Temptation's Contrition

bya_bent_ampersand©

I wondered why Yvette was this woman. What had I done wrong to lead her down this strange, sexually dominating path? Had I failed her? Her smoking and her tattoos pre-dated any legal age, but she'd done it all anyway. For the first time since she seduced me, I saw her as my true daughter and the revelation made me quake. I thought that maybe it wasn't my fault, but she had somehow embodied all of my moral weakness and immoral thirst. Perhaps that was why sex with her was so perfect --it was sex with the worst of myself.

Or was it the best of myself? I handed her the cigarette.

Yvette had realized long ago that all she had to offer this world was her superior sexual appetite. And she seemed pretty happy with that. But why did it have to be so mean? There were many examples of it. Her degrading mouth. The multi-media text messages of her fucking my enemy. Drinking her piss. Forcing a man to rape. Tonguing her ass. Cumming on her sleeping mother. What was it about all the darkness that got her rocks off?

As her slave, I was forbidden to know.

But as her father, I felt it was necessary to ask.

I stopped the car in front of the church and she opened the van's door.

"Let me guess," she shrugged bemusedly, "it's a non-smoking church?"

She tossed her cigarette into the pouring rain and stepped out after it.

I followed.

There were no cars parked at the church, but it was unlocked.

The pouring rain had made Yvette's white satin practically see-through as I looked at her in the light of the temple. The tint of her skin glowed in wet patches and her hips swayed between the pews on her way to the stone altar before the pulpit. There were dozens of candles lit before the empty congregation.

"Where the fuck is he?" Yvette shouted. Her voice echoed in the wide open room. Faintly, the rap music from ears could be heard with a similar echo. Her wet satin breasts demonstrated her tan hue and just a touch of gold under each nipple.

I collapsed in the forward-most pew.

She stood in front of the pulpit, but it was her white high heels made her even taller.

"This is bullshit," she sighed and removed a cigarette from her purse.

"Yvette," I said softly.

She lit her cigarette on a candle and blew smoke into the House of God.

"It's because you made me late..." She said, not looking at me.

"Yvette!" I shouted.

And now it was my echo that carried.

She looked at me oddly, like a kitten that saw the sheets move. Her hand pulled her earbuds out of her ears, but she held her ground.

"I...I..." I stammered as her crystal blue eyes bore through me from on high. "Can... can we talk?"

She blew smoke down over her body and let her lips put on a show of amusement.

"You want to change the deal?"

"No. No." I said shortly. "The deal is great. I fucking love the deal. The deal... the deal has made me feel more manly in the last week than I've felt since... since I first jacked off to Penthouse."

"Good. Because you can't change the deal. Only I can."

"What do you mean I can't change—"

"Kyle. If you... defy me. If you piss me off? I will destroy you."

Her eyes were cold, simple, and final. I got goose bumps as she glared at me from behind her cigarette. What did she mean by that? This wasn't the conversation I wanted to have!

"This isn't about—"

"You've been a great boy so far, Kyle, father, daddy..." she said lowly, smoke rolling down from her nose. "I have no complaints. You take your punishment and you take it like a man. You haven't fucked mom—"

"How do you know?" I blurted. I had to bait her.

"I would know." She said finally. "Kyle. I would know."

If I had goose bumps before, now I had chills.

"But... I don't want to talk about the deal."

"There's nothing but the deal. For you."

I stood up and approached her slowly. "There's you."

"Don't ask about me."

"Yvette, baby, I want to ask you—"

"Don't. I told you 'don't.' Don't deny me!"

I froze in my tracks and my hand reached out to her.

"Baby..." I said, my voice just over a whisper.

My full grown, baby girl had a tear going down her cheek and she took a step back. She set her cigarette on the pulpit with an absent mind. She turned her face away, maybe to hide this vulnerability.

"Baby, please... I love you." I gasped with tears of my own welling up.

"Love is for flat dicks."

She held a hand out toward me and motioned me forward.

I approached with heavy, uncertain footing. My eyes were amiss in the candle light.

Yvette faced me with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were filled with rage.

"Take off my dress."

This was suddenly the last thing I wanted to hear.

