Temptation's Consequence

bya_bent_ampersand©

She was a sick individual.

When I saw my house, I leapt out of Zachary's car. I didn't want to be with him for a single yard more than I had to be. As I ran home, I realized that he wasn't following. He'd left completely. He'd finished his job apparently.

I darted up the porch and put my hand on the front door.

I didn't have any keys. Yvette still had them.

I tried the doorknob and it was locked.

Son of a bitch, I thought and pushed myself off of the front door. I went around the house to the backyard gate. The wooden fence had seen better days. The gate seemed to be made up of splinters. I hadn't tried the padlock in years. It appeared rusty from so much neglect.

I reached up and felt the wooden shards stab into my skin. I hadn't lifted my own body weight for a very long time and it took considerable effort to get over the gate. I could feel it wobble between my legs before I half-dropped, half-fell to the backyard.

We never used the backyard anymore. It used to be the site of birthday parties and barbeques. The pool was covered in fallen leaves. It had been an exciting time when the pool was installed, a youthful time. It had been a true family time.

The tangled, brown wind chimes heralded a storm from the back patio.

I walked past the rusty pool furniture. There were cigarette butts on the ground. The patio had seen recent use. I noticed that a set of Chinese lanterns had been strung across the awning. I put my hand to the sliding glass patio door. It slid wide for me and I darted into the kitchen with the door wide open.

The island behind which I'd fucked Yvette.

The pantry where she had given me a blow job and a titty fuck.

I moved into the hallway and toward the front room.

The couch. The TV. The coffee table. I spotted Angela's candy dish. It smelt like cigarette smoke in there.

The stupid banister that led up the stairs.

Blood rushed to my fists as I listened to the silence of my home. What had she done to Angela? Had she done anything or was it another stupid trick of hers? Where was my wife?

"Angela?" I called out. My voice sounded hoarse and I could hear my own uncertainty taint its tone.

There was no response. I felt like I'd entered a haunted house at some perverted carnival. The rules were 'don't touch the actors, they won't touch you.'

"Hey," Yvette said from above me.

I looked up and saw that my daughter stood at the top of the stairs.

She was a dark contrast to what she had been the day before. Her hair color was different. It was dark. My baby girl had tanned skin and black hair now. In another life, I might have asked about the change, but that was so far behind us now.

Since it was her way, she held a cigarette limply at her side and held her lofty breasts up with her other arm. She was dressed in a simple large black a-shirt and no pants. She wore high-heeled black shoes.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know, Kyle," Yvette said and blew smoke upward. "I just said that to get you here faster."

"Are you planning to do something to her?"

Yvette weighed my question and leaned onto the railing up on high. We'd fucked on that railing. We'd fucked just about everywhere I could see. "Funny question, daddy... what do you think I could do to her?"

I wasn't about to give her suggestions.

"You're a total bitch." I said to her.

"Does it feel good to say that to me, daddy?" She narrowed her eyes down at me.

"I loved you."

"I never loved you," she said on this side of deadpan. Her eyes were dull and lifeless. She was dismissive with her remark.

The sound of her pitch sent a rock into my throat. I didn't know what she meant. Was it that I could never be her lover or was it that she had never cared for me her whole life? I couldn't tell which. As I stared up at that cold, passive face, I tried to keep from trembling.

She only flicked her ashes onto the carpet and walked away.

I watched her newly changed black hair run down her back as she disappeared into the upper-level of my house.

I thought of that night in jail. I thought of the cop spitting on me. I thought of her making me suck the end of a loaded weapon. I thought back on how she forced me to touch another man's cock. How she had made me drink her piss.

All of it didn't compare to her turning her back on me at that moment.

My hand hit the railing immediately and I bounded up the stairs after her.

I burst into her room and found her sitting in the limp swivel chair next to her desk.

She dropped her burning cigarette to the carpet and rubbed it out with her shoe. She looked at me from behind those dark locks as if my appearance was the deepest inconvenience.

"You made me suck the end of a loaded gun, Yvette."

"Yeah?"

"I have been in jail all night."

"Poor baby."

"I've . . ." A frog got in the way of my words.

"Done everything I said?" Yvette offered and rotated her chair back and forth.

"Everything."

"I never told you to fuck mom," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm sorry it hurt you."

She stopped moving her chair and cocked her head at me. "You're only begging now because I want you to."

