In Camera

"Take me upstairs Daddy. Take me to my room."

Yes. Her room. I'd fuck her on her own bed, surrounded by all her girlie things. I scooped her off her feet and carried her upstairs. On her bed, I fumbled her bra clasp. She giggled at my awkwardness and undid it herself, shucking it off to reveal her small, pert tits. My hands were drawn to them like magnets. She writhed under my palms, sighing as I pulled at her rubbery nipples.

"Sweetheart, are you sure?" for a brief moment, I remembered who we were and offered her a chance to stop this madness.

"Yes Daddy. Put it in me. Fuck me like you always wanted to on-line." Her voice was husky with desire and her hands pushed at her thong. She raised her tush under me to free her panties and squirmed to push them down and off. Both naked, both aroused beyond any reasonable hope of self-control, we pressed our bodies together.

Under me, Helen spread her long legs wide and guided my pecker into her smooth shaved vagina. "Fuck me Daddy. Fuck me hard!" She urged me into action, pulling my head down and driving her tongue into my mouth. I fucked her. I fucked her for all I was worth. I hammered into her pussy over and over and over. She thrust her hips up to meet each thrust, squeezing me tight in her hot hole. I fucked her forever – or so it seemed. She shuddered and came, pulling away from my mouth to exult "Yes Daddy!...Make me come...MAKE ME COME!...FUCK ME!...FUCK MEEE!" And still I drove in and out like a Nascar piston, silencing her second climax by kissing her hard, feeling her shake, tense and go limp but barely slowing down.

As her third orgasm approached, so too did mine. My strokes shortened and I blew my wad, collapsing on top of her, gasping and exhausted. I was clearly out of condition. Her hands on my chest urged me to roll off her. We lay side by side, catching our breath. I glanced across and met her eyes. She looked positively beatific. Just like her mother on our wedding night.

"Wasn't that fun, Daddy?" She rolled against me, lying half across my chest and toying with my nipple. I was still pretty winded.

"God, you look like your mother." I couldn't get over the resemblance. They even smelled alike after sex – the same musky sweetness.

"Do I suck like her too?" Helen asked.

"She doesn't do that."

"Oh? Poor Daddy. Never?"

"Occasionally, when we were first married. She didn't like doing it though and I've never asked her to do anything she doesn't like."

"Did she spit it out?"

"Always. It was a different era. Nice girls just didn't do that sort of thing."

"Nice girls still don't. You're lucky I'm not one of them."

"You used to be. We raised you to be a nice girl."

"And now I'm Daddy's little whore."

"That's a horrible word."

"But accurate. I like sex and I don't mind being paid for it. Pussy has been a marketable commodity since we lived in caves. At least I'm honest about my price. Girls who expect to be wined and dined and string guys along for weeks are far less honest."

"It's still a horrible word. Hetaera is much nicer."

"Het-what?"

"Hetaera. In ancient Greece. Look it up on the net sometime."

"I will. But you didn't answer my question."

"What question, sweetheart?"

"Wasn't that fun?"

I had to laugh. "Yes, Sweetheart. It was fun. Perverse, illegal, immoral fun."

"And it will all be our little secret."

"Our little secret." I glanced at the clock. Meg would be home in an hour. "We'd better get presentable. Your Mom will be home soon.

"Come and shower with me then." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, pulling at my arm to urge me to rise too. "We can soap each other."

"No Sweetheart. It'll get me all excited again and-"

"That's the idea, Daddy."

"-And I'm trying to keep the world from noticing that my daughter's Viagra with legs." I resisted her urging to get up.

"If you stay here," Her voice had the syrupy wheedling tone she used as a little girl to get her own way. It always used to work for her. "You'll see more bare pussy tonight than a gynaecologist sees in a week." She smiled so sweetly as she blackmailed me.

"You wouldn't."

"I would. I will. Mom already thinks you're having a mid-life crisis. By the time I'm through with you, she'll think you're having a nervous breakdown instead. So come and shower with me, Daddy." She stood, still tugging my arm. I gave in. I'd already used up my reserves of will power anyway. I was in the rationalizing phase now, just like when I convinced myself there was a good reason to keep going back to her chat room: apart from the obvious reason that I'm one sick puppy.

"C'mon Daddy!" We were soaping each other but I was avoiding the parts of her that I was most interested in because I didn't want yet another erection to deal with. "You used to bathe me when I was a baby. Do you want me to get diaper rash?"

"As soon as you were old enough, we taught you to wash there yourself. Remember?"

"I remember. That was when we christened it my pee-pee. But I don't want to wash it myself now. I want you to do it." She pouted. I did it.

