My Daughter Is My Wife

As I carried my naked, violated and moaning daughter to bed, I was already stiffening in anticipation of our future. But I had no idea where we’d go together, how much of a libertine my Erin was or what I was capable of. Let’s just say that there is a last ethical line; and once you cross that there are no lines you can’t justify crossing.
FOREWORD

First this is a story heavy, well, story. If you want less story and more fap, I just saved you some time.

I recently posted my true story of why and how I had incest with my aunt. In unpacking that memory and all that I did, I see it had more of a profound effect on my “morality” (ethics really, until I grew a conscience many years later) and it helps me understand why incest is such a tantalizing subject, as aberrant as it is.

OBLIGATORY SELF ANALYSIS – Recreating or conflating past lovers into characters along with smelting together my acts of sexual thrills and deviancy brings memories of them and the sensations back. That and nearly 70 years of life, including 40 years of marriage with three decades of amazing monogamy and sexual adventures, gives my imagination enough to fill in the gaps with what is possible and how it would feel. I guess retirement’s a problem. As a husband, father, rescuer and Christian these things remained in the past and part of a different life. Now without the constant focus, retirement compounded by nCov2019’s churches’ closing, the only thing left is caring for the house and my wife. So there’s plenty of time to just remember. A dark spot in my heart I believed gone, has opened up and flooded me with perverse remembrances and resulting fantasies. “Idle hands..” and all that.

Equipped with all of that and an overwhelming desire to put my darkest most depraved fantasies down, I started writing again with the prequel to this story “My Daughter, My Wife”. There, the father who had been an honorable and ethical man that had been totally committed to his wife and together they raised a brilliant, beautiful and successful daughter. The daughter had been away for a long time, in the care of his divorced, empty nester sister. A sister that gave her virginity to him many years ago, blurring the line between right and wrong. This daughter also had an undiagnosed and unresolved Electra complex. Her desires were stoked as she came of age and, unknown to the girl’s father, instilled a libertine world view. We left the father and his petite daughter with him cradling her aching and naked body in his naked lap as the steamy waters cleansed them of the remnants from their unnatural union.

I won’t insult the reader’s intelligence with a protracted boilerplate disclaimer so I’ll just say, “Don’t.”

INTRODUCTION

We had sat for a long time, her in my lap while I held her and the steam swirled about us. I was very relaxed and she was dozing only to come awake with a hiss, whimper or yelp whenever her battered cunt slipped or got pressed by her shifting weight. Talk about conflicted, the daddy in me felt pangs of hurt and concern over her suffering. The incestuous deviant in me smiled inwardly at her pain, a penance for what she wanted to happen. But I also felt conflicting emotions. I still felt incredible affection for my daughter while I had started to see her as a sexual being. But there was something else. A longing to possess her, love her and become one with her. I silently mouthed, “Oh Moira, please forgive me.”

We’d dried but she refused a robe or pajamas and it hurt to walk. So I picked her up and though she protested in pain, she clung to my neck and pressed her face into my chest. I froze as I turned to leave and saw the obscene and perverted sight of a large naked father holding his small ravished daughter. It was the image of her swollen pudenda that really gave me pause. The redness of her vulva against the whiteness of her mons and the protrusion of her red, swollen and raw labia caused my hanging cock to jump. I literally licked my lips as my focus turned on the shiny coating of her battered pussy. As much washing and cleaning as there had been, a thin milky film coated the freshly deflowered pussy and a milky drop hung threateningly from her protruding lips. A pink tinge tinted the translucent fluid as it hung ready to drip.

As I carried my naked, violated and moaning daughter to bed, I was already stiffening in anticipation of our future. She was in a light sleep when I went to lay her down in her bed but opened her eyes when I began lowering her, “No daddy, with you. Please?” My heart caught in my throat. We had defiled my marital bed, there was no denying that but I knew if I lay Erin down on her mother’s side she’d stay. I wasn’t ready to replace Moira and found that ironic. I had just fucked and deflowered her daughter while her photo looked over us and was already carrying her back into our marital bed.

I laid her down as gently as I could but not without groans and moaning. Even straightening her legs invoked discomfort and I had to move slowly. Some of her damp hair spread out while some stuck to her face, throat and tit. I pulled the cool sheet up to her neck and she pushed it back down below her white breasts. She reached her arms up with effort and I bent to kiss her goodnight. I fully intended it to be soft and chaste but she had other ideas and it turned into a torrid, sloppy open mouth kiss. I stood to leave her side when she stopped me. She had seen my treasonous dick had become hard again and had started to leak, “You can cum on me if you want daddy.”

I almost shit and my cock lurched, slinging a hanging drop onto the sheets. “Not tonight sweetie. Not much more I’d rather do right now, but you need to rest. Go to sleep honey,” and I kissed her on her forehead before leaving the room. Walking through the quiet house completely naked was kind of a thrill. I grabbed a half full Solo cup of whisky and retired to the hot tub. I drank and masturbated while replaying tonight’s total abandonment of anything normal or right in a father’s love for his daughter. I must’ve cum 2 more times before I drug my exhausted ass to bed, feeling sorry for myself.

HEALING ACCOMMODATIONS

I was on my second cup and almost done with the breakfast steaks and omelets. Fresh organic tomatoes were sliced and on the table, straight from the giant hot house that had been Moira’s pride and joy. Erin emerged, looking like my little girl and not so much my lover with tussled hair and blinking eyes. I struggled with whether I needed to help her as her pained shuffle looked difficult. But she forced a sweet smile, “Good morning daddy.” Well, she didn’t hate me at least.

She groaned as she sat at the table and clasped my hands in hers as I was setting her cup down. She actually kissed my arm when I reached in front of her. She was wearing one of my t-shirts and as large as it was still rested on her small breasts and her tiny nipples were more apparent. I mused over their still being swollen and wondered how sensitive they were. She was already a minimalist when she used makeup largely because she didn’t need it. Now her fresh face glowed in the bright sunlight that filled the kitchen and breakfast alcove.

I could see her fatigue and her features were frequently marred with grimaces, furrowed eyebrows and winces as every move seemed to hurt. I found her beautiful as she ate and the way she cradled her coffee cup before taking a sip. Yet I was bothered by her obvious suffering. What I did, what I allowed to happen between us was such a betrayal of trust, even if she was actively working to make it happen. Yet she never looked at me with anything but affection and I really wanted to soothe the damage I had done to her small body and especially her swollen pussy.

Moira and myself had worked toward being as healthy and self sustaining as we could be. The hothouses grew vegetables and Moira had an encyclopedic knowledge of medicinal plants and herbs. We had a half dozen of very successful beehives that shared their honey, bees wax and propolis. She ordered arnica flowers in bulk and we made tinctures for rub downs after especially heavy workouts and strenuous projects.

I was making Erin some arnica tea and an idea came to me. The problem with tinctures is they, by definition, are infused in alcohol. It was when I had picked up the cup and turned to bring it over that Erin clamped her hands in her lap and groaned as she bent over. I placed the cup in front of her and bent to kiss her cheek as I rubbed her back. She straightened up and turned to kiss me on the lips. She hissed from pain as she twisted in her chair but she still completed her mission of kissing her daddy. “I’ll be right back baby, I’m going to make a bath for you.” She nodded with kind of sad but hopeful eyes.

I went to the medicine pantry and removed one of the 2# packs of arnica flowers that Moira had vacuum sealed. We had probably a dozen or more of these packs. My ensuite had a jetted tub along with the giant walk-in shower. I started the water, just the hot which could be scalding if one wasn’t careful. Between the high temperatures of the tankless water heater and the solar heating panels on the roof, it was steaming hot coming out of the tap. I slit the vacuum packed arnica bag and it hissed as the dried flowers expanded. I ripped the top of the bag and dumped the entire thing into the tub. An umber color immediately started emanating from the swirling blossoms and the water quickly became a golden color. It was darkening as I left to retrieve my aching daughter.

When I returned and sat Erin on her feet, she looked questioningly at the tea colored tub with brown plant pieces floating and swirling around. I had sat with her and drank another coffee while we talked to give the tub time to steep and cool some. I lifted my moaning daughter and carried her back. Her head was on my chest and her arms around my neck; that warmed me from the middle of my chest to the ends of my arms and legs. “It’s arnica honey, it’ll help with pain and help to heal bruises and muscle aches,” I explained in answer to her questioning look.

The tub steamed and she watched intently as I skimmed the depleted flowers from the water so that I could run the jets. I dipped my fingers in the water and found it hot but not uncomfortably so. Just to be sure, I dipped my hand in to the wrist. It was plenty hot yet well within my comfort level. But it wasn’t my battered sex that was going in it. I got up and turned to my shivering daughter.

I helped pull my t-shirt off Erin and saw she wasn’t wearing panties. I got a quick scan as she looked up with wide eyes and biting her lower lip. The angry bruises on her throat and tit were really dark. Her previously bee sting nipples were darker and swollen. Her labia was still ruby red and swollen/distended beyond her vulva and still had thin trails of what had to be our combined fluids glinting on her left inside thigh. I was thankful I had jeans on. She fell into me, hugging my waist and pressing her face into my t-shirt, “Why are you shaking Erin?”

“I just feel cold daddy, I have chills,” and she tightened her arms around me.

“Okay sweetie, let’s get you in the tub.” I didn’t wait for a reply and had already scooped her up and was turning to the tub.

I bent to lower her and her pointed toes hit the water, “Oh! That’s… that’s hot daddy.” I nodded and submerged her legs to the knee when her ass and swollen sex “kissed” the water. She sucked air in, sharply and through clenched teeth, “OW!, Ow daddy! That burns.”

I kissed her face several times and hushed her, “Shhhhhhhh. I know sweetie, take some breaths and I’ll go slow.” She whimpered as I held her right where she was for several seconds and then moaned as I lowered her hips and then thighs before laying her back on the tub’s seat. One more hiss as her sensitive nipples submerged in the steaming water, “Okay sweetie, you’re in. Better?” Erin nodded her head slowly and she purposefully smiled at me. “Just soak sweetie, let the arnica work. When, I mean IF you’re ready, run the jets.”