"I'm not. Begging."

"Come on, daddy..." she said and made a mockery with her lips. "Aren't you embarrassed enough? Haven't you been punished enough? You don't have to beg."

"I'm not begging you."

Yvette raised her shoulders and smiled at the floor.

"You're afraid of me, Kyle."

"No!" I shouted. "I drank your, you made me grab that bitches' limp . . ."

"And you're still doing what I say. Beggar. Walk out of here."

"No!" I said with lips that trembled as I approached her.

"I'm over you, daddy. I think this is stupid, daddy." She looked up at me with an unrecognized hatred. "You. Bore. The. Living. Shit. Out. Of. Me. Daddy."

I slapped her across the face. The force slammed her gaze toward her bed. She didn't move.

"Beg me for it," she said and licked her lips.

"What!?"

"Beg me to open my legs for you again, because I won't." She spoke to the bed.

"I don't want that."

"Good," Yvette said and flicked her black locks to look at me. I could see the tears in her eyes that my slap had caused. She wouldn't acknowledge the pain. "Because I hate fucking pathetic, overweight, old-ass cocksuckers who only know thrills where they shouldn't look."

I felt my flesh flush with rage. Every fiber in my muscles and the skin that covered them trembled. My mind was lost in absolute ebb as anger over came me. There was no response to what she said. My mind scrambled, stumbled, and shrugged at me. My tongue was a dead fish.

"Oh?" She chimed. "Sound like someone you know?"

My hands went to her shoulders and I threw her to the floor. The chair slipped into the desk. I heard her head hit the floor with a hard, very mean thud. Yvette's hand went to the back of her head instantly. Her voice emitted a gasp of pain, but I was beyond caring.

I was on top of her right away.

If I could've forced her through the floor to a death, I would have. I slammed my hands into her cheeks and forced them toward me. Her flat, sinister lips spread out for me in a lewd kiss of mockery.

My elbow smeared the black cotton of her top into her tit.

"Do what I say," Yvette spat at me through my hands. "Leave this... room!"

"BITCH!" I screamed down at her and my hands slipped to her ears. I felt my fingers grip her newly dyed locks and I slammed her head into the floor again. She didn't make a sound, but her blue eyes stayed wet.

One of her naked legs wrapped around my calf.

Her groin pushed up and into mine.

I was aware of an erection for the first time.

"I hate you!" I cried down at her almost lifeless blue eyes.

"Not all of you hates me," she hissed. I felt her black a-shirt rub my exposed pudgy belly. The belt of my pants dragged along her exposed white panties.

I felt the urgency of my cock. It had grown large, hard, and weighted. It was jealous of my belt's buckle because the buckle was rubbing my daughter's soft panties. My raging rammer, proud and thick and covered in rushing veins, was pinned in my pants. The fat knob of its head had found comfort between the band of my underwear and my lower belly.

I reached down and popped open my pants and buckle.

"Nice," Yvette cooed at me. "Just like old times. Except I'm not wet."

"Hey, Yvette," I drooled. "This is how the world ends."

She sneered at me and sucked in her teeth. Something in her eyes told me that I was already checkmated.

My hands reached between us and pulled her panties apart. I felt the cotton, the satin, silken threads of those panties burst open with my strength. Immediately, I grabbed my dense, bobbing cock and slammed the head into her dry pussy lips. I couldn't enter her.

She was totally devoid of moisture. No interest in sex.

Uncharacteristic, my brain registered.

I realized this wasn't a game. I was about to rape my own daughter.

And fuck her.

Yvette's hand reached down to touch herself. I smacked it away and forced the head of my chubby against her teasing folds.

Her head tilted away from me and her mouth grimaced in pain as I pushed. I felt her sandy well yield to my penetration. She pulled air through her nose. Layer after layer of her gravel pussy gave into me as I filled her. The head of my cock finally found moisture as I very nearly bottomed out.

"You're such a loser," she murmured.

I grunted and pulled back to ram her again. As I pulled back, I felt the impulsive moisture of her fuck sack give in.

"I told you to leave." She said simply.

"You knew I wouldn't."

She looked up at me and her eyes rocked upward with my downward thrust. "I knew you couldn't."

As her pussy grew more and more moist, I glared down at her. Her look was blank amusement. The face you see on a friend whose thinking of other things while you bear your soul. I could feel her heat massage my rod, but she wasn't betraying any arousal at all.

