and I rested my hands
on her bare shoulders.
We began to sway to the music, and I tried to
concentrate on keeping my erection down. I was
semi-hard, and she had to know what was pressing
against her tummy. I bent over a little and kissed
the top of her head. She looked up, smiling dreamily
into my face, and I was so very tempted to lean down
and plant a kiss on her pink lips. Maybe I would have
if she hadn't stumbled.
"Damn dress," she muttered, holding up the hem. We
pulled apart slightly.
"I thought you like it," I said.
"I do. It's just too long without my shoes on."
I was looking down at her small stockinged feet. The
black stockings were sheer enough that I could see her
painted toenails through the nylon. My cock began to
throb. "Why don't you put your shoes back on," I
suggested, not wanting out dance to end.
She shook her head. "They hurt my feet," she said.
She looked at me biting her lip.
"What?" I asked.
"Daddy?" she began, then paused. "I'm wearing a
slip," she said after a moment.
I realized quickly what she wanted. "You want to take
your dress off?" I ventured, feeling heat in my face.
She nodded slowly. "Okay," I said, nearly breathless.
She took a step back and turned around. My hands
were trembling as I took the zipper and tugged it
down. At first, I didn't see the slip, only her
deliciously pale back. The zipper reached her waist
and I let go.
Jean pushed the dress off her shoulders then stopped.
I didn't know what to do as she hesitated. She must
have come to her senses, I told myself. At least one
of us is. Then she slowly turned to face me. She
looked into my eyes, and I saw that she was waiting
for me, giving me a chance to back out. That was when
I realized our relationship was going to change
forever.
She pushed the dress off her arms and let it drop.
Her slip was a sheath of black silk across her
breasts, held in place by flimsy elastic. She wiggled
her hips and let the dress fall to the floor. I
watched open mouthed as she daintily stepped out of
the puddle of cloth at her ankles. She kicked the
dress aside. I knew I was staring but I couldn't
stop.
"I must look silly," she said, eyes downcast.
"No," I contradicted her. "You're beautiful. You're
the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." She beamed
happily. I had called her a woman, not a girl, and
maybe that was the thing that helped her cross the
barrier. She put her arms around me as she stepped
forward, pressing her body to me. This time, she had
my full erection pressed against her. She smiled up
at me then lay her head on my chest. I was shaking as
I put my arms around her again. Slowly, we began to
dance again, barely moving our feet, just enjoying the
rhythm of our bodies as we touched.
I found myself leaning over again. I kissed the top
of her head as my hands ran down her back. I stopped
just shy of her ass, unsure. Her small hands were
rubbing my back, moving in small circles. With
agonizing slowness, she moved lower and lower until
her young hands were on my ass. She squeezed gently
and giggled nervously against my chest. I suppressed
a moan as I let my hands slide over my daughter's tiny
ass. I squeezed her soft cheeks, pulling her closer.
Jean gasped and tightened her hold on my ass. Then
she made a sound that had my hairs stand on end and
lit a cold fire in my blood. My baby girl moaned.
I leaned back and she looked up at me. Her face had a
dreamy look, an expression of passion. This time I
did not hesitate to lean down, bringing my face to
hers. She rose up on her tiptoes to meet me. Our
lips brushed each other lightly, tentatively, then
more firmly. We had stopped dancing. The kiss melted
into another one, then another. We sucked at each
other's lips. I tasted her lipstick on my own lips,
and I put my tongue against her mouth. She opened to
me, allowed my tongue into her mouth and met it with
hers. We swirled together, lost in the bliss of a
passionate french kiss. She was panting, and she
moaned softly into my mouth.
I don't know how long we kissed like that. When she
finally pulled back, my cock was throbbing against
her, and I could feel her body shaking. And, just
above the flowery scent of her perfume, I could smell
her excitement. I could just detect my own daughter's
pussy smell. She looked down. She couldn't see past
her own breasts, though. "You're hard," she
whispered, then looked into my eyes.
I nodded, unable to form words. She bit her lower
lip, a habit I found delightful. "You're a good
kisser," she said, still whispering.