I let my fingers work there way along her labia, slicking suds into every nook and cranny while Helen closed her eyes and sagged against me with a contented sigh. My soapy fingers found her hole and slid just inside practically of their own accord. "Naughty Daddy." She murmured against my shoulder.

"Did you really only want me to wash you?" I whispered back, caught up in the intimacy of the moment. Everything this afternoon had been like a storm at sea but this was the calm after the storm. Here were two people with no fight left in them. Two lovers, gentle as only lovers can be. I caressed the silken purse of her vagina, pressing my palm over her clitoris. She clung to my neck for support and moaned as her already much used pussy responded, holding my fingers inside her.

"Daddy. Wash my bottom too." Her voice trailed off into another moan. With my free hand, I reached around her and obliged, soaping her wonderfully firm butt cheeks then down the cleft between them until I found her anus. Memory replayed her performances with her toys: beads, dildos, fingers, a carrot complete with all its greenery, like a bizarre tail. I'd seen Helen's ass a lot. Now my soapy digit spiralled in and pressed gently past the resistance of her sphincter.

"Oh Daddy..."

I barely heard her. Her voice was so soft the shower drowned it out. I moved my fingers slowly, gently in her holes until she came, trembling as if the water had run cold. It was not an energetic orgasm, nor a noisy one, but she'd had three of them already. I eased my fingers out and washed her properly and very gently. Eventually she stood unaided and kissed me tenderly, pressing my penis between our bellies.

"I'd better get out. I have more hair to dry than you." Helen opened the shower door and stepped onto the mat, rapping herself in a large towel and rubbing her hair with a smaller one. She sat on the lid of the toilet, facing me, and continued to towel off. "You should save that for Mom." Helen nodded in the direction of my erection. "I'd like to listen to you two doing it again tonight."

"Sweetheart, you're merciless."

"Daddy, tell me that you didn't enjoy this afternoon? Then tell me you don't want to play with me again tomorrow. Tell me that and I'll let you be."

"You know I can't. It's been incredible but..."

"Daddy Darling, its only sex. I'm home for two weeks. We'll have a wonderful holiday together then I'll go back to college and you'll go back to jerking off. If you want to feel guilty about fucking your little girl, save it for when I'm back in Boston but don't spoil my summer break."

"You're such a bad girl." The hot water was all gone so I got out and grabbed a towel too.

"So spank me. Tomorrow, on my bare bottom. That'll be fun too." Helen twisted the towel into a turban, stood up & pecked my cheek. "While you're fucking Mom tonight, think about that: My bottom all pink and tender. You do want to fuck my bottom, don't you Daddy?" She left the bathroom before I could respond. I guess she knew the answer already.

"What did you two do this afternoon?" Meg asked Helen while they fixed dinner together.

"Daddy spent most of the afternoon in his study. I lay down for an hour or two. I guess all yesterday's travelling caught me up. Pass the pepper please...Thanks."

"Are you going out tonight?"

"I thought I might. I'll call Cassy after dinner and see who's around. You're off tomorrow?"

"Yes. Have you finished with the pepper?"

"Sure. Here... We should do something tomorrow. Just us girls. Have you been to the country club recently?"

"Not for weeks."

"We could send Daddy off to play golf and get pampered for a few hours."

"That'll be nice. Be a dear and tell your father dinner's ready."

"Ok Mom."

"Daddy, dinner's ready." Helen stood in the doorway to my study so I had to squeeze past her. "Bet you've got a good appetite."

"Coming." I switched off the monitor and squeezed past her. I'd been thinking hard on what Helen had said after our shower. It was only for two weeks and - Hell yes! - I wanted everything she was offering. To this end, and to let Helen know my decision, I pressed against her, pinning her against the doorframe. "And yes, I have a tremendous appetite." I released her and patted her on the bottom as she preceded me to the dining room.

Helen got her revenge during dinner. Sitting opposite me, she wormed her toes into my lap and massaged my pecker to hardness, all the while smiling sweetly and chatting animatedly about her plans while she was home. It was over dinner I found out about tomorrow's trip to the country club. There are worse ways to spend Sunday than playing eighteen holes.

When Helen had gone out to meet up with her friends, I helped Meg with the dishes then we settled on the sofa to watch TV. I don't know what time our daughter came in because Meg and I had an early night. Helen missed eavesdropping on us.

Sunday turned out to be a day of rest for my penis. I played golf while my ladies – Jeez! I sound like a pimp – My ladies got wrapped in mud, or seaweed, or whatever the latest beauty therapy was. Whatever. I know it took them all day to pamper themselves. I'm not complaining, mind you. I'm the first to recognise the effort women put into looking good and, believe me, they did look good. Meg looked ten years younger and, for the first time in days, I got hard for her in the presence of Helen. I promised myself another early night.