Her legs were flat. I fucked her slowly in the missionary position. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought that if I kept this up, I would trigger the fuck beast inside of her. I would wake my daughter and she'd admit the act.

I was certain that somehow this entire scene would end up like so many others we had shared.

I grabbed the low scoop of her black wife-beater and popped her tits out. They were big and full. Her right tit had a new bandage to cover the gash that happened when her nipple ring was torn out. The nipple ring on the left tit was golden and flat against the underside of it. Both breasts were covered in hickies. She'd obviously had some fun while I'd been put away. This just made me angrier.

I smacked her tits with my fingers. I watched the flesh bounce.

"You like this?" I prompted.

"I always like your cock, daddy." she said flatly. "'Just too bad what its attached to."

I slammed into her and could hear the slurp of her tight twat. My daughter's eyes fluttered lightly on her expressionless face. This betrayal of her pleasure made me thrust again. And again.

"Come in me daddy," she sighed. "Just get it over with."

"No! You're going to like this!"

"Daddy, no I won't."

"You like it this way!"

"Get off of me," she sighed.

"No! This is what you wanted for Nadia!"

Nadia was the church-going woman that my daughter had arranged to be raped.

"Is that all, daddy? You want me to like you again?"

I stopped and looked at her face. Her mascara had smeared from sweat and the sting of her wet eyes.

I thought about how I'd missed her high school graduation.

"Beg." She ordered me.

I swallowed and stared down at her. I looked at her wet eye make-up and her heaving, tanned titties. She kept her hips to the ground and gave all the movement of a store mannequin.

Every fiber of my mind didn't want to break for her. I kept my muscles tense, as if they could offer any line of resistance. I could feel her slurping, wet, glorious pussy wrapped around my member again. I had to have her again. I had to have her fucking me again. I didn't care if it was a game. I didn't even care if it couldn't be real.

I didn't even care if she got off on me anymore.

"Please, Yvette. Fuck me back."

"Why?" She said with mild interest, waiting for what I said back.

"Because I need it."

"There's other pussy." She narrowed her eyes.

"Not like yours."

I felt her raise her hips against my fat and solid shaft.

"What about mom?"

"I don't care. I don't care if she leaves me and you make me eat your shit every day for the rest of your life, I just have to put this in you."

"Ohhh, daddy. But don't you hate me?" She arched her back and dragged her slippery pocket down to pinch the head of my cock just right. I groaned at the pressure on my cock and gasped down at her.

"No, you hate me."

"That's right." She whispered up at me. "Get on your back, now daddy. Your baby girl's gonna fuck the shit out of you. You know why?"

"Because I begged."

"Good. Smart. You're about to get the greatest pity fuck in history."

I slipped out of my girl and got onto my back. Her hand went around my shaft and she shook it back and forth. "Make it harder, daddy..."

"You make it harder."

Yvette smirked down at me and leaned toward my face. Looking down at me through her half-opened eyelids she said to me, "you should have seen me last night, daddy. While you were rotting in jail? I went and saw some friends. They're like you, married and always wanting to fuck me."

I felt my pulsing cock throb in her hand as she clenched me.

"I hadn't seen 'em in awhile cause you and me have been fucking so much? A girl's gotta sleep, right?" She showed me her perfect teeth.

Her hand swiftly stroked my shaft as she spoke. I could feel my cock getting drier and drier as she rubbed away the moisture. She leaned back and spit on my cock. She spit again and stroked her saliva into the skin of my shaft.

"You think you like titties, daddy?" She chuckled and straddled my waist. "These mother fuckers know great tits when they see them." She pointed me at the place I wanted most --the place I'd begged to feel again. "They're not gay like you, daddy. They'll eat a titty. They'll gnaw a titty. You can see they left their marks on me," she indicated her heavy tits as they dangled over me. I could see the impressions of teeth and blood sucked up below the skin. There had to have been at least eight of those marks all over her breasts.

"And you know what they love more than anything? Fucking my tits."

She slithered over my shaft, gently rocking her hips like punctuation marks for her words. "Wanna know the best part, you little bitch? I don't know their names! And I don't know their faces." She laughed down at me and her hands went to my shoulders.