I had my hands on her shoulders, stroking her arms as the only place I thought I could touch her. She leaned her head against my forearm for a minute and leaned her head back, “I feel better daddy. Thank you,” her relaxed smile made me feel like her dad. The restricted thickening in my jeans made me feel like a pervert. The conflict didn’t haunt me though, it stimulated me just because of the taboo. She turned with a grunt and slipped a wet arm behind my neck to pull me around for a soft kiss. I tilted off balance and my right arm went to the seat of the tub to catch myself. She yelped because my hand thrummed her left tit and nipple on its way to gain purchase on the tub.

She pulled my face to hers for a lingering and tender kiss. I had to leave now, my cock had become painfully erect in my jeans, bent unnaturally down the left leg. I mean my fitness kept me more “responsive” than a lot of men my age. But with Erin, I exceeded what I thought was possible for the speed and frequency of renewed “readiness”. That doesn’t even touch on my disbelief at my volume of cum across multiple orgasms.

But she needed to heal. I smiled when I thought about how bad her mother had been after our torrid week long fuck fest. I reluctantly rose, “I have to get out and on the tractor sweetie before the heat of the day.” She nodded and lay back, her back arching briefly as she settled in causing those incredibly erotic nipples to surface. I stood looking down and admiring her. After that tantalizing stretch, I made a production of biting the heel of my hand which brought a very cute giggle from my soaking and newly relaxed daughter.

The hot and dusty day did as I hoped, it had stilled my ardor and the hot shower (that ran brown at first from the dirt and grime washing off of me) began to make me drowsy. I had done a boat-ton of weeding and cleared a French drain and, as fit as I am, I felt my age as my shoulders and arms ached.

I remember Moira talking about hiring a yard guy long before she got sick. I relished the labor when Moira and Erin were gone but now I was seriously reconsidering it. Especially when my right shoulder popped. I stopped by the medicine pantry and grabbed a jar of tincture of arnica, a dark brown spirit to rub into my muscles. I walked to the kitchen bar, poured a couple ounces of whisky in a tumbler and sat at the breakfast nook. From there I could sip whisky and rub arnica into my arms and legs, while I looked at the freshly cut yard with the rough and the trees that marked its edges.

I was pleased with myself, with the completeness of my work. But the neglect of the last month and a half, turned a two hour job into five hours. I cursed myself for letting it get that way and swore silently that I would hit it at least every two weeks. I was hoping for an afternoon, maybe catching a game on the big screen. Instead, all I had left in me was to relax, get something to eat and try and get some sleep.

BETTER

Erin came in, wearing a thin cotton night shirt that ended in the middle of those luscious thighs. Her blond hair was almost dry but its original red was more readily apparent. The sun kissed tips had gone from platinum to gold highlights. Her golden hair now looked like rose gold. The hickeys weren’t so black and angry anymore. And while the shirt was a size too small, its nipple defining cling didn’t seem to cause too much discomfort.

While she still walked carefully she didn’t wince, hiss or whimper. Her face was fresh and it glowed. Her warm smile rarely lessened, only with infrequent twinges. I became suddenly aware of my naked torso. I had always limited going shirtless to the pool or beach trips in the past and even then would put a shirt when out of the water. And I just as quickly laughed at what had been habit before, “You just fucked your daughter, I think she scan handle seeing your chest,” my internal argument signaling another father/daughter boundary dying.

Erin looked weird to me. She was still my daughter, but the girl whose virtue I had taken and the look in her eyes was different. I don’t know how to describe it. It wasn’t a crazed or even a lustful look but it was intense and her eyes never left mine. It was like her mom, I was enchanted and I don’t think I could of moved if I had wanted. But as she pulled a chair up, that expression became my teenage daughter’s again, “May I have one daddy?” She nodded to my tumbler. It was like she had shaken the mouse to wake up the PC. Then that weird expression returned and the timbre of her voice was different too, but still her, “Least you can do is buy a girl a drink,” she chuckled cutely at herself, “Especially after the night I gave you.”

“What.. huh? I mean, uh, yeah… yes, of course!” I was grateful I didn’t have a hard on when I stood but my cock was heavy. I sat the glass in front of her and bent to kiss her upturned lips. It was a gentle kiss, not a full on French kiss but her tongue slid across my lips before breaking to raise her glass. I cursed myself for the lurch I felt in my semi-hard cock and it threatened to creep out of my left leg hole.

As I sat down and reached for the jar of the arnica tincture, my shoulder popped loud enough that Erin heard it and she looked concerned. “Daddy?”, she sounded like my young daughter again.

I smiled, “I’m okay sweetie, it doesn’t hurt when it does that. Just the muscles being tight on my old man shoulders.” I rolled my eyes and she giggled before taking another draw from her glass. Her cute little shudders from her inexperience with liquor were getting smaller. I poured some of the tincture from its pour spout into my cupped hand and clapped it to the back of my neck and started massaging. Then repeated the process trying to get to as much of my shoulder as I could.

Erin set her tumbler down with a thin sliver of amber wetting the bottom, her drink almost exhausted. I pondered the way she stood, the way she looked at me. Womanly! That’s what it was, that’s what I was hearing in her voice; that’s what I was seeing in her petite form. For all of her genius and achievements with two highly skilled degrees, she had still sounded like a teenager even throughout our debauchery. “Let me do that daddy.” She stood, a little flash of discomfort crossing her pretty face. I began to protest but she cut me off, “I’m better daddy. I can do this for you.” And I deferred to my petite daughter.

I had to fight, will myself not to get an erection when she stood behind me. She leaned over me to reach the jar of medicine and her small tit pressed into the back of my head. I hoped my moan wasn’t audible but her tiny gasp, from the twinge, sent another surge into my complaining cock. I under estimated her abilities. While I admired her full muscled thighs, her softly defined abs and her athletic arms, I didn’t think about her grip. Most of her physique was carved by tennis.

I jumped as she poured a little of the liquid at the top of my neck and the chilling alcohol shocked me. But when her fingers clamped on the mastoids and her thumbs dug into the part of my trap going up the neck, there was a deep ache that radiated from her muscle boring thumbs. Then she suddenly “popped” her thumbs off and I felt a knot just drop out and a small rush of endorphins. “Holy shit Moira!” I heard her breath catch as what I said stunned her and shamed me, “Oh fuck, I’m sorry Erin… please, please forgive me.”

“Oh be quiet daddy,” her voice had that weird ‘womanly’ timbre, “It’s okay. Did mom do this to you?” I nodded with my face still lowered. “And I reminded you of her?” I nodded again, “Then I’ll take that as a compliment.” Before I could respond she squeezed again and rolled those painful thumbs up either side of my spine. She stopped and splashed arnica in her hands and reapplied it to my aching muscles.

Her fingers crawled up further like a millipede and repeated the rolling thumb treatment. She repeated this until she had covered my whole neck. Then she slid her hands down again and did one long, hard thumb roll the entire length and I felt four solid pops and a flood of endorphins, “Ahhhhhh! Oh sweetie, that’s amazing.” I let my head fall back into her chest and she bent to kiss my forehead while her hands were squeezing my traps as they swept to my shoulders.

“Did you like that daddy?” fuck yeah I liked it, “It’s what any wife should do.” I lurched forward and she pulled be back in the chair with my head back against her small body, she slid her hands from my traps and slid them down to grasp my pecs and thumb my nipples. Damned if my traitorous cock didn’t make an appearance, its head and pons extending below my leg hole. The bend was painful.

I know she noticed as her breath quickened but she coaxed me forward. She worked all of my muscles, from my neck to the small of my back and from my shoulders to my fingers. I felt jolts of deep penetrating pain as she found and pressed the knots while they rolled underneath her fingers and thumb. She was liberal with the brown healing tincture and I was at a state you could pour me out of the chair like so much milk. “Where did you learn how to do that Erin?”

I relaxed as she left my back, took our glasses and stepped over to pour more for each of us. I appreciated the anesthetic effects of the whisky and I was sure Erin relished *any* relief. I could “hear” her eye roll, “Daaaaddy, what do you think I’ve been doing for four years. My tennis, remember? You think we never needed rubdowns? I paid attention, I learned what worked.” She returned to the table and grunted slightly when she bent to set my glass in front of me. She was so close and I smelled the light scent of her tea tree oil soap and sandalwood oil. She suddenly turned her face to me and flashed a big smile before sitting down.

“Well, now I feel like I’ve had a dose of Percocet or something, mmmmm,” even the sip of whisky tasted better. But I still had a problem and twisted away from her to pull my painfully bent rod from the shorts’ leg. I tried to get it to lay sideways inside the garment but it slid upwards and emerged from my waistband. I tried a couple more times and had to give up, “Shit. I’m sorry sweetie.”

Erin gulped half of her glass, gave a little shudder and smiled. That womanly voice returned like she was channeling a woman twice her age. “Oh daddy,” she took a fake and dismissive swat at my arm, “I like that I do that to you.” She leaned forward with a small wince and slid her small hand up and down the bottom of my now dripping shaft.

“Erin,” I croaked, “Baby, you can’t. You need to heal sweetie.” She smiled wickedly and moved to slide between my legs. We had been more or less facing each other with our chairs. “OH FUCK!” She kept her eyes looking into mine as she licked the exposed three or four inches, from my waistband to my precum seeping eye.

“Mmmmmmmm,” she cooed and her fingers drew my waist band out and down under my balls, “I’m better daddy and there’s more I can do than just fuck my father.” Even with everything that’s happened the last couple of days, hearing profanities from my daughter’s mouth belied her youthful and innocent face. I grunted as I felt a twitch over the entire length of my towering hard on and felt a bulge travel through my urethra to be spat over my daughter’s tongue.