Three days running! Meg and I haven't got frisky three days running in years. And maybe I'm imagining it but she doesn't seem to be just going through the motions anymore. This is the old Meg, enthusiastic and playful. I'm starting to think Helen has had an effect on both our sex lives. Or could it be I was wrong, thinking Meg was just getting to 'that age'? Could it have just been boredom? And being overheard by our daughter is a pinch of seasoning? Or some female intuition that there's a challenger for my attention? Fuck it! I'm over-analysing all this. Meg came out of the spa looking and feeling hot. She and I had really great sex that left teethmarks on both my shoulders and, bizarrely, on the side of her breast. Who cares why?

Monday, both Meg and I had work but even my office wasn't a sanctuary from Helen's effect on me. About eleven, my secretary told me that my daughter was on the line. Against better judgement, I took the call.

"Hello Sweetheart."

"Hi Daddy. Did you enjoy yourself last night? It sounded like it."

"Yes Sweetheart. We enjoyed ourselves. Did you just call to taunt me?"

"Not just. But I am lying naked in your bed right now. If only there was a webcam at the foot of the bed. I'd show you what you're missing."

"Sweetheart, I-"

"Oh Daddy. I was so wet last night, listening to you fucking Mom. I lay awake hoping she'd go to sleep and you'd come to my room. I wanted you to lick up all that juice. Mmm, I'm getting turned on just thinking about it."

"Me too." The hard-on was back. I shifted in my chair to press it against the underside of the desk. It would hardly bend.

"You're hard?"

"You know I am Sweetheart."

"Take it out Daddy."

"What? No way!"

"Pretend you're Papa again. We can masturbate together. I've got Mom's vibrator."

"Meg has a vibrator?" This was new to me.

"Sure Daddy... You didn't know? Ooh! What have you been missing? Listen..." There was a buzzing in my ear as Helen held the vibrator to the telephone. "Now tell me what to do with it, Daddy."

Well, what was I meant to do? Tell her to put it away? Hang up? Get on with my work? "Put it in your pussy. Push it in deep." I struggled with my zipper under the desk.

"Ooh!...That feels good. Thank you Daddy. Now what shall I do with it?"

"Turn it up full and pump it hard." I got my pecker free and took my own advice, pumping it with my fist. "You'd better be quick sweetheart." I could hear her moaning and sighing as she rammed the vibrator into her pussy. I closed my eyes and built up a mental picture of the scene in my bedroom. I jerked my pecker harder.

"Oh Daddy...It feels wonderful...I wish you were here right now...pushing your big, hard cock into my bottom...feeling the vibrations too...Mmm...You will fuck my ass...Ooooh...oh my...won't you Daddy?..."

"Yes, Sweetheart." I was close to coming now. Really close.

"Say it Daddy."

"I'm gonna come home early and... fuck that sweet tush... I'll...Ahhh!" I blew my wad. The sound of my orgasm set Helen off – or she faked it for drama purposes. As I pumped my pecker, milking second and third lesser ejaculations from my balls, I listened to the squeals and cries of my daughter's orgasm. I balanced the phone on my shoulder while I took the handkerchief from my breast pocket and cleaned up the while stuff while she came back down.

"Thank you Daddy. That was terrific. See you later Masturbator!" She hung up on me.

My office stank of come. I dug a half bottle of Hugo Boss aftershave out of one of the drawers – it had been a birthday present from Helen – and dropped it on the corner of the desk. Shards of glass scattered across the carpet and the stink of sex was obliterated by the overwhelming perfume of about a year's supply of aftershave. I made myself presentable then buzzed for my secretary, making a show of wiping aftershave off my desk with the handkerchief as she entered. The fragrance hit her at the door. No further explanation was really required. I elaborated on the scene anyway. "Jessica, could you call Housekeeping. I've managed to break my aftershave." I looked sheepish about my 'clumsiness'.

"Right away Mr. Jameson. You might want to turn the air conditioning up to maximum too." She retreated and shut me back in with the nauseatingly strong scent. At least I'd only have to do this once. The room would smell of Hugo Boss and nothing else for weeks.

The aftershave incident turned out to be a double blessing. I could borrow office space tomorrow and for the rest of the week because a colleague was going out of town but this afternoon, when the stink was at it's worst, nobody could be expected to occupy that office. With no other rooms available, I got Jessica to bump my afternoon appointments and went home early.

