Daddy's New Mate

She went to her final exams that Spring looking as though she was ready to hatch, but she was still weeks away from her due date. She had converted her own bedroom, where she ostensibly slept each night, into our son's room. No one offered to give her any baby shower, probably due to the presumed illegitimacy of her pregnancy, but many well-wishers, including Steve's parents, gave my daughter gifts of baby clothes and equipment.

As my daughter prepared herself for the ordeal of parturition, Tracy became more self-absorbed. We slept together and provided each other with sexual comfort. She became adept at fellatio and often sucked me off without wanting any return from my body. The big day began in the middle of the night, and six hours later my daughter delivered up our first child, a seven pound son.

Part 3.

The cover story that worked once would clearly not be enough again, so we decided to be very careful in our bedroom. Tracy was eager for more children to seal our love and fill up her life. Our sex life never diminished, but increased in frequency and variety. I could push my daughter over the edge while she was nursing little David by fingering her wet pussy.

"Daddy," Tracy said, "he's made me come a few times just by sucking on my nipples; they are so sensitive and his little mouth feels so good." She took the head of my cock into her mouth, rubbing it with her tongue. "He is better sucking my nipples than you are!"

"That's because he has more incentive," I replied.

We were all naked together. I had just slowly fingered the young mother to a huge climax, and she was sucking my rigid cock as she nursed our child. We were in our bedroom. Tracy was sitting in a soft chair, supported by cushions, and I stood next to her bracing myself on the back of the chair.

"Daddy," she said, pulling her eager mouth off my firm prick, "I do want more children, but I don't see yet any way that we can do it."

"Yes, we need to think of something else, a new cover story, unless you want to be labeled a slut."

"Mmmmmm," she answered as she sucked me deeper into her mouth. She let me slip out again. "I almost don't care at all." Tracy's lips sealed around my rigid prick again.

"I thought of another idea," I said, trying to talk with the growing sensations of pleasure that my daughter was bringing me. "We could move away if I accepted a different job."

Tracy let my thick prick gradually slip from her mouth. "Where would we go?" She took me inside her warm mouth again.

"We could go to a large city and conceal our illicit arrangement in the urban anonymity, but we still need to deal with our family if we wish to retain any contacts with them. I really hate the idea of giving up our extended family."

"I don't know, daddy," Tracy objected. "Living in a big city doesn't appeal to me, and I don't want to give up friends and relatives. Maybe I could claim that I was raped." She licked the bottom of my shaft with her tongue several times and resumed sucking me.

"No, that's not a good idea, honey. The police are good at discovering if someone is telling them some made-up yarn." I could feel myself tingling sharply and gasped out, "Oh god, honey, I need to come so bad. Please suck me off now, please." Her head bobbed up and down faster, and I gripped the chair as my spunk boiled up inside me. Tracy let my cock slip out of her mouth again.

"Maybe," She said, "we could..."

"Please, baby," I begged. Her lips resumed their lewd sucking on my aching dick, and I spasmed into her mouth. My daughter hungrily gulped down my cum. She liked to claim that it was my contribution to David's nutrition after it had been processed through her body.

For the moment we forgot about the difficulty of increasing the size of our little family. Our plight re-emerged again and again. No plan that we considered seemed to be adequate for out needs. We did not want to give up our community or alienate ourselves from our family and friends. We were comfortable with what we had, and were more deeply in love now that we had a living, breathing baby that we had made together, a child of our love.

In addition, we became worried about the probability game we were playing with genetics. We had been lucky once, but each child that we produced would have a chance of displaying an unpredicted recessive trait. We agreed that we would abort any child that had a chance of being born with a severe birth defect. We would not make an innocent suffer for our illegal love.

We grew sad at times, believing that we would never be able to make another child again. What were we to do?