My head fell back and my eyes closed, “Holy shit Erin, what you do to me.” She swirled her tongue coating the bulbous head with a mix of saliva and my latest deposit of precum. She slipped off my throbbing dick and looked up with lidded eyes, her full and glossy lips parted with a a milky drop of spittle and precum hanging from her lower lip. I watched her as she licked some of the gloss and that large drop slid down her chin and then landed on her cotton night shirt, right between her breasts.

Erin bent my raging cock down and started really working her head up and down the first third of it, occasionally hitting her tonsils and gagging. I resisted the urge to fuck her face and just massaged her shoulders as she noisily slurped and slobbered all over my thickness. My balls were soaked and lines of drool ran from the corners of her mouth. Lurid strands of precum and spit hung from her chin and jaw line, constantly breaking free to soak her cotton covered tits. Some slung from her rapid ministrations to splatter on her sexy thighs. I knew I looked like a dumbass with my mouth hanging open while I panted and grunted. I found it hard to believe she learned all of this from a dildo that had been in my sister’s cunt and who knows where else.

I had felt guilty about getting erect in front of my wounded daughter but that was gone, replaced with selfish lust. I felt the first pangs of my prostate throbbing, “Erin honey,” my mouth was dry and I was raspy, “Baby, I’m… UNGH!… I’m going to cum baby.” And that little minx hummed with her tongue pressed into the glans. It shot through my dick like an electric shock and I felt a single splurge of my cum shoot into her tiny mouth. It caught her by surprise and she coughed, splattering my pubic hair and smearing her lips. “Ahhhhh shiiiiit!” And my cum came in torrents.

Had I been standing I would have collapsed. My entire body became uncoordinated from the sheer intensity of my lurching, spewing erection and her deft handling of my flowing cum. Then she surprised me. She pulled her mouth off mid stream with a slurp and let ropes of my thick semen lash her face, soak her hair and then pour onto her neck and chest. A weird, almost disembodied laugh emanated from her grinning face as she directed the spewing tip to cover different areas on her face, forehead and neck. Her night shirt became virtually transparent with the thick viscous slime and it was glued to her firm little tits. The sheer obscenity caused another latent ropes to spurt out and land between her eyes to lay down along her nose, lips and finally hang threateningly from her chin.

As my cum slowed to a dribble which my daughter dutifully milked onto her outstretched tongue, I fell back against my chair to catch my breath. Erin was slowly stroking my shaft that had begun to bend as the blood started to move again. She had a dreamy expression as she pondered the softening organ. The depraved and perverted scene, my petite daughter on her knees, her face covered and her night shirt ruined with a massive cum that exceeded any concept I had of my cumming that much.

I reached for my napkin and she shook her head rapidly, that dangling drip from her chin swinging in comic obscenity. “No daddy, I want to wear it, this is my makeup for the day,” and she giggled.

“Oh sweetie, you didn’t have to do that,” I said even as I was reaching for my phone to take a picture of this debauched petite daughter of mine. It would be a picture that inspired many masturbation sessions in the future. She still had her hand stroking my heavily hanging cock, her fingers finally able to meet. She saw me point the phones camera, looked up with the sultriest expression I’ve ever seen and the cum smeared across those beautiful features. She smiled slightly and rested the glossy head of my dick on her lower lip and looked up at me for the photo.

She licked a seeping drip from the eye, causing me to jump and curled her pointed tongue back into her small mouth before smiling wide. “Do I look like a whore daddy?” I was shocked. I know, I had called her some vile things in the throes of ripping ver virginity from her. Those mostly came from displaced anger at myself. It was violative and I wanted to “teach” her the consequences of her flirtations. That was the lie I told myself. I know now that I was sating my pent up anger and lust and she was the small target that took it all.

I shook my head and told her she didn’t look like a whore, I lied, but was an erotic dream in the flesh. She smiled sweetly, “It’s okay daddy. It’s okay to admit that I look like a whore,” the little witch emphasized her words with a quick stab of my dicks eye with her tongue, “I want to be a good wife,” there it was again, the ‘W word. “I WANT to be yours whenever, wherever my husband wants me. I want to be my husband’s whore, my daddy’s whore.” Good grief, Freud would have a field day with this mess. “Please daddy? I did make you all better, right?”

Her voice suddenly had become juvenile again and I smiled down at my debased daughter to stroke her sticky hair. “Better,” I agreed.

BEE STING NIPPLES

Erin had moved into my master bedroom, she was there every night anyway. Its Spartan decor had started to show decidedly feminine touches. The marks I had made on her throat had faded but were still apparent. The mark I’d left on one tit was almost completely healed. I was content having her warmth next to me in bed and I was happy not to fuck her or demand anything from her. But she kept me drained of cum with her oral ministrations and even sliding her nude pussy lips along the underside of my shaft as she straddled me. I woke up more than once with my cum either being swallowed or painting her nude torso, tits and pussy.

I sensed that my little girl was feeling neglected though. Over the last few days, I could bring her some satisfaction by sawing my finger through her slit and circling her clit. If I tried to insert my finger though, something she had asked for, but it hurt her. So despite my constant state of arousal whenever I was next to Erin, I knew she wasn’t ready to accept me into her body. She wanted to, she made that much clear but she was also self aware enough to agree with “alternative” sexual release.

It had been a week and she just now allowed me to go down on her without panicking and stopping me. Whenever her cunt started to pulse from arousal, pain came too. On this one, I spent a long time licking and sucking her tiny nipples. They were small but they were hyper sensitive and she jumped like she’d been electrocuted and she held my head to her chest with her fist twisted in my hair… painfully. She came hard when the finger I had been sliding through her slippery sex started thumping her engorged clit. When I kissed my way down, her sweet gasps and sighs playing in my ears; I was stopped when I first stuck my tongue out and began laving her clitoris. “No, no, no daddy! I’m too sensitive. Please just lay with me.”

I slid up along her perspiring body and laid my damnable cock, erect, between us. I was pressed against her hip to almost her ribs. I slung the one heavy leg over hers and propped up on an elbow. I could absent mindedly trace lines around her firm tits and nipples while watching her pretty face and talking. She watched as we spent a few minutes in silence while I reveled in the pale tiny nipples. They were enthralling. “Do you like them daddy?” I looked at her like she was crazy even wondering. “It’s just that they are so small.”

I leaned over and caused her to gasp with a quick lick and suckling of the nipple closest to me. “They’re so delectable sweetie,” I watched the darkened nipple fade. “They’re so perfect, young and untouched little bee sting nipples.” I made a gross slurping sound as I licked my lips and was rewarded with a cute giggle from my naked daughter.

The irony of that conversation was demonstrated in the morning. I was down at the hot house and looked out over the meadow, saw the summer flowers and the bees dancing around like little golden lights in the sunlight. It dawned on me that I hadn’t cracked a hive in over a year and I had no idea what kind of shape they were in. I mean they were obviously still thriving based on the traffic coming in and out of the boxes.

I hopped on the golf cart and trundled up the path to the house. I grabbed my safety goggles, veils and chunked the bee suit in the cart. Just in case. Erin came bouncing in to the garage. She was wearing an AeroPostale t-shirt that showed off her defined midriff and her satin running shorts clung to her athletic ass. She ran to me and hugged me. Those exquisite firm tits pressed into my sweaty t-shirt and I shuddered. She smelled of sandalwood and tea tree oil, a hint of honey was tasted when she kissed me. Her lips were glossy I guessed with the propolis lip balm her mom used to make. “Where ya going daddy?”

“I realized today I hadn’t cared for the bees since, shit, months before your mom died. I need to make sure they’re okay, no mites, hive beetles… you know, just see how they’re doing.” I packed my box with the hive tools, frame hangers and smoker.

“Can I come with you daddy? I’d like to see in the hives. You never taught me before.” She put on her little girl big eyes as if there was any chance I could refuse her anything.

I went back to the locker and pulled her mom’s old suit out. “Just in case,” I mentioned when her eyes got a little wider, “We’ll probably not need it. Our hives were always pretty chill, unless they’ve re-queened. I mean with a real bitch.” I laughed at myself and Erin simply smiled. She jumped in and we coasted down to the meadow.

I was wearing denim shorts, a t-shirt which I tucked in… mainly because I’ve done this before. I felt pretty good as I approached the first hive. The porch was busy with the comings and goings and even this late in the Summer, they were still coming in with their bags full. I set down the tool box and loaded pine needles in the smoker and got a nice cool smoke going. I started out with a couple of puffs into the hive and then cracked the hive. Once I got the inner cover off, the airspace got pretty busy.

I had Erin standing back, with her own safety glasses. She walked around in the sun, looking from different angles. My sweat started to get some attention and I had several of the ladies in my beard and on my arm as I worked the first frame loose and lifted it from the top super. It was heavy with honey. I saw Erin getting nervous with the cloud of bees I was in but their sound was passive. I could actually feel my blood pressure drop.

When she started approaching so she could watch me sugar roll a cup’s worth of bees to check for mites. A bee flew at her and landed in her hair. My daughter squealed and I had to look at her and tell her not to panic and swat at bees, or she would get stung. My inattention to what I was doing got me popped on a knuckle. I flicked the mortally wounded bee off and pulled the stinger. “I’m sorry daddy, I didn’t mean to cause that.”

I smiled but turned around to pay attention as I dumped the powdered white bees back into their box. They were negative for mites and I didn’t see any sign of hive beetles. I put the hive back having looked at all the frames, cleaning the burr comb and cutting out some swarm cells. Then I went to the next one and was equally pleased. Lots of honey, lots of bee bread, lots of brood and LOTS of bees. The hives were in shade by the time I got to the fourth hive since the afternoon shadows from the tree line lengthened.