"So are you," I said. She giggled, then rose up on
her toes again. I rushed to kiss her again, to have
her tongue back in my mouth. I pulled her ass,
pulling her to me, and began to lift her. She put her
arms round my neck as she wrapped her legs around my
waist. Our faces were level now, and we began to kiss
more passionately.
"Oh, Daddy," she crooned as my kisses traveled across
her cheek to her neck.
"Is this what you want, baby?" I asked. "We haven't
gone too far to stop."
I felt her small hands take my head and force me back
so she could look into my eyes. "Do you want to
stop?" she asked. I shook my head. She smiled, the
most lovely smile. "Neither do I," she said. I
groaned and kissed her again. She returned it with
passion, her hands running through my hair.
I walked forward to the sofa and bent over, lowering
her to the cushions. She kept her legs around me,
though, and as she settled it brought our crotches
together. She gasped sharply as she felt my hardness
pressing against her hidden pussy. Now that I didn't
have to hold her up, my hands could wander again. I
cupped her breasts in each hand, thrilled to discover
her nipples were stiff beneath my thumbs. I licked
her neck as I massaged her globes, and she began to
moan as she panted.
I knew it was wrong. I didn't care. And neither did
she. I pulled up her slip so I could get my hands
beneath it. I stroked her flat pale tummy which
quivered under my fingertips. She arched her back as
my hand closed over her bra covered breast. I pushed
the slip up so I could see them. Glancing down, I saw
her stockings where they ended on her upper thigh. A
pale section of leg lay between the nylons and her
silky black panties. Then her wonderful body above.
She helped me, pulling the slip into a bunch at her
neck. I kissed her cleavage as I squeezed both
breasts in my hands.
Jean took my hands in her own and lifted them away.
Her bra clasped in the front and she deftly unhooked
it. Then she took my hands again and returned them to
her chest. I stared into her eyes as I swept her bra
aside, then gazed down at her naked breasts. They
were the loveliest I'd ever seen. So firm and full,
milky unblemished skin surrounding light pink areolas.
Her nipples were engorged and a darker pink in
color. I sucked the left one into my mouth, making
her gasp again. Quickly I switched to the other as my
fingers pinched the wet one I had left.
I ground my crotch against her. She squeezed me with
her legs. I suckled each of her teats several times
before I felt an overpowering urge to taste something
else. I hesitated though. "I want you," I told her,
bluntly.
She nodded. "I want you too," she said.
"I mean, I want to make love to you," I told her.
She chewed on her lip. "It's incest," she said after
a brief pause.
I nodded. "Yes," I said. "It is."
"Does it bother you?" she asked.
I was surprised. "What?"
"Incest," she repeated. "I know I'm your daughter,
and you're my Daddy, so if you think it's wrong..."
"I don't," I said, cutting her off.
"You don't?"
"Jean, I want to make love to you. I know it's
incest. I don't care."
"I don't care either," she said, thrilling me. "I
want it too, Daddy. I want you to be my first."
"Oh, baby," I said, and kissed her again. She hugged
me with her whole body, pulling us together with arms
and legs. I grabbed her hips and thrust, grinding my
hardness against her. My robe had come open. I
reached down and with a little tug allowed my cock to
jut through the fly of my boxers. When I pressed my
hips forward again, my naked cock slid across her
panties. I wanted to rip them aside, to feel the
flesh of my daughter's pussy on my cock, but I knew
there was something else I wanted too.
As quickly as I could, I moved down. I paused to
suckle her tits again, then continued to her tummy. I
kissed the flesh above her stockings, and continued
down her legs until I got to her toes. Jean was
always meticulous about staying clean. Her feet were
delightful, small enough to fit into my hands and she
squealed when I sucked on her toes. I wondered idly
if my wife could hear us and what she would do if she
caught us. And I wondered if I'd be able to stop.
I kissed my way back up Jean's legs until I got to her
crotch. I could smell her plainly now, no mistaking.
There's something very unique about the odor of a
young girl's cunt. I inhaled deeply before putting my
mouth on her damp panties. I chewed lightly, feeling
her soft lips beneath the material. She gasped and
arched her back. She pulled her legs up, putting her
stockinged feet flat on the sofa cushions so she could
spread her legs wide for me. Her panties pulled
tighter and fell between her lips. I pushed my tongue
into the cleft.