"Come on!" Her voice screeched and echoed off of the stained glass.

I put my fingers on her shoulders and slipped the straps down over her arms. My fingertips brought the fabric down over her smooth, tanned skin. The scoop that held her left breast dropped. The right was shown immediately afterward. I ignored her chest and held her furious gaze. My hands forced the satin down over her hips and the material dropped down around her ankles.

All she had now were her white high heels.

"Gonna fuck me now, daddy?" She spat at me.

"Only if you make me."

Her cigarette had burned itself out on the pulpit --leaving a long ash and a burn in the construction.

"Fuck me then." She said with her blue eyes wet like a reflection in a pond.

I didn't move.

Her hands flew to my face and she squished my cheeks together. I ignored the pain of it as she forced my tongue out from my lips. She brought her wet cheeks to my face and smeared her lipstick against me. "Fuck me. Fuck me. I am telling you... what to do..." There was no kiss to be had, just unbridled hatred.

My hands went to her hips and she released my face.

Her lips went to my ear and I felt her teeth pull down on my earlobe. Her tongue darted out and whipped all over my inner ear, panting and desperate.

I pulled away from her.

Her full, naked chest heaved before me and I knelt slowly before her. My hands traced her hips and her outer thigh. I brought my fingers around the backs of her calves until I was touching her ankles.

And then I unbuckled her shoes.

I could feel her eyes bearing down on the back of my head.

I lifted her left foot from her shoe and set it onto the altar before the pulpit. I did the right foot with similar grace and my only daughter was completely naked now. The only sound was our breathing. Hers was sick with shaking and mine was determined.

I raised my nose upward and touched my nose to her inner thigh. I dragged my teeth upward, combing her tanned flesh. I heard her sigh and I felt her hands go to the back of my head. There was a tenderness to her touch that I had never experienced as her fingers delicately stroked my short hair.

"Eat me, daddy... eat me pussy..."

From this position, I could smell her pussy, but it didn't seem particularly wet. My nose nudged the dry folds of her pussy lips. I kissed just below her clit. I only found anything inviting deep inside and protected. But I couldn't pursue that without my fingers. My daughter's twat was sapless.

I withdrew and looked up at her.

Her face seemed so innocent and curious. There was only a hint of a dominating bitch trapped behind her wide, perfect blue eyes. I saw her mind make an adjustment and she sat down on top of the stone altar, her tanned ass the greatest offering given to this church.

"This is cold." She joked

I gazed up at her naked legs and she opened them wide for me. Her fingers parted her pussy lips and her neck slouched to invite me. Her perfectly pink folds were opened wide for me and I crawled toward her. On my knees, it was a perfect kiss.

I touched my tongue to her insides and closed my eyes. I touched to the left of her and to the right of her. I lifted my tongue to urge her little man to make her wet. But she wasn't exciting her at all. I touched a finger to her and forced it into her. She gasped. My finger felt her cooch compensate for the dryness, but my lips couldn't find the same.

I leaned back to look up at her.

Fat tears fell from her chin and between her breasts.

"I love you, Yvette..." I whispered. "I love you."

She said nothing. She only pushed my face back to her pussy.

"I love you," I repeated and touched my tongue to her again. I felt her acrid flavor let loose of her walls. I mouthed the words "I love you" and I found my tongue getting sloshed with her most gracious, physical response. My daughter got wet for me. I joined my efforts with two fingers from each hand to force her lips apart and penetrate her as fully as I could. The work was rewarded with Yvette's sweetest warmed syrup. My tongue, lips, and fingers found equilibrium as I tried to show my baby girl how much I loved her.

Her hands gripped my balding hair and pulled with demanding encouragement. Yvette raised her thighs around my cheeks and I felt her back arch as she fucked my face there on the altar. Her breathing soared, catching up with itself, and I knew she was approaching orgasm.

And then she shoved me away.

"Take off your pants!" She shouted as she joined me on the floor.

I unbuckled myself slowly, as if I was missing the timing of the song. Her hands helped mine desperately. She shoved my pants down while the zipper was still up. My limp cock rested long over my very hairy balls.