Erin had become more comfortable. She still flinched when a bee came and checked her out, landing on a bare arm, midriff and occasionally on her lip. She would shoo them away when they landed on her lip. I should have thought about her choice of lip balm when I tasted it. I was just replacing the outer cover when I saw her jump back, squeal and clamp a hand over her right tit. “Ooooooowwww! Daddy!” And then, “Aaaaahhhh!” when the one that picked that very moment to land on her lower lip stung her. Whether from when she screamed, from whatever happened first or from the panicked flailing I didn’t know.

She was panicking and flailing so I grabbed her and pushed her away from the hives. Once I got her back into the sunlight, she melted my heart. She was crying and looking to me to help her as her lip became cartoonishly large. “Close your eyes honey,” she complied so I tilted her head back so I could pinch the throbbing stinger from her lip.

Erin cried out again and bent forward pulling her t-shirt away from her chest as she danced around and fanned her shirt, “It burns daddy, please, it burns!” I lifted her shirt, exposing her chest to the sun and saw a bee, spinning on her nipple trying to detach. I pulled the bee off and tried to get the stinger. I’d need tweezers as she had been stung dead center and that stinger was pulling itself into a duct as the reddened nipple swelled around it. A small trickle of blood oozed from the injured nipple and I loaded her in the cart and headed for the house.

I got her in the master bathroom and she saw herself in the mirror and actually laughed. It sounded a little pitiful. She was scared to touch the swollen nipple but she stroked her lip. “There are women who pay doctors good money for that look,” I joked. Erin just groaned and turned so I could hike her onto the vanity.

She sobbed when I pinched the swollen nipple to expose the still pumping venom sack. I used my needle point tweezers and got a purchase by pushing past the sack to get the hair like stinger. She was clamped onto my arms as I negotiated the surgery and yelped when I finally pulled the offending thing that had been digging its way into her. “Oh fuck daddy. That really hurts,” then she paused as she looked down on the swollen and ruddy nipple, “Look daddy, Its a real bee sting nipple.” She giggled at her self and then looked as serious as she could, “Kiss it and make it better daddy?”

I held up a finger, reached behind her to the medicine cabinet and duped a couple Benadryl caplets into her hand; which she obediently swallowed. Her eyes went wide and her mouth formed an ‘O’ when I bent to suckle at the injured nipple. She yelped, whimpered and then moaned as she held my head to her breast. Her entire upper half was writhing and she pulled me tighter still. I finally took her wrists and freed myself to lift up; but not before a quick suctioning kiss to her other nipple. “Oh daddy, that felt weird.”

“How so,” I offered her shirt to her and she shook her head. I’d have to spend the next several hours looking at my topless daughter. Somehow, I just couldn’t feel sorry for myself.

“It hurt daddy, but it tingled. It made me wet, I can feel it.” She stroked my upper arms as I took her by her small waist to help her hop down from the counter. “Too bad it doesn’t match the other one,” she said under her breath and I almost choked when my sudden inhalation sucked spittle into my windpipe.

“Can you walk?” My topless Erin nodded and we headed for the den. “Let me get us some drinks, you relax and let me know if you need more Benadryl.” The degenerate ideas that were floating around my head were dark. But as I handed her the drink, she sipped it with a kind of sad expression and her arm was held across her tits. I turned on the TV and sat down with her. She laid her head on your shoulder and went to sleep.

She sighed when I laid her down in bed but she hadn’t even woken up the entire time. I kissed her forehead before heading back out, grabbing the whisky and stripping on my way to the hot tub. It would be a night of drunken masturbation and I didn’t care whose face I’d see.

BUT I LIKE IT DADDY

I had been dreaming of Moira’s lavishing my cock with licks and suckling before she swung her leg over my pelvis and seated the head of my saliva dripping cock. It felt so real as she gyrated on my erection and worked the head into her dripping cunt. It was the muffled scream as she dropped her weight onto my angry hard-on and crushed her cervix against the unforgiving phallus. I came to my senses as the sobbing laughter made its way into my dream. It was Erin.

My small, naked daughter had decided it was time and she was driving me insane as she gyrated with my dick painfully bent against the barrier. The bulge in her tummy rolled across with each twisting grind. She was working her clit as she rose a few inches only to crash back down for me to displace her uterus over and over. It was her persistent grinding and constant self impaling that finally resulted in the feeling of someone snapping a rubber band behind the head of my invading monster.

“Oh fuck!” She hissed before her sobbing laugh and her grinning down at me. The look in her eyes was almost disturbing with their burning lust so apparent, “Yesssss daddy,” she rasped through clenched teeth, “Fuck your wife’s womb. Put our child in me.” She was like a maniac as she plowed herself on my throbbing shaft.

Her words were like a slap in the face and the realization of the dangers inherent in fucking your own daughter unprotected came rushing in. For a moment, that’s all I could think about. My depravity and lust had blinded me to the risks. A chill ran through me when it occurred to me I may have already inseminated my own flesh and blood, my daughter. I twisted out from under her and threw her onto her back with a grunt I plowed back into her squirming core and was stopped only a moment before her muscular cervix yielded and my pelvis smashed into hers.

The strangling tightness was almost painful yet I was driven to smash into her repeatedly as she thrashed and sobbed. I was straight up using Erin, fucking her to release my pent up lust. So I was surprised when I plowed through her womb’s opening and into her uterus and she thrust her hips up, clamped my hips between her powerful thighs and shuddered through a loud climax. It’s amazing what happens to a man once he crosses that ultimate line of fucking his own child.

I laid into Erin’s convulsing body and pinned her wrists over her head, her huffs and puffs warm on my chest as I did my best to push her uterus up into her guts. She was openly crying now but still fucking back as I all but raped her small body and constricting cunt. I became cruel, twisting and stretching her as I repeatedly beat her cervix into complete submission, “Fuck… fuck you cunt, take your daddy’s dick! You want to replace your mother you whore?” I had no idea why I derided the girl I loved so much. Whatever was broken in me when I first allowed myself to lay with my own child had reduced her crying and writhing body to my cum dump. I was using her.

A flash of the dangers from fucking her tiny pussy without any protection came to mind again. Rather than pulling out which was the only smart thing possible in this completely asinine situation; I drove hard into her in one last and violent thrust and held tight against her. My cock throbbed painfully until the pressure built enough to force my cum through and into her womb. It felt like passing needles with the choking cervix pinching off my urethra. I pulled back against the entrapping uterine mouth and as Erin raised her pelvis to ease the hurt, I yanked roughly from her as she screamed and then sobbed. I remained about a third of the way in, just to inject more cum into her vagina. Then pulled free to spill more ropes on her pulsating cunt lips, clit and belly.

I rolled off of her petite and sweating body and fell onto my back. Erin groaned and rolled to her side, swinging a leg over mine and leaving her violated pussy to leak onto my thigh. I looked at her, the tracks of her tears still visible. She had to be hating me at this point. I had just taken her with no regard for her pleasure or safety. She rubbed her wrists before sliding one across my chest and the other under my neck. She was still being racked with small sobs and I felt actual regret for hurting her, “I’m so sorry baby, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know why I said those things… I…” she silenced me with a kiss.

When she pulled back, a thin smile eased her serious expression, “I do want to be mom for you, I want to be everything for you she was. And I want you to be everything to me you were for her.”

The arm under her head moved so I could rub her sweaty back, “I hurt you baby. I put you at risk… I’m not careful and the worst part is I didn’t care.”

“But I liked it daddy, I came just from being fucked by my own daddy.” She dropped her head back and laughed while covering her face, like she couldn’t believe the surreal and obscene incestuous coupling. A coupling we were spiraling deeper into. I couldn’t believe it either.

IT TURNS ME ON DADDY

I hadn’t even noticed but some very fine blond hairs had started to emerge around her slit, legs and underarms. She had been bruised again so it had been a few days but she was recovering much faster this time. I feared that when the “afterglow” faded she’d come to resent me. I needn’t have worried. She was like a shadow, always there, always close. Her affectionate clinging almost crossed into obsession.

We had been working in the office when Erin sighed and rubbed her thigh under the hem of her sundress. “Dad? That face to face interview is tomorrow, right?” I nodded without looking up from the VHEMP report on a facility that we were evaluating for a VIP appearance. Erin had gotten her secret clearance pretty readily, but the evaluation for her top secret clearance required a need of access examination and an in person interview. “Daddy, are we close enough I can go clean up and wax?”

I felt a twitch envisioning her smooth sex and legs. The fact I hadn’t noticed what worried her was beside the point, “Of course sweetie. Holler if you need any help,” I laughed at my own lame joke. I had to rub my thickening cock through my slacks thinking about it. I had no idea I was about to see what my mind’s eye had imagined in person.

I reached a stopping point and went into the master bedroom to change. I could hear her in the shower and I thought briefly about stripping and going in to enjoy her. But in a rare moment of fatherly compassion, I let her have her privacy. I closed the dresser drawer a little harder than I needed to and the water went silent, “Daddy? Are you out there?”

“Yes baby, I’m just changing.” I waited a second to see if she would say anything and then started to walk out.

“Daddy?” I could hear her shuffling around and figured she was drying off, “Can I have a drink? Please?”

“You okay sweetie? It’s a little early for either of us,” the sincerity was real. She was still below drinking age which I found ridiculous. She could vote, enter contracts, marry without parents’ consent. She was an adult in every way except being allowed to drink. Yet it was early.

“Yes daddy, it’s just…” I had stopped outside the partially opened bathroom door, “It’s just that I hadn’t waxed in a long time. It will help me relax. Please daddy?

“Oh, yeah, okay sweetie, no problem. I’ll be right back.” And I went to pour us both a heavy glass of whisky and returned with those and the bottle.