"Oh, god," she hissed. "No one's ever done that
before. Are you going to lick me, Daddy?"
In response, I pulled her panties aside. Her pussy
was as beautiful as the rest of her. Her paleness
extended right up to where her pink inner petals
unfolded, glistening wetly with her excitement. The
hair on her head might have been auburn, but it was
dyed, and here was her true color where dark red wisps
of pubic hair formed an elongated vee pointing down at
her treasure. Her lips had only the finest of small
hairs, nothing to impede me as I leaned forward and
pressed my tongue into the folds of her pussy.
Jean tensed as I licked her. I plowed my tongue into
her depths then swirled around her swollen clit. The
taste was indescribable, musky and clean. Her
excretions were thicker than water, and they tasted a
bit metallic. I sucked her clit then lapped at her
cuntlips, trying to drink up everything she was
exuding. I pressed used my fingers to spread her,
delighting in the sight of her pinkness, and pressed
my tongue to her fuckhole. I was worried about her
being a virgin in every way, but I found no trace of a
hymen. She was tight, though, and I had to shove my
tongue into her. When I wiggled it inside her, she
clutched at the cushions and cried out.
She was trying to be quiet, keeping her moans down to
rasping pants, but I no longer cared if my wife caught
us. I was going to give my baby an orgasm if it was
THE END
resemblance between the characters and any persons
living or dead is entirely coincidental. By
presenting this story, the author neither condones nor
endorses sexual relationships legal or illegal. This
story contains depictions of incest and sex between a
minor and an adult. If such topics offend you or if
possession of this material by you is not legal in the
place where you are sitting right now reading this,
then you had better stop reading and get rid of this
right now. You'd be better spending your time reading
National Geographic or learning the rules to curling.
If, however, you are a consenting adult and a
fictional story involving incest and underage sex
sounds pretty good to you, then go ahead and keep
reading. I think you'll like it.
I was sitting on the couch dressed in my usual late
night attire, an open robe and boxer shorts, watching
the Tonight show and waiting for my daughter to come
home. I was understandably worried. Jean was only
14, a freshman in high school, and she had been asked
to the prom by a senior, one of the school's football
players. I hadn't wanted her to go. My excuse, of
course, was that I wanted to protect my baby angel,
but I think even then deep inside I knew I wanted her
for myself.
Jean was slender, but at 14 she had pretty large
breasts. True, they were barely C cups, but on her
small frame they looked much larger. It got her a lot
of attention from the boys, attention I knew had
nothing to do with her personality. I was a boy once,
too, and even if Jean didn't want to realize it I knew
that she was the star of many young boys' sexual
fantasies. Hell, she was the star in many of mine.
Her mother, though, had a very casual attitude about
it and thought it was a great idea to let our daughter
go off to the prom. Which was why she was asleep and
I was waiting on the couch.
She had permission to be out until one, but I saw car
lights hit the driveway shortly after 11:30. I closed
my robe and opened the door to greet her, and to
forestall any driveway kissing. "Asshole!" I heard
Jean hiss as she slammed the door to the jock's
Mustang, which promptly squealed its tires and roared
away. Jean stomped up the front walk fuming, holding
the hem of her dress in one hand and her heels in the
other. She stopped in surprised when she saw me.
"Daddy!" she exclaimed, then she was running into my
arms, sobbing. I helped her inside and got the story
out of her.
It was everything I had been afraid of. Almost.
Trent, her date, had taken her to a cheap restaurant
along with two other couples. Three senior boys each
with a freshman date. They had stayed barely half an
hour at the dance, not even long enough to get their
picture made, then Trent was dragging her out, saying
they had a party to go to. The party turned out to be
his two buddies and their dates down by the lake. He
tried to have his way with her, and at first (she
admitted, after much coaxing) she had been willing.
They kissed, petted a little, and then...
"Then what, baby?" I urged. We were sitting on the
sofa together, her hands clasped in mine. Her tears
had made her mascara run, and I was fighting an
erection. She was so beautiful, so wonderful to look
at, and even her slightly disheveled hair and ruined
makeup looked sexy to me. Her gown was in disarray,
the hem riding up her legs to expose her black nylons
which she had laid against my own bare legs.
"He...took his think out," she said, not meeting my
eyes.