"Sweetheart! Daddy's home!" I called as I came through the front door. No answer. Had Helen gone out? I put my attaché case in the study – she wasn't at my computer either – and headed for the kitchen to make myself a sandwich. While washing salad I happened to glance out of the window into the garden. Helen was stretched out on a blanket, getting a tan – an all over tan. The only part of her that was covered was her ears, and them only with headphones. I poured an extra glass of lemonade and took my late lunch out into the garden on a tray. Whatever she was listening to was loud enough for me to sneak up on her and her eyes were shut until I held a glass above her and let one drop of icy condensation drip from the bottom of it onto her belly.

"Daddy!" She practically levitated at the shock of ice water.

"Lemonade? You look hot."

"Thanks Daddy. And thanks for the compliment." She took the proffered glass and sipped at it.

"Compliment?"

"That I look hot. D'you really think so?"

Ok, so I walked into it. "That's not what I meant and you know it." I could tell that by the mischievous gleam in her eyes. "But, yes Sweetheart, you look damn hot. You should wear something out here though. What would your mother say if she'd come home and found you naked?"

"Mom'd say 'Put some clothes on Honey. You'll shock your father'. Did I shock you Daddy?" She sat cross-legged on the blanket, making enough room for me and my tray. We shared the sandwich.

"Not today. I'm getting used to you." I shouldn't have said that. I wish I hadn't said that. I really, really wish I hadn't. Guess who thought it was a challenge? Yep, my darling daughter. She rolled onto her back, kicking her legs wide and reached for her pussy lips, peeling them apart and cutting loose with her bladder. An arc of hot, golden fluid hit me in the face then hosed my shirt, tie and pants as the pressure dropped. I spluttered, gasped & got a mouthful of the salty stuff. As soon as she'd finished peeing, Helen sat up and crossed her legs again, reaching for her lemonade.

"Getting used to me, Daddy? You should take those wet things off. I'll wash them for you." Her tone was matter-of-fact but the gleam in her eyes was back with a vengeance.

"You're crazy." Ok. Understatement. I peeled off my shirt, using the dry back of it to wipe my face. The tie was silk. It was a write-off. The pants, I could get dry-cleaned. The shirt was the only thing washable apart from me, and I definitely needed a shower.

"Not crazy, just naughty. Naughty girls should be spanked."

"Oh, you're gonna get spanked alright! Just as soon as I've showered." I went inside, leaving Helen to put my shirt and her blanket in the washing machine. My tie went in the trash and my pants got rinsed under a cold shower so I wouldn't have to explain the pee to Meg.

When I got out of the shower, hard as nails as a result of fantasizing about Helen's corporal punishment, she was waiting in my bedroom looking very contrite and even a little shy.

"Daddy," It was her plaintive, little girl voice. "I'm very sorry I spoiled your tie. Please don't spank me." I assumed that this was all part of her role-playing. I decided to be stern and authoritative.

"Forgiveness comes after the taste of much correction. Come here." I sat on the edge of the bed and patted my lap. With every indication of hesitancy and reluctance, Helen approached, knelt and bent over my lap to receive her punishment.

"Owww!" She squealed as my palm slapped down hard on her bottom. A hand on the nape of her neck stopped her from rising. As smack after smack landed left and right, her cries and struggling subsided. Her tush was soon blushing with the harsh treatment and radiating heat. I confess, it was a stimulating sight. Between blows, I could hear Helen sniffing back tears. I was not surprised: these were not playful smacks. I thought perhaps she'd been punished enough and stopped.

"Don't stop, Daddy." She sobbed. What could I do? I resumed the cadence of blows on her buttocks until my hand was completely numb and all I could feel in it were pins and needles. I had to stop then, but I didn't let her rise. I eased my fingers between her blazing buttocks and caressed her anus.

"Daddy," She paused to sniff. "There's lubricant in my room."

Incest is like parachuting: Once you've got up the nerve to jump out of what's normal, you enjoy the fall all the way down. I had no idea what anal sex was actually like, never having tried it but my daughter had and she was well prepared. She tried to stand but was a bit too stiff after her spanking so I scooped her up and carried her to her own bed. Were all those tear marks on her face, the puffy eyes and the sniffly nose real? How could she fake that? Her 'punishment' must really have hurt. I didn't feel good about that. Whatever else, I never wanted to hurt my daughter – I love her, and I believe we shouldn't hurt those we love. But Helen could have asked me to stop anytime and didn't. She even urged me to go on. My guilt feelings didn't stop me taking her to her room with the intention of buttfucking her though. I was enjoying the fall too much to pull the cord on this just yet. I deposited her as gently as I could on her bedspread. She winced at the contact with her pink tush and rolled onto her side, curling foetal, facing away. The position presented her bottom quite conveniently.