The sight was enticing. Erin had spread out a towel on the bed and she wore another, and was halfway through powdering her legs with corn starch. There was a bowl of a gooey concoction that was mostly beeswax with some sugar mixed in I think. It sat on a small stand with a small alcohol lamp underneath it. My enticing daughter paused to accept the glass and took a long swallow before she sat it down and dipped a tongue depressor into the sticky mess and smeared a liberal coating on her toes before applying a paper strip. Then she yanked it off like a bandaid with a grimace and a hiss. She did the other foot and then stopped to pick up her drink, “It’s always more painful and scary if you haven’t done it in a while.” She took another hefty swallow before smiling and starting on her flexing calf.

“I wouldn’t know,” my affect was flat but she giggled. As she worked her way up higher on her legs and started on the inside of her thighs, I felt my cock threatening to come out of my running shorts. Her sudden sucking of air through clenched teeth, the occasional whimper and the way her legs writhed from each tearing strip was turning me on. The pink and even red stripes left from each tear were reminders of her self inflicted torture. “I think I’ll go while you, um, you know,” nodding toward her sex peeking out from the towel that had ridden up to her hips.

“Please daddy, I’m about to do my under arms. It’s hard to do one handed, will you help?” My mouth was dry and there was a perverse thrill at the thought of ripping those fine hairs from her skin. I wanted to see that pain cross her features again.. at my hand.

“Are you sure sweetie? I really have no idea what I’m doing.” She nodded enthusiastically so I slid up to where I was beside her torso.

“That’s okay daddy, it’s simple. I’ll talk you through it.” I felt my heart rate climb as she coached me through smearing the stringy goo under her arms and applying the wide strip to the cooling paste. I gained purchase on a corner and gave a tentative tug, “Ow!” I jerked my hand back and she sighed, “You have to rip it off, like a band-aid.” Then she raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists. I met her eyes, a question on my lips, “Sometimes, I like to feel like I’m being tied down.” I shook the shock from my head and went back to the task at hand. This time I pulled it off in one quick jerk, “Unngh! Yes daddy, that’s good.” She smiled and nodded. I repeated the process under her other arm and thrilled with the arching of her back. The side to side twisting of her arms over her head like she was trying her imaginary bonds and that caused another surge of blood to my bothersome dick.

I started to get up when she grabbed a wrist. I turned back to her questioningly to see her slowly opening the towel she was wearing. “Don’t go daddy. This next part scares me. I have done it on my own but it’s always easier to have help. Aunt Connie and I helped each other,” she looked away and smiled, “Neither of us are very brave I guess.” Holy shit, she was asking me to rip the hairs from her diminutive sex! And she had reminded me what my sister’s corruption had done to my daughter. I sucked down what was left in my glass, poured more and sucked half of that down.

She had taken more whisky in as well and returned her arms over her head like before. Her golden thighs, pink from the insult of waxing, spread and she flexed her thighs, calves and pointed her toes as if held by more unseen bonds. Her breathing quickened and she looked at me through lidded eyes. Her moist lips were parted slightly as she took deep breaths in anticipation. She didn’t explain and I didn’t know how this worked so I plastered her pubic mound with some getting into her slit and impinging on her clit. The hot goo caused her to gasp and she involuntarily thrust her cunt off of the bed. Ignorantly, I plastered her vulva and between her crack to her anus like she’d said. “What’s first honey?”

“It doesn’t matter daddy, you’ve smeared it on everything all at once.” I felt dumb but she braced herself and I placed a narrow strip from her lower slit to her anus. I could feel her trembling through the bed as she lifted her pelvis and I gained purchase on the strip between her ass cheeks. “OH FUCK! OW!” Her pelvis jerked for several seconds as her legs strained against their imaginary restraints. She had started to pull her hands down but stopped herself. A tear slipped from her right eye and her lower lip quivered, “I.. I think you put it on too thick daddy.” She sniffled and then whispered, “I’m ready daddy.” I offered her the corner of her towel and she opened her mouth to accept it as I stuffed the material between her full and shining lips.

Because of my blundered application, the strips tore unevenly leaving amorphous patches of red. Her screams were muffled around the towel as her hips jerked and thrashed around. She was nearly hyperventilating through her nostrils and screamed again, more loudly as the next strip welted her delicate skin. That last one had also torn at her clit too and she dropped her hips and sobbed. “Baby, I don’t think I can..”

“Shut up!” her words were muffled by the gag but clear enough, “You can’t leave me like this you selfish bastard.” It took four or five more tries to remove the sloppy mass of stiffened wax. I found myself wincing in sympathy as I reluctantly continued. When I finished she lay there, tears still wet on her face and she was sighing as her breathing slowed. I looked in fascination at the angry redness contrasting against her pale white tan lines. I gently placed a hand on her pussy and she lurched before sighing again. The wetness that met my touch was immense and I lifted a glossy finger and sucked it clean. I looked at her with a look of complete curiosity. “I told you, it turns me on daddy. You can fuck me if you want.” I did want.

Afterward, I sat astride my daughter’s thighs. Erin’s cunt was red and swollen from both my botched waxing and fucking her again. Her body twitched with my casual strumming of her sensitive nipples. As my cock slowly shrank it left its remnants of cum on her lower tummy and pubic mound and her face was relaxed but still glistened with sweat and was ruddy. My young daughter was still almost painfully tight but now she was insisting on being completely opened.

She actually had begged me to fuck her uterus despite the agony of my forcing her cervix opening and she acted like she came. I lowered one hand and slid my thumb through her cum soaked slit and stroked her clit. She convulsed and sucked air through clenched teeth, “It’s too sensitive daddy, it hurts.” She had struggled not to snap and I smiled at her before relenting and leaning down to kiss her. Once I resumed working her tits and nipples she cocked her head watching my admiring gaze. “Daddy, remember when I got stung?”

I chuckled and then apologized at her pout. “Yes sweetie, that was pretty painful I suspect.” She nodded.

“It reeeaaally hurt daddy,” she sighed deeply and began to rub my forearms as I caressed her girlish tits, “It hurt when you sucked on it too. But it felt good too.” She averted her eyes and I saw a renewed blush which was adorable; especially given the absurd situation of a naked father towering over his equally naked and petite daughter. She turned back to face me, “I liked the way it looked, I’d like my nipples to look like that again.”

I rolled between her legs again, pushed her thighs apart and buried into her womb all in one move. Her screams and subsequent whimperings were erotic music to my ears. There was no foreplay, no tenderness; just a completely self serving rape until I flooded her with my seed. I crushed her when I collapsed on top of her listless form. Her groans of discomfort forced my cock to twitch and send more dribbles of semen deep inside. When I finally rolled off of her and onto my back, she curled up on my side and rested her head on my chest. “Did I turn you on daddy?” She giggled and then moaned. “Do you like raping your little girl, your wife?” Now she was just being nasty. “It turns ME on.,” we slept.

IS THERE ANYTHING MORE WRONG THAN FUCKING YOUR OWN CHILD?

There are many taboos when it comes to sex and who you do it with. Incest is the biggest with the fucking of your own child being penultimate. Once you cross that line things like fidelity are pretty minor by comparison. I had flown us to the regional, letting Erin control the plane a little which made her beam. Sherry had just flown back in from an overnight and she came over to talk before Erin’s ride showed up. She looked great with her subtle makeup, hair coming undone from her low bun and needing to be swept from her face. That was particularly sexy to me. She immediately gave me a kiss on the cheek that made Erin raise a single eyebrow and bite the corner of her lip.

When the staff car pulled up and the driver’s ID checked out, Erin jumped up with a hug to my neck and kissed me on the lips. It was chaste but enthusiastic. Erin did a good job of hiding her latent difficulty walking but Sherry noticed it. “Boyfriend?”

“What?!?” I was shaken from my focus on my daughter’s sexy form.

“She have a boyfriend?” Sherry looked at me with that “where were you?” look.

“In a manner of fashion,” I grumbled. I looked at her with annoyed calmness.

“Oh,” Sherry paused to watch Erin drive off, “Not thrilled with that one, are you?” I shook my head. Sherry perked up, “Let’s get breakfast. My treat.” I smiled and we hit the cafe. After we dined, we were drinking coffee and catching up when I noticed her white uniform blouse looked like a couple of buttons had been undone. I hadn’t noticed when or if she had unbuttoned, but her magnificent cleavage straining inside the lacy cups of her bra made me begin to swell. “I’ve got some paperwork to do, keep me company?”

Once in the FBO, sherry completed her logs, filled out her squawk sheets and slid back from her desk within ten minutes. “Now what? It’ll be another three hours before I get Erin back.” It was coming up on noon, and she suggested we get a drink. But rather than suggesting a bar or restaurant she led e back to her layover apartment in the back of their hangar. It was nicely appointed and cozy with a love seat, dinette table and chairs with a kitchenette. There was a Murphy bed that could be dropped if she needed to rest between flights. Sherry produced a bottle of expensive scotch and a couple of tumblers. “Uh, liquor for your next flight? Pretty cozy place for a relief rack.”

Sherry laughed, “There are times when we’re so busy flying in fishermen and hunters that I live here. So it has to be comfortable. Plus I don’t have anything left today so shut up and drink with me.”

“Just one, I still have to fly Sherry and I home. You still have to drive home too.” With a smile, Sherry poured a couple of ounces for each of us.

“Make it last then,” she handed me my glass and looked around the room and smiled again, “I don’t have to do anything. No one is waiting for me.” She sat next to me on the love seat, kicked off her shoes and then laid her legs across my lap with her back against the arm. “Oh, that feels so much better?” Sherry slid her legs back and forth against each other as she settled deeper into her seat. The agonizing torment she was laying onto my crotch was maddening. I looked at her stockinged feet and decided to massage them, “Oh my god, that’s so nice!” And she took a long slow draught from her glass.

I smiled at her while I rubbed her tired feet deeply before working her calves through her slacks. Her moaning and sighs drove blood to my painfully restrained cock and its thickening shaft crept down the leg of my jeans. Sherry’s face was pure bliss, “You want me to do your neck?” She jumped up, almost spilling her drink before sitting at my feet, between my knees.