"His penis?" I asked. She nodded. "Honey, did he..."
"No!" she said in a fierce whisper. "I'd never let
him do that. I told you, Daddy, I'm saving it for
someone special."
It wasn't what I was going to ask, but I was relieved
that she was still a virgin. Now, before that night,
I had entertained many fantasies about being her
first, never with any doubt that it would never
happen. She was my darling daughter, and I had never
tried anything with her.
"I pitched a bitch," she said, then looked startled as
she realized she had cursed in front of me.
"It's okay," I told her, smiling. "I know you use
those words. You can say them."
She blushed. "I...bitched at him until he agreed to
take me home," she said. She looked into my eyes. "I
was scared he would rape me, Daddy."
"What about the other girls?" I asked.
She snorted. "Melinda and Penny? Everybody knows
they're sluts. They were screwing their dates before
Trent had even felt me up." She was blushing even
more, but she was watching for my reaction. I smiled,
and she seemed to relax. I had opened the door, I
realize now, and everything that came after was just
inevitable.
"So, you're okay then?"
"I guess," she said. I saw some tears well up in her
eyes. "Can you hold me a while, Daddy?"
"Of course, sweetheart!" I said, enfolding her in my
arms. She snuggled in, and my erection could no
longer be stopped. I smelled the sweet fragrance of
her hair, relished the feel of her soft skin as I
stroked her neck and arms, her bare shoulders. She
was so petite, only five feet tall compared to my
nearly six feet. I felt a burning shame because of my
desire. She was my daughter, and she was as tiny as a
child, and I wanted her like I had never wanted anyone
before in my life.
I couldn't resist letting my hands wander where they
could. I stroked her back, over her hips, down the
sides of her legs. She was on my left, and she lifted
her left arm higher across my body as my hand came up
her side, as if in invitation. I wasn't bold enough
yet. My hand came tantalizingly close to her breast,
then moved away. I felt her tremble slightly, and she
sighed into my neck.
"Know what I regret most?" she said, whispering.
"What?" I asked. I felt lightheaded, like I was
outside my body watching as I tried to molest my own
daughter with gently touches.
"I didn't get to slow dance," she said. "We left
right before the first one."
"That's too bad," I said. We turned our heads as one
to look at my stereo on the shelf nearby. She looked
at me, I looked at her. She smiled, and my heart
melted.
"Daddy?" she asked. "Would you dance with me?"
I should have said no. I should have sent her on to
bed. "Yes," I heard myself saying. "I'd love to."
She didn't move, so I had to. I rose and went to the
stereo. My wife had some easy listening CD's, so I
chose one of those. Jean and I both liked hard rock.
The sound of Chicago filled the air at low volume as I
turned back to my daughter. Jean was still sitting.
She accepted my hand and rose to her feet as light as
an angel. In her shoeless state, the top of her head
came only to my chest, and her large breasts pressed
into my stomach as we stepped close together. Her
small arms went around my waist, and I rested my hands
on her bare shoulders.
We began to sway to the music, and I tried to
concentrate on keeping my erection down. I was
semi-hard, and she had to know what was pressing
against her tummy. I bent over a little and kissed
the top of her head. She looked up, smiling dreamily
into my face, and I was so very tempted to lean down
and plant a kiss on her pink lips. Maybe I would have
if she hadn't stumbled.
"Damn dress," she muttered, holding up the hem. We
pulled apart slightly.
"I thought you like it," I said.
"I do. It's just too long without my shoes on."
I was looking down at her small stockinged feet. The
black stockings were sheer enough that I could see her
painted toenails through the nylon. My cock began to
throb. "Why don't you put your shoes back on," I
suggested, not wanting out dance to end.
She shook her head. "They hurt my feet," she said.
She looked at me biting her lip.
"What?" I asked.
"Daddy?" she began, then paused. "I'm wearing a
slip," she said after a moment.
I realized quickly what she wanted. "You want to take
your dress off?" I ventured, feeling heat in my face.
She nodded slowly. "Okay," I said, nearly breathless.
She took a step back and turned around. My hands
were trembling as I took the zipper and tugged it
down. At first, I didn't see the slip, only her
deliciously pale back. The zipper reached her waist
and I let go.