She then swiveled her hips in a powerful rotation. I could feel her hard clit press and squeeze against the underside of my white-hot helmet. Her eyes were closed as she thought of the night before. "I have nicknames for them. They call me little bo peep. They're lost sheep! Know what they make me wear?"

I stared up at her as she continued to rock her tightening pussy muscles against me. "Two of them. Oh god, daddy! I love it when one of them goes in my front and the other one puts it in my brown starfish, they know how to fuck your daughter, your sweet baby girl, daddy, sorry to say, you're big and all, but these guys make a girl come, oh fuck, I get so weak in the knees while they do me, my eyes are usually closed cause they feel so awesome, I get these flutters in my chest --under my tits, while they plow me!"

She sneered at me beneath her, "you know how I beg for your cum?"

"Well, I beg them not to come! I want it forever from them! My boys. My very married friends," she smiled down at me as she continued to fuck my ever hardening fuck knob. "One time I did one of them while his wife was watching TEE VEE. Just like I did you with mom watching TEE VEE, remember? Oh shit, that was yesterday, right? Yeah. Just like that. And just like mom, his dumb cunt wife was just a dumb cunt. I love it when I catch cum that belongs to someone else. He came in me so hard that I thought my brain would get smarter. The fuck snot of a genius!"

Her chin rose up and she swung her arm as if she were conducting an orchestra of memories. The smile on her face was the sort reserved for nostalgia and masturbation to the faces of old lovers.

"When I go over there, they put the cocaine out. When I go over there, I wear fur," she thrust her hips up and down on me. Her slick pussy swabbed and wet my widening shaft. I could feel my veins pulsing with heated, lustful, quaking cum. As she rocked on me, I felt that she was shaking the semen right out of the weakening pisshole in the penthouse of my shaft. I grabbed her hips in an effort to hold myself back. "That's right, daddy! I follow their orders!"

She raised her chin at the thought of that and moaned suddenly, "oh god, daddy. This is really good cock. Too bad you're such a fucking idiot. I'd love to snort coke off of your cock for once. It would be a hell of a big bump, if you get me."

"I would let you, " I moaned up at her.

"Hmmm," she mumbled. "You say that now." She then giggled. Her giggle was spurned on by a new thought that I could see cascade across her pitch-perfect blue eyes.

"But you're such a fucking dumb ass! It was perfect. The agreement was perfect!" She shouted down at me and I felt her fingers find my ballsac. Her fingers kneaded and released my balls. She alternated the attention and the speed as she fucked the hell out of me. "Don't tell me you don't feel stupid. I told you what would happen if you pissed on me. And I'm a girl of my word."

In the farthest echoes of my mind's eye, I agreed with every word. My heart moaned it's silent responses as she pointed out my faults. The pangs of regret dried my throat.

But I also knew that my daughter wasn't healthy. That my daughter was incapable of feeling anything I truly needed. My fantasy for her was the opposite of the coin in her pocket. I had once dreamed up a life for the two of us alone. That sort of suggestion would make my baby laugh until her sides hurt.

She reached between us and fingered her clit as she rode up and down on my hot shooter. I reached up and put a hand on her throat. My other hand knocked her fingers away from her clit. I could feel myself shaking as I pushed her backward. Her hands came up and grabbed my forearm. As she went backward, I came up, at the same rate.

"What are you planning?" I gulped at her.

She rubbed her chin on my wrist and opened her mouth at me. It was the sort of look she gave me when she was old enough to go on the "grown up" rides at a theme park.

Her legs stretched out on either side of me and I opened mine to make room for the small of her back. As I moved myself over my daughter, I kept my hand on her throat. I realized that I wanted silence from her. She must have understood because she just gripped my forearm and stared at me from beneath her black bangs.

I slipped my cock out of her and rubbed the head of my beast against her exposed hood. Yvette's tongue came out of her mouth in response. Her chin rose higher and higher each time I nudged her hard little flicker. And she bit at the air in response to each separate and deliberate touch.

Her crystalline blue eyes stayed on me. They fluttered behind their smudges as I slipped my full, vein stretched rammer into her again. I filled her slowly and she gasped at my slow motion speed.

My hand came off of her neck and I grabbed her shoulders. I yanked her upward and twisted her to her side. My long pussy puller stayed rooted inside of her as I switched the angle. My daughter raised her leg over my head so she could touch it to her other one. The resulting squeeze from her pussy and closed thighs made me shudder.

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