She pulled her hair clip out and her low bun unwound into a shiny river of hair that ran down her back. She pulled her hair around and draped it over her left shoulder. I started by digging my thumbs into the back of her neck and rolling them up either side of her spine. “Ahhhh shit lover!” She was loud enough to make me glance at the door to make sure we weren’t going to be interrupted. She had her head tilted forward to give me access and I leaned forward to adjust myself closer to the edge of the love seat. I looked down and saw the pale tops of her tits and a completely unbuttoned blouse. When had she done that? I paused and she whimpered before tilting her head back into my lap, “Oh! I see,” she had obviously felt my aching hard on. She twisted her head and kissed the crown of my cock that was outlined under the denim.

“I’m sorry Sherry,” I was suddenly aware of the potential for cheating on my daughter. The absurdity of holding out that as something worse than fucking her in the first place wasn’t lost on me. “I think I need to go,” and I started to push up and out of the love seat before Sherry pushed against my abdomen and sat me back down. She began unfastening my belt and jeans, “No strings, remember? I haven’t had any since New Year’s. And I don’t think you have either.”

She had started to pull my jeans and underwear down and I lifted my hips to allow it. My massive cock sprung free and slapped Sherry in the face. She was surprised but laughed it off before wrapping a hand around the base and leaning in to suck the top third of my cock into her straining mouth. Her blouse hung off of her arms. Her free hand slid her shoulder straps off and she pushed the tops of her cups off of her nipples. The tight garment split her tits obscenely below the aureolas and her nipples stiffened. “Ahhh shit Sherry!” Her blow job was electric and when she pushed past her gagging to take half of my strangled shaft into her throat, I lost it. Sherry choked and a fair amount of cum squirted past the corners of her lips and some dripped onto her right tit. But she pushed it back into her throat and swallowed the rest. Sherry’s esophagus undulating along my shaft as she swallowed made me spill more into her gullet than I thought possible.

She slipped off of my shaft with a slurp and a kiss. “That’s better lover, now it’s my turn.” With that she stood and slipped her slacks off, leaving her matching panties in place. She climbed over my lap and pointed my semi hard shaft at her opening, “I’m so wet honey, fuck me unconscious.” She started to gyrate and force my painfully bent shaft inward. Once her cunt’s opening yielded, she cursed as about two thirds of my shaft plowed into her. Her rubbery cervix pressed against my tip, its opening “mouthing” the eye. Sherry started undulating her pelvis and pressed harder as the renewed erection stretched her vagina. “All the way in baby,” she hissed and relentlessly ground her cervix against my dick until it too yielded with a snap. Her pelvis crashed down on my lap and she cried out with a sobbing laugh. “Yesssss, that’s it lover.”

Sherry started to rise and fall on my dick, deep fucking her womb over and over until I felt my balls tighten. “Sherry honey,” I panted, “I’m sorry but I’m going to cum. Let me pull out.”

She simply redoubled her efforts adding a slow grind at the end of each stroke, swabbing her uterine walls with my precum dripping cock. She just shook her head as she dropped it back with an open mouth. Then she looked down at me and grimaced before she tightened her cunt and went rigid. Sherry was chanting, “Fuck me, cum in me,” over and over as her milking cunt brought my own cum on and I felt the first burning ropes splash into her womb and then her vagina as she continued her fucking. Cum leaked out around the tight seal as she settled onto my lap and held me deep inside of her to trap what was left in her unprotected womb. The seeping goo slid down and soaked my balls before staining the cushion under my ass.

“Oh fuck Sherry, that was intense. But that was dangerous. I…” I stopped myself before I said anything else stupid.

“Why? It’s not like I’m married or anything. And I feel like a woman for the first time in months. And it’s not like you are involved.” I swallowed hard but kept my mouth shut. She picked up on my trepidation, “Oh. I didn’t know. I never see you with anyone but Erin so I just assumed…” she stopped mid-sentence, “Oh shit!” I was afraid of what she had thought of. I expected her to jump up, kick me in the nuts and then call the police. But Sherry didn’t say another word. Instead she leaned forward, laid her head on my shoulder with those magnificent tits pressed into my chest. I could swear I felt her cunt squeeze my softening shaft.

She stroked my hair with her hand and leaned up for a remarkably chaste kiss, especially considering what had just transpired between us. We talked some, mostly about our respective spouses and how her husband had left her for the stereotypical younger woman and they had disappeared. At least she got everything and made a good living as a regional pilot.

Our conversation was probably the most intimate we had to this point. Talking about our past lives and loves, what we’d done and how we ended up where we were. She finally had pulled free of my sated cock but remained straddling me, cum dripping onto my hanging dick and balls. When she finally slid off of my lap and settled next to me, her scum soaked panties further staining the cushion. I shook my head in bemusement on how THAT would be explained. I lifted my hips and pulled my jeans up, stuffing my tender junk into the tight denim. I leaned forward and picked up my glass, “A little more?”

We still had at least an hour and a half before Erin would be brought back. Sherry poured another couple of fingers’ worth and gave herself the same. She leaned back and smiled with her head over the back of the love seat. “Tell me about her.”

My whisky caught in my throat, I struggled and finally managed to swallow. “Who?”

“Your girl Er.. I mean the girl you’re seeing.” She had lolled her head to the side and was looking at me with serene curiosity.

“I uh, well it’s complicated,” Sherry giggled silently at my awkwardness. Did she know? “I mean it’s not like we’re married. I don’t think she’d appreciate all of this though.” I felt a twinge of guilt as I considered Erin’s calling herself my wife and how this would fuck her up even more. I changed the subject as I pulled Sherry to my side so that she could lean against me. “Uh Sherry, I uh… well, have you ever had a lover you didn’t mean to have?” She looked up questioningly, “I mean have you slept with anybody you didn’t mean to? Maybe someone you weren’t ‘supposed’ to?”

Sherry took another drink and looked down like she was ashamed. “You’ll hate me.” I shook my head and squeezed her hand, “When my husband left us and disappeared with that teenager, I couldn’t stand it. I drank so much and I cried every night,” Sherry sniffled with the memory, “I was by myself, all alone.”

“I’m so sorry Sherry. I mean, I kind of know what that’s like.” She stopped and looked at me scared, like she’d hurt me with the reminder of Moira’s death. “It’s okay, Sherry. Please go on. I want to know how you dealt with it.”

She took another solid swig, “I, uh, well my… I took a leave of absence from the company, I really didn’t care if I ever woke up.” Tears were streaming but she never took her eyes off of me, “My oldest son wasn’t married yet and he came by to check on me since they hadn’t heard from me and the company told him I was taking time off.” I swallowed hard, was this going where I thought it was? “The house was a mess, I hadn’t bathed or changed in a week… I was dead inside.”

I cupped the side of her face and kissed her tears, “Sherry, I know what you mean. I was ready to die but knew I couldn’t because of Erin. I had no idea how I was going to survive Moira’s loss and even having my only daughter gone.” She nodded and turned her lips to kiss the palm of my hand.

“My son came in calling out for me, I was too far down to even acknowledge him.” She chugged the remaining whisky in her glass. “Kevin was horrified. He left me, drew a bath and then came to get me. He knew I wouldn’t be able to stand so he carried me, sweet boy, and lowered me into the bath, shorts tank top and all. Then he closed his eyes to pull off my top and shorts, and he apologized to me! I was the one ashamed. The bath felt good and after a while, I was awake enough to shave.”

She went to pour more whisky but I stopped her. “Wait here sweetie, I’ll make a cup.” It didn’t take long, her well equipped crash pad had a commercial Keurig and as she wrapped her hands around the warm cup, she smiled and patted the cushion next to her.

“When I climbed out of the tub, I was pretty weak and could barely put a short robe on. When I made my way back out, the living room had been picked up and the kitchen was all clean except that Kevin was still rinsing and loading dishes. He dried his hands and came to me. He hugged me so tightly I just collapsed into his arms and bawled.” She closed her eyes for a minute and I felt that this was headed straight for familiar territory. “Kevin picked me up, I felt so safe, and he carried me back to my bedroom. He had lit candles, propped up my pillows and turned back the bed spread. When he put me down my… this is so embarrassing, my robe opened so he turned away. I pulled it all closed and apologized. He had made me a nighttime tea like valerian and rose hips and I know I started to cry again. He kissed me on the forehead, so tenderly and told me good night.” Sherry blew over her cup and took a sip, “I begged him to stay with me,” she was crying again, “and then… he stretched out next to me, in his clothes and on top of the covers. That’s why I don’t know how it… I mean… Oh David, you are going to hate me.”

I smiled and took Sherry’s hand, “Shhhhh. I think I know where this is going and I most certainly don’t hate you.” I kissed her hands to emphasize my point, “And you certainly don’t have to tell me.”

Sherry smiled and nodded, “I think I need to tell you. I don’t know why.” She took a deep breath, “Kevin had pulled my sheet up so it was above my bust line. He sat and let me talk, yell and cry about my last several months. He listened patiently when I cried over the sudden loneliness. But then he’d give me some encouragement or praise to stop my spiraling. I figured he’d leave when I fell asleep but I guess he did too.” Her voice was picking up a quivering cadence, “I remember dreaming about my husband and our newlywed years, he was a passionate lover. I guess I started reacting to the dream and was grinding on my son’s leg and I slowly realized I had kicked my sheet off. My hand was on his groin and he had an erection! I can’t believe what I was doing and started crying and apologizing. He woke up and asked ‘mom?’ And he was over me and waking me up and telling me I was having a nightmare.”

Sherry stopped and I wondered whether she had said enough. I actually laughed at the relief, “So you had a wet dream after months of neglect and you were unconscious of your son being there. That’s pretty mild and not what I figured I’d be hearing.” I kissed her hands again but saw worry in her eyes.