Jean pushed the dress off her shoulders then stopped.
I didn't know what to do as she hesitated. She must
have come to her senses, I told myself. At least one
of us is. Then she slowly turned to face me. She
looked into my eyes, and I saw that she was waiting
for me, giving me a chance to back out. That was when
I realized our relationship was going to change
forever.
She pushed the dress off her arms and let it drop.
Her slip was a sheath of black silk across her
breasts, held in place by flimsy elastic. She wiggled
her hips and let the dress fall to the floor. I
watched open mouthed as she daintily stepped out of
the puddle of cloth at her ankles. She kicked the
dress aside. I knew I was staring but I couldn't
stop.
"I must look silly," she said, eyes downcast.
"No," I contradicted her. "You're beautiful. You're
the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." She beamed
happily. I had called her a woman, not a girl, and
maybe that was the thing that helped her cross the
barrier. She put her arms around me as she stepped
forward, pressing her body to me. This time, she had
my full erection pressed against her. She smiled up
at me then lay her head on my chest. I was shaking as
I put my arms around her again. Slowly, we began to
dance again, barely moving our feet, just enjoying the
rhythm of our bodies as we touched.
I found myself leaning over again. I kissed the top
of her head as my hands ran down her back. I stopped
just shy of her ass, unsure. Her small hands were
rubbing my back, moving in small circles. With
agonizing slowness, she moved lower and lower until
her young hands were on my ass. She squeezed gently
and giggled nervously against my chest. I suppressed
a moan as I let my hands slide over my daughter's tiny
ass. I squeezed her soft cheeks, pulling her closer.
Jean gasped and tightened her hold on my ass. Then
she made a sound that had my hairs stand on end and
lit a cold fire in my blood. My baby girl moaned.
I leaned back and she looked up at me. Her face had a
dreamy look, an expression of passion. This time I
did not hesitate to lean down, bringing my face to
hers. She rose up on her tiptoes to meet me. Our
lips brushed each other lightly, tentatively, then
more firmly. We had stopped dancing. The kiss melted
into another one, then another. We sucked at each
other's lips. I tasted her lipstick on my own lips,
and I put my tongue against her mouth. She opened to
me, allowed my tongue into her mouth and met it with
hers. We swirled together, lost in the bliss of a
passionate french kiss. She was panting, and she
moaned softly into my mouth.
I don't know how long we kissed like that. When she
finally pulled back, my cock was throbbing against
her, and I could feel her body shaking. And, just
above the flowery scent of her perfume, I could smell
her excitement. I could just detect my own daughter's
pussy smell. She looked down. She couldn't see past
her own breasts, though. "You're hard," she
whispered, then looked into my eyes.
I nodded, unable to form words. She bit her lower
lip, a habit I found delightful. "You're a good
kisser," she said, still whispering.
"So are you," I said. She giggled, then rose up on
her toes again. I rushed to kiss her again, to have
her tongue back in my mouth. I pulled her ass,
pulling her to me, and began to lift her. She put her
arms round my neck as she wrapped her legs around my
waist. Our faces were level now, and we began to kiss
more passionately.
"Oh, Daddy," she crooned as my kisses traveled across
her cheek to her neck.
"Is this what you want, baby?" I asked. "We haven't
gone too far to stop."
I felt her small hands take my head and force me back
so she could look into my eyes. "Do you want to
stop?" she asked. I shook my head. She smiled, the
most lovely smile. "Neither do I," she said. I
groaned and kissed her again. She returned it with
passion, her hands running through my hair.
I walked forward to the sofa and bent over, lowering
her to the cushions. She kept her legs around me,
though, and as she settled it brought our crotches
together. She gasped sharply as she felt my hardness
pressing against her hidden pussy. Now that I didn't
have to hold her up, my hands could wander again. I
cupped her breasts in each hand, thrilled to discover
her nipples were stiff beneath my thumbs. I licked
her neck as I massaged her globes, and she began to
moan as she panted.
I knew it was wrong. I didn't care. And neither did
she. I pulled up her slip so I could get my hands
beneath it. I stroked her flat pale tummy which
quivered under my fingertips. She arched her back as
my hand closed over her bra covered breast. I pushed
the slip up so I could see them. Glancing down, I saw
her stockings where they ended on her upper thigh. A
pale section of leg lay between the nylons and her
silky black panties. Then her wonderful body above.
