She pressed herself against him, felt his strength and heat even though he was still almost fully dressed. Cautiously, she released the fastening of the negligee, spread it open so she could press the full length of her body against him. Then, on second thought, she shed the robe completely. Totally naked, she snuggled beside her father and held the phallus that had planted her own seed. She squirmed, easing the head of his penis into her steaming, boiling, ravenous socket.
He pulled away from her, pressed against the back of the couch. Desperately, she followed him, running her thumbs over the slippery tip of his cock. Then he leaned against her, and she understood. She wriggled to her back under him. He towered over her, his face torn with conflict. She spread her legs for him.
She managed to wrench his cock free of his underpants, shoving them downward. Then she guided the tip of his prick to her pussy, and nuzzled it into her hot slit until it pressed against her virgin barrier.
'Yes, Daddy?' she asked, pleaded, begged. 'Yes?”
'Oh, my sweet Baby,' he groaned, sinking his cock in her tight tunnel.
She kept her grasp on his cock as it thrust into her. She felt her barrier tug and stretch, felt the tip of his dick spread the small hole that was already there. She felt her cherry begin to tear. It was a burning, ripping pain. She squeezed her eyes shut against the tears, and bit back a cry. Her flesh shredded. Her father's cock had shattered her innocence.
Then, the pain faded to an ache, and she felt him pumping his prick into her. She let go of his cock. He moved very easily and carefully, deeper and deeper into her hole, spreading and stretching tissues that had never before felt the touch of a cock.
She opened her thighs wider, and hugged his big, heavy bulk to her. She felt him drive deeper and deeper and deeper. Every move made the bleeding tatters of her hymen burn and sting.
And then, his cock was sunk full-depth in her clutching, bleeding hole, and his pubic arch crunched down on her clitoris. The pain melted away like mist in the sun. She was so full, so wonderfully, wonderfully, completely full! There wasn't room for anything in her mind but incredible love and unbelievable pleasure.
'Oh, Daddy,' she sighed happily as his panting breath steamed the side of his neck. Grasping his head, she forced him to kiss her. Their mouths clashed in a ravenous clatter of teeth and tongues. As they fought to devour each other, he began gently fucking his cock in and out of her glutted cunt.
Flames ranged through her. They flared up as her clit was pounded once, twice, three times… then she lost count. She felt his dork stroking the clutching velvet walls of her hole. The fire in her guts got hotter and hotter and hotter until it swirled up in a searing cyclone and crisped her consciousness. As her awareness flittered away in a glittering dance of sparks, her only regret was that she had waited so long.
Chapter 4
After he had shanked his third drive off the practice tee, Mike jammed the driver back in the bag and stamped off to the clubhouse. It was impossible, he thought dismally, to hit a decent drive when all you could see was your daughter's naked body. He wasn't sure which was worst: the gnawing guilt over what he had done, or the aching, horny desire to do it again.
Now, he mused, he was afraid to go home. He was afraid that she would be there, waiting for him. He knew it would be impossible to resist her siren call, no matter how hard he tried. He was afraid, though, that she wouldn't have to even hint that she wanted him* He was terrified he might actually rape his own daughter.
'Double scotch,” he said as he slumped down at the bar. Resolutely, he kept his back toward the door, kept his shoulders hunched in silent rejection of companionship. The bartender, showing the skillful tact of that breed, served him silently, and left the chit un»totaled.
What the hell was he going to do, Mike wondered. He had to live with the girl. She was his daughter. He couldn't send her away-she was only seventeen, just entering her last year of high school. One more year, and she would have been in college, and the whole thing would never have happened.
He considered moving out himself. But he couldn't abandon the kids. After all, why should Gabby and Patty suffer for what he and Micaela had done? They didn't have anyone else, what with all the grandparents gone, and no aunts or uncles.
The scotch burned his throat and started into his bloodstream. He felt his muscles begin to relax for the first time since it had happened two days ago. He rapped his glass on the bar. The bartender came over and refilled it.
Mike thought again of that night. The ache in his gut swelled and pulsed, threatened to devour him. Christ, if only it had been just once, he could pass it off as a mistake. But it hadn't been just once. He had taken her again, right there on the sofa. His cock had risen to the occasion like a damn animal. She had welcomed him the second time even more eagerly than she had the first. It had lasted longer, oh, so exquisitely much longer. Her sweat-slick body under his had humped eagerly as he had driven into it. She had stripped him naked between bouts. Then they had coupled in a tangle of arms and legs. Her breasts had been twin cushions against his hairy chest.
He felt his cock rise and stiffen. He was glad he could hide his hard-on, because he sure couldn't stop thinking of Micaela. How her eyes had flashed and her fingers had clawed at him. He remembered how tight and hot her cunt had been. She had arched and scratched as he had reamed her with his cock. He had ground his pubis against hers as he struggled to touch bottom with his dick.
Mike tossed off the second double scotch and rapped for a third. He didn't notice that the bartender shorted him on the measure this time. Bartenders know, the good ones anyway. Mike swilled the booze around in his mouth.
She had been an imp, a flashing, darting elf of lust. If imps and elf’s were built the way she was. No, those terms were more for Patty and Gabby. Micaela had taken his second gusher of cum with a wail of ecstasy. Her cunt had spasmed around his jetting cock, her fingernails had raked his back. She had arched off the sofa, held more than half his weight on her groin. God! It had been better even than it had been with her mother. She seemed to have no inhibitions, only instincts.
He'd felt like a kid, a stupid, fucking kid. Proud, just because he could get it up for a second go-around. She had dumped him off her and scampered through the house. Her full tits had jiggled excitingly while his cum, stained with the pink swirls of her virginity, drizzled from her sodden cunt.
Laughing and snorting like a fool, he had pursued her, and caught her, and loved her with his hands and his mouth. His cock had risen to the occasion yet again, though his groin had ached in protest. But, instead of taking him willingly, she had teased him then. She led him, guided him to the shower. She had twisted and turned under the spray while he bathed her. Then, scented and powdered and squeaky clean, she had insisted that he shower, too.
When he had come out, she had been waiting for him, in bed, in his bed, nude and luscious and lovely. The covers had been thrown casually off the bed. She had been there on the white sheet, her naked body a study in pink and white, with auburn hair.
She had cuddled his head as he nursed on her tits. He had tongued her rosy buds until they were stiff and hard, and glistening with spit. Then, dear God, she had eased him onto his back, straddled him, and lowered herself on his aching hard-on. The hot, wet, velvety sucking glove of her cunt had swallowed his thrusting phallus yet again. He had looked down, and watched it vanish into her red muff.
She had ridden him like he was a stallion. She had bounced in the saddle without getting unseated. His prick had been burned numb from the endless stimulation. He had reached up and clutched her breasts. She had thrown her head back like a spirited mare as his fingers bruised her soft, tender flesh. While he watched, she had reached down and found her clit and diddled herself to a flaring peak while pogo-sticking up and down, up and down, up and down on his aching, exhausted, rock-hard cock.
He hadn't thought he could possibly come a third time. But she kept doing it, kept bouncing and bouncing and bouncing, until he thought his prick was going to get wrenched off. She had swung her hips with a whore's skill, until finally his aching groin had reached the flash point and erupted. Only there wasn't any cum left to pump, so he just spasmed in dry heaves. He had felt like he was being hacked in two with a dull ax.
Then, his dick still in her wet, warm hole, she had slumped on top of him, and sunk into a deep, contented sleep. They had spent the night that way: cuddled together on the same bed on which he had asked her.