“Tha… thank you David, but I’m horrible,” A new tear started down her face, “I didn’t care that my robe had come open again and he wasn’t looking away. So I pulled him down to me and kissed him. He resisted for a second but kissed me back after that. He slid his hand over my breast and slid the robe all the way open. I begged him to make love to me and all he said was ‘mom’. And then nothing until after we… I mean when it…”

“After you had sex?” I was shocked. I mean what are the odds of a woman and family as “normal” as hers having incest. I wondered if her daughter-in-law knew. Sherry nodded. “I still don’t hate you, I’m honored you trusted me so much,” I actually felt relief. And I felt closer to her, “Honey, I get it, I understand that loneliness. There’s a lot worse things than that.”

My alarm went off on my watch and we stood to get dressed. I noticed a dark spot on her slacks when she sat down to put on her shoes. I hoped Erin wouldn’t notice, or know what that was. Sherry finished and I offered my hand to help her up, “David, is there ANYTHING more wrong than fucking your own kid?”

THE CONNIE PROBLEM

I was in the office late one night; I was finishing up an assessment. It was just the summary analysis, basically a TL;DR for the decision makers. That’s all they read. The meat and potatoes of the analysis is for the “on the ground” folks to use in their planning. That’s a verbose way of saying I was on auto pilot. So I had switched to whisky and sat sipping while the file software finalized its final checks and encoded it into the proprietary format the customer used. It was accepted by their system and I leaned back, just at the edge of the glow from the desk lamp and monitors.

I had been drinking coffee until just an hour ago and decided to just sit there and drink until the caffeine burnt out or the sedation over came its effects. The absolutely perfect time for amateurish self-analysis. As I sipped I decided to figure out where any of this shit with my daughter came from or, for that matter, Connie. I’ve also never been able to quit thinking about Sherry and her confession. So by the time I was actually buzzed, I had come to a few conclusions.

Connie and I grew up with an intact family though as we got older the parents were away a lot. When it fell on me to teach Connie how to drive; that’s when we became best friends. We had a beautiful rural and large property about 40 miles outside Tucson. We both had plenty of a social life during the school year and almost weekly gatherings during Summer break. But we were otherwise pretty secluded because it was such a production to make a trip into town. The last couple of years, our parents had ceased the Summer family vacation but we did things when they were home; like four day weekend trips to Vegas.

The balance of these times were spent out on the property riding our dirt bikes, fishing at the creek that crossed the Southwest corner of the property. We had satellite and we’d watch movies late into the night sometimes and we’d talk. There was nothing she wouldn’t tell me nor I, her. So I could understand, not justify, our incest. The closeness and drugs combined with the need to keep one another warm and we came together. I never landed on a plausible rationalization for fucking my sister on the eve of my wife’s funeral.

Then there was Erin. Until high school when she should’ve been entering 7th grade, we had all taken lot’s of trips and spent time together and she kept her friends, even with the high school thing. By the time she should’ve been a freshman, she was starting at Embrey-Riddle and had to have someone in loco parentis close by so that fell to my sister. It occurred to me, as badly as she wanted to go we ended up pausing her childhood and she didn’t have any real contemporaries and as she blossomed, all she had was my sister and when she came into her sexuality she obviously was taught some of her libertine influences. Plus who knows what seeds my own wife sowed. And that is another thing I had trouble reconciling. Sure, she was a wildcat in bed but she was a good mom and showed no signs of perversity, beyond some of her more adventurous sex acts with me. With all that, Erin had come away with some really aberrant ideas sexually.

Then there was me, the worst of us all. Not only had I taken my own daughter as a lover, I fucked another. And there was always that lingering need to dominate, maybe use my little girl and her own acceptance of that use. I had no rationale for my unnatural lusts or my inability not to act on them. “It’s all bullshit,” I said aloud. I startled myself and looked around. The rest of the house was still dark. I had been cleaning out my inbox and caught an email from my sister. She was asking whether she could fly up and spend sometime with us for the Labor Day weekend. She had complained that she was not seeing her kids very often, that we haven’t even had the opportunity to talk on the phone.

I closed down and killed the power to the computer. I’d call her in the morning, well, later in the morning. I went into the bedroom and could just make out Erin. She had kicked her sheet off and had one of those delectable legs cocked to the side so her satin pajama bottoms were pulled tight and a little into her slit. “Fuck me,” I whispered, “get a grip dad.” And when I crawled up onto the bed to lay down, she slid over next to me to cuddle at my side. I kissed her forehead. Erin sighed and whispered ‘daddy’ before she slid her leg over mine and went back to sleep with her head on my shoulder. I must’ve laid awake for another hour, ignoring my damnable hard on until sleep overcame me.

I was drinking my coffee and Erin was in the shower so I went ahead and called my sister. “Hello? David! How are you my love? How are you two doing up there?” What kind of greeting is that? “My love”?

“I saw your email late last night; thought I’d call rather than write. What’s going on? You wrote you want to come up, how long?”

Connie laughed, “I asked you first. She fuck you yet?” I was enraged though I’m not sure why.

“What the fuck Connie? Why would you ask that? That’s some kind of sick shit.” It sounded a little to close to MacBeth’s, “..my lady, thou dost protest too much.” Connie was silent for a second and then laughed.

“OMG! You DID fuck her you pervert. Who’s the sick one here?” She laughed again and my anger welled up in my chest. It was her that knew how vulnerable I was. It was her that fucked me with my wife freshly in the ground and it was her that had effectively groomed my daughter to tempt me.

Oh who was I fooling. “I swear you witch,” I stifled my own chuckling at the irony, “you were not whipped enough.”

“Who says it’s too late?” Then she laughed again and I wondered if she was high. Grass was legal where she lived and I wondered what being alone in that big old house had driven her to.

I was conflicted. While I was grateful to my sister for her care of Erin and while I appreciated her teaching my daughter the girly things. And I loved her. But the suggestions of the things that passed between her and Erin both inflamed me and caused me to resent her. She knew I wouldn’t be able to resist her and she knew that Erin’s naiveté would be my downfall. “Don’t give me a reason Connie.”

My sister started to giggle but stopped once my tone sunk in, “Uh, two weeks? I could use the time away. Please?” I relented and agreed and she answered with a squeal. Connie was a real problem for me but I loved my sister and I did miss her, but damn what had she become since her husband and kids all gone. There was history here and that was all to be further complicated by the two “opposing” influences on my daughter, coming together for a couple of weeks. I was worried but I also knew I had to face this all sooner than later.

WHEN WORLDS COLLIDE

I had a busy Thursday ahead of me. Erin and I had to fly into the regional, drive over to the National Guard Armory, we had to meet with the government rep handling her file and sign the standard ream of documents. Then I had just enough time to drive back to our hangar at the regional and fly her home. Then I might have time to take a leak before flying back to pick up Connie.

When I was taxiing up, passengers were already on the air stairs and waiting for their bags to be off loaded. The Fokker had been booked and there were a lot of passengers. So I didn’t see Connie right away and started over. Connie saw me first and shouted at me. She was wearing a pink halter top dress and with her blond hair and full tits, she had a Marilyn vibe going on. She charged me, closing fast considering her sandal toed pumps and I braced for impact. She launched herself and I caught her by her thighs as she wrapped her calves around my waist and hugged me to her. She crushed my lips as she glommed onto me with her open mouth. I didn’t know what she thought she was doing but people were looking. I pushed her off and held her at arm’s length, “What the fuck Connie? People know me around here,” I was shout whispering and smiling at the same time. Her amused face went away and she blushed. It was kind of cute.

I hadn’t noticed Sherry watching with mouth agape. When I spotted her she smiled and waved. Then she started over, her uniform a lot more together when I left her last. It made me smile. When she came over I introduced my sister, “Sherry, this is Connie, my sister.”

Sherry extended her hand and Connie took it in both of hers and smiled as she shook it briskly. Sherry looked at me and asked, “Can I talk to you about Erin starting her lessons?” I had mentioned it once, a month ago and she excused us from my sister and we walked a few feet away. She looked down acting like she was just kicking dust but I could see she was really struggling with her words, “You remember what I told you about my son?” I nodded and a knot formed in my stomach not knowing where she was headed, “Is Connie… I mean have your sister and you?”

I saw where she was going with some relief and nodded, “Yes Sherry, we didn’t mean for it to happen but, like you, we were both really hurting over Moira…”

Sherry actually smiled up at me, “Oh David, I had no idea. That’s why you were so understanding. I love you for that.” She wiped a tear then looked past me to where Connie was waiting, “I better leave from here,” and she stuck out her hand for me to shake. As I was walking back she shouted, “Have Erin call me.” I nodded and raised a hand in acknowledgement.

When I got back, Connie was standing next to her bags. She had the carry on in her hand but she had two large heavy bags. Only a woman could pack for two weeks looking like they were going on a ’round the world cruise. So I hired a cab to transport her bags out to the house while I flew my sister to my home. It occurred to me that I had never flown her before.

When I was inside the beltway, I maintained a multi engine commercial and IFR rating. Now I just kept my PPL current with only enough time under the hood keeping my instrument rating current. The 140 was limited but it had the old VOR and ADF. I also had a WAAS capable GPS installed during a refit. It was a little jarring visually, contrasting the classic instruments I had conserved. Living in this mountainous area with its varied and beautiful topography, it made sense to stay current just in case. My sister was like a little girl in her joy as I made sure to bank in and out of some of the passes, showing her around as we tooled back to my house.

Connie’s dress had ridden up showing a lot of shapely thigh and I began to feel angry but got a hold of my self and blew off my suspicions of her having ulterior motives. She was just moving around a lot and grinning at this low level sight seeing tour. My conflicted feelings towards my sister, with all of my imaginings added to the sordid admissions from Erin, faded. I missed Connie. She had been my best friend after all.

When we got down, rode the golf cart down to the house and walked up to the patio door, it was starting to get dark. The light came on and the patio door flew open and out bounds Erin. The hugged and swayed back and forth for several seconds, I was fascinated that Connie was almost a head taller than Erin. I had become accustomed to Erin’s small size though no less enthralled; so this was a sudden shift in perspective that gave me chills.