She helped me, pulling the slip into a bunch at her
neck. I kissed her cleavage as I squeezed both
breasts in my hands.
Jean took my hands in her own and lifted them away.
Her bra clasped in the front and she deftly unhooked
it. Then she took my hands again and returned them to
her chest. I stared into her eyes as I swept her bra
aside, then gazed down at her naked breasts. They
were the loveliest I'd ever seen. So firm and full,
milky unblemished skin surrounding light pink areolas.
Her nipples were engorged and a darker pink in
color. I sucked the left one into my mouth, making
her gasp again. Quickly I switched to the other as my
fingers pinched the wet one I had left.
I ground my crotch against her. She squeezed me with
her legs. I suckled each of her teats several times
before I felt an overpowering urge to taste something
else. I hesitated though. "I want you," I told her,
bluntly.
She nodded. "I want you too," she said.
"I mean, I want to make love to you," I told her.
She chewed on her lip. "It's incest," she said after
a brief pause.
I nodded. "Yes," I said. "It is."
"Does it bother you?" she asked.
I was surprised. "What?"
"Incest," she repeated. "I know I'm your daughter,
and you're my Daddy, so if you think it's wrong..."
"I don't," I said, cutting her off.
"You don't?"
"Jean, I want to make love to you. I know it's
incest. I don't care."
"I don't care either," she said, thrilling me. "I
want it too, Daddy. I want you to be my first."
"Oh, baby," I said, and kissed her again. She hugged
me with her whole body, pulling us together with arms
and legs. I grabbed her hips and thrust, grinding my
hardness against her. My robe had come open. I
reached down and with a little tug allowed my cock to
jut through the fly of my boxers. When I pressed my
hips forward again, my naked cock slid across her
panties. I wanted to rip them aside, to feel the
flesh of my daughter's pussy on my cock, but I knew
there was something else I wanted too.
As quickly as I could, I moved down. I paused to
suckle her tits again, then continued to her tummy. I
kissed the flesh above her stockings, and continued
down her legs until I got to her toes. Jean was
always meticulous about staying clean. Her feet were
delightful, small enough to fit into my hands and she
squealed when I sucked on her toes. I wondered idly
if my wife could hear us and what she would do if she
caught us. And I wondered if I'd be able to stop.
I kissed my way back up Jean's legs until I got to her
crotch. I could smell her plainly now, no mistaking.
There's something very unique about the odor of a
young girl's cunt. I inhaled deeply before putting my
mouth on her damp panties. I chewed lightly, feeling
her soft lips beneath the material. She gasped and
arched her back. She pulled her legs up, putting her
stockinged feet flat on the sofa cushions so she could
spread her legs wide for me. Her panties pulled
tighter and fell between her lips. I pushed my tongue
into the cleft.
"Oh, god," she hissed. "No one's ever done that
before. Are you going to lick me, Daddy?"
In response, I pulled her panties aside. Her pussy
was as beautiful as the rest of her. Her paleness
extended right up to where her pink inner petals
unfolded, glistening wetly with her excitement. The
hair on her head might have been auburn, but it was
dyed, and here was her true color where dark red wisps
of pubic hair formed an elongated vee pointing down at
her treasure. Her lips had only the finest of small
hairs, nothing to impede me as I leaned forward and
pressed my tongue into the folds of her pussy.
Jean tensed as I licked her. I plowed my tongue into
her depths then swirled around her swollen clit. The
taste was indescribable, musky and clean. Her
excretions were thicker than water, and they tasted a
bit metallic. I sucked her clit then lapped at her
cuntlips, trying to drink up everything she was
exuding. I pressed used my fingers to spread her,
delighting in the sight of her pinkness, and pressed
my tongue to her fuckhole. I was worried about her
being a virgin in every way, but I found no trace of a
hymen. She was tight, though, and I had to shove my
tongue into her. When I wiggled it inside her, she
clutched at the cushions and cried out.
She was trying to be quiet, keeping her moans down to
rasping pants, but I no longer cared if my wife caught
us. I was going to give my baby an orgasm if it was
THE END