WAS MOM A SUBMISSIVE?

The awkwardness in having to send the daughter, who had been in my bed back to her room. For what? Appearances? After my shower, I came out to pour a night cap. The girls were sitting at the breakfast table with Erin drinking a tea and Connie had made an Old Fashion. I had to close my eyes for a second. Connie was wearing a long cotton night shirt that followed her figure nicely. Her still high sitting breasts had mouth watering nipples pressing on the fabric. And Erin looked like a wet dream in one of her satin pajama sets.

I finished my drink in a couple of swallows, “I’m headed to bed. Don’t stay up too late you two.” As I headed out, Erin ran up to me.

“Daddy,” she whispered as we hugged, “please let me come to bed with you.”

I pulled her back and held her at arm’s length, “Erin honey, your aunt Connie…” I whispered through a smile so, like Sherry and I on the tarmac, I looked as if I was telling her fatherly encouragement.

“You don’t think she knows?” Erin almost laughed at the absurdity.

“Did you tell her?!?” I quickly extinguished the flash of anger and replaced my smile.

“What do you think we talked about? I was with her and not my parents for almost four years. You don’t think we talked about you two, about what mom and I talked about and what I wanted?” She gave her head a shake and cocked it to the side. Her pleading eyes were out of place on her otherwise incredulous face. I kind of grimaced but then smiled again and nodded. And I realized how absurd, the idea was of returning Erin to her room. Like that was somehow going to lessen the fact that Connie already knew I had fucked my daughter.

I had actually gone to sleep because the door opening woke me. I rolled onto my side and peeled the comforter and sheet back on her side. I caught Erin’s fresh scent. The slightest hint of mint from her kiss remained from her tea. As Erin pulled from her kiss, she parted her lips and sighed as she slid her satin covered tits around my bare chest and ground her sex into my thigh, the satin there beginning to become damp.

“Daddy, make me cum.” Erin’s whisper was hoarse and breathy. I rolled her onto her back and straddled her waist. I began unbuttoning her pajamas top and smiled at her quickening breath. I thumbed and pinched her small nipples and felt her thrust her pelvis up behind me. “Daddy,” she rasped, “make me cum until I can’t stand it. I like being helpless when you torture me like that. I moved my hips down to her knees and leaned forward to suckle and bite her nipples. She slapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her yelp. I was really abusing her tiny pale nipples. “Yesss,” she hissed, “That’s it daddy, make my nipples like hers.” Whose, Connie’s?

I slid my hands under her undulating ass and grabbed the waist band of her pajama bottoms and she lifted her hips to allow their removal. She suddenly hissed and I watched the gusset of her panties pull from between her vulva and labia. Her labia appeared rosy in the dim light from the full moon and moisture glinted along their exposed edge. My own hard on had escaped my shorts’ waistband left a slick between her thighs when I leaned forward to kiss my squirming daughter.

I worked my daughter’s thighs apart with my hand she gasped when I drew up my hand through her dripping slit and tweaking her clit. She sobbed out loud when I attached my mouth to her diminutive sex. I briefly wanted to shush her but realized that it was useless anyway. No way Connie didn’t know Erin was in here with me. She was really wound up because she started crying and moaning through an orgasm in under three minutes. I really wanted to fuck her but this was for her and I shoved a finger into her asshole as she was crashing into a second orgasm. “Aaaaaaaah!” The sudden intrusion made her cry out and then tumble into multiple cums. By the time I came up with my daughter’s taste in my mouth and her cum all over my beard, she pulled me down for a kiss. I started to “dismount” and she looked confused, “Aren’t you going to fuck me daddy?”

“Oh sweetie, it’s okay. I wanted tonight to be just about you,” I was aware of a pain in my balls from my frustrated hard on as I spoke. I still wanted her to just bask in her after glow, partly because the restraint will make her crave me all the more.

I laid on my side, facing her. “Is it really all for me?” I nodded. “Then cum on me, I want to wear you.” Well shit, that was a shock that went all the way through to my cock. I didn’t say a word and just got to my knees and then leaned over her face. She jumped when a large drop of precum splashed on her upper lip and into her slightly open mouth. I started a slow fisting of my threatening hard on, occasionally milking precum into her kissing lips. A drip from the eye of my meat at the corner of her mouth wet her lips and ran down her face. Her breath was breathy and sounded almost disembodied in its sensuality. “Mmmmm daddy, rub my nipples with your cock.” And I was smiling at the way she lurched and hissed with every slimy swipe at her swollen and sensitive nipples. I felt a twinge behind my balls with her jumps and squeaks.

I changed tack and began sliding my cock along her sternum, my hand pressing it down and the head flicking across her lips and the notch at her collar bone. She was pushing against my ass with her pelvis like she was fucking the air, complete with grunts whenever she thrust upward. Erin was licking her lips and swallowing when a particular copious surge of precum dropped into her mouth. Somewhere between my masturbating on my own daughter and the “danger” of having my sister in the room next door I was suddenly cumming. A rope shot over her chin and splashed into her hair, across her left eye and down to cross her lips. Just as a slimy glob slid off her chin and down her neck, a second blast hit under her chin and splashed along her collar bone. She was begging for me to paint her face, tits and thighs with my cum. By the time I was finished she looked like a porno tape.

I collapsed next to her and she rolled up on her side facing me. Congealing cum hung from her lips, chin and nipple like milky ice sickles. The hand she rested her head on squelched with the cum on the side of her face. I felt a latent surge of cum slide onto my inner thigh when she suddenly sucked in a glob that had started to slide across her lips, from her cheek. The sheer obscenity and eroticism was almost unbearable. I quietly thanked my fatigue for preventing another, more stubborn erection.

“Mmmmmm daddy,” she licked her lips after swallowing the errant clump of sperm cells. “Thank you, thank you for making your daughter so happy.” She didn’t say “wife” which had become common in our after fuck pillow talk. “Daddy? Can I ask you something really personal?” I scanned her up and down and chuckled, now she asks. I nodded and narrowed my eyes wondering why this was different and why she suddenly needed to ask permission before broaching any subject. “You did a lot of things with mom, right? Different things.” I nodded again and she continued, “Would you do those things to me? Aunt Connie?”

“Sweetie, first your aunt Connie and I made a mistake… twice. And how can I after… after you and I…”

Erin had me again, “You mean how can you fuck your sister after you fucked your daughter? Some moral objection to ‘cheating’ all of a sudden? You fucked that lady pilot.” I was stunned and she laughed, “Oh for fuck’s sake daddy, I smelled you on her when I came back from the interview.” Erin slid her right hand along my sticky cock, threatening to breathe new life into it. “Do you love her?” There was no accusation or venom in the question.

“I’m sorry Erin, we got together over Christmas when she felt sorry for me and lonely even though her kids were there. I like her, I like her a lot and that’s what bothers me. It doesn’t bother me honey, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay daddy, I just want to know. Is she a submissive?” I choked.

“What do you mean? What do you think that is?” I thought maybe I could shut this down by pinning her to definitions.

“Where do you think I’ve been daddy? Sure I studied hard and didn’t have any peers, but it wasn’t without any conversation or meals. I know some of the things you did to mom, do you do that with Sherry?” She was laser focused on my face which was an odd picture. Imagine her juvenile teenage face, looking extremely serious and dripping cum.

“No sweetie, we just have sex. It’s nothing compared to you,” I meant it but Erin just rolled her eyes.

“You do those things to aunt Connie?” I shook my head, “She’s a submissive daddy, did you know that?” I had my suspicions but was still surprised.

“How do you know that?!? I’m not convinced you even know what that is.” I was suddenly agitated.

Erin gently squeezed my gooey balls, “It’s letting a lover do things to you. Selfish things some times, punishment some and showing your devotion by surrendering control. Submissives like to be controlled. They get off on it, even if they are hurt or humiliated in some extreme cases.” I know my mouth was hung open and she just flashed a self satisfied smile, “You know there are things like psych classes in college don’t you? Beside, Connie wanted me to do things to her. She’d reward me by making me cum in her mouth.” I shrugged in acknowledgement. Then she seemed to blush a little as she looked down at her sticky chest and thighs, “Was mom a submissive?” There it was.

“Honey, it’s complicated. Your mom came from a high powered work place and was even under pressure in our own business. She sometimes just wanted to escape all of that and surrender herself to be used. She had a history sweetie, some of the things she wanted me to do to her were abominations. I only agreed when I thought she’d lose it without that relief.” I breathed a deep breath, hoping her curiosity was sated.

The twisted little nympho had created another aching hard on, “Daddy, I’d like to be a submissive. I want you to do things to me too. My childhood was nothing but books and tests,” she noted my look of hurt that accompanied my guilt. In enabling her prodigious scholastic career we took her away from her friends and any real sense of normalcy. “I mean I wanted it all daddy, now I just want to be a little girl again. I want my daddy to tell me what I’m supposed to do. I want to go without making adult decisions… I mean other than.. you know.”

Erin automatically spread her thighs as I rolled in between them and seated the tip of my cock at her soaking cunt. I leaned down and kissed her gooey mouth and slammed into her all in one move. Her scream went down my throat and I ruthlessly battered her cervix until I came. A paradoxical smile belied her teary eyes, “I don’t think you know what you’re asking baby. And I am having a hell of a time not visiting your mom’s and my kinks onto you,” I persisted even as I was pulling my slimy cock from her abused cunt.

She slid her sticky naked body against mine and a cum smeared mouth kissed my cheek, “I know what I want daddy. I want you to control me, guide me and tell me what to do. And I want to please you. I want to do whatever you want me to, do to me whatever you think think I deserve.”

With that, she yawned and was soon asleep, her slimy face lying at my shoulder. “Oh little girl,” I mumbled, “What have you done to me?”

[Go on?]