Immediately, Yvette's mouth took in the full amount of my meat. I felt my dick fold over itself and twist to fill her cheeks. She gulped and sucked, but I couldn't feel any result. She released my dork and I saw the string of her hungry saliva go to my dormant member. Her hands went to it and squeezed. She stroked me aggressively.

I realized the erection wasn't going to happen. And so did she.

"Goddammit!" She shrieked.

I sat up and put my arms around her. She refused to give up. Her hands redoubled their efforts. I felt her squeeze my balls and her palms chafe my puddy.

"Let go. Let go of it, Yvette..." I pleaded.

"Don't tell me..." She hissed. "...you don't tell me!"

I rolled the two of us onto our sides. I was gripping her from behind.

Her hands slipped from my cock. She put her left thumb into her mouth.

I held my nude daughter on the church floor; my impotent prick's head was low on her thigh. I could feel her in my arms, radiating anger, and sucking her thumb.

I touched my nose to her hair and slipped it from her ear. With her earlobe exposed, I sucked it between my lips. I moved a hand around to the thumb in her mouth and I pulled it from her lips. She whimpered a protest. And then both of her hands grabbed mine and smeared them over her tits. My palms rubbed her pouting nipples and her dangling rings.

"...make it hard, papa..." she breathed.

She hadn't used 'papa' for years. Couldn't even say when was the last time. How could I not know something like that? Maybe my moral lapses were worse than all of this adultery and incest. Maybe, in my soul, I fathered Yvette to become exactly like my own unkind, selfish soul.

"...make it hard for me, papa..."

"...I love you, sweetheart..." I found myself using the nickname I hadn't used for her since that time. I kissed her neck.

"...I want it hard, papa... make it hard..."

"...I love you..."

From this position, I was convinced that my confession was the latest bad punch line in a long running joke for Yvette. I don't think the girl believed in love. I was pretty sure she'd written the concept off. And I felt guilty for endorsing her point of view by taking her pussy so many times. This introspective moment was shattered when she contradicted my theory.

"...I love you too, papa..." she said. Her head turned abruptly to look me in the eyes. Her mascara was washed by tears now and her lipstick was a joke. Her wet eyes seemed unable to focus on me as she comprehended her words. She put her hand around my neck to hold my face down so she could kiss me. It was a wet, sloppy kiss. I felt her tongue shove passed my teeth and wriggle with the misdirection of a virgin.

My cock --hard as steel-- slid into her from behind.

She shook against me as I filled her pussy so deep in one slice. Her eyes held mine and they were the eyes of my best little girl --the girl who got first place at the spelling bee, the girl turned down for cheerleader, the girl who broke her front tooth while ice skating.

And my dick was balls deep in her.

"...oh, papa..." she slurred, breaking my gaze. "...I've been so bad..."

"I've been bad too, sweetheart..." I pulled back and pushed into her again.

She rolled onto her chest and that forced me to be above her.

"Let's be bad together, papa, okay..?"

Yvette was now flat on her belly, her tits smashed into the floor. With her legs so close together, my hard on was treated to her tightest scenario. I withdrew slowly, letting her feel the whole yard. She yelped, feeling the loss of her papa's great link. I saw the helmet of my beast beneath me, still being held by my sweetheart's pudgy petals --it was purple and fat. The shaft was thick with blood and veins, slick with my girl's generous juice.

And I gave it all back as I set my legs on either side of hers.

"I love you... Yvette... tell me to stop saying it..."

She gasped as my length filled her.

"I love you..." I repeated. "...if you tell me to, I won't say it..."

I felt her muscles squeeze my length and I withdrew only to please her again.

"When I pull out, sweetheart... I want you to flip over."

"Why, papa?" My nineteen year-old asked with a childish voice.

"I want to see your beautiful face."

I brought my cock out and Yvette turned over. Her tanned body was spread out before me. The body of a woman was in front of me --it was bronzed, slim, and damp with sweat. The D-Cup breasts on her chest were flattened by gravity, nipples stabbing like the steeple high above us. She touched her foot to my cock and gave a giggle. I crawled between her legs and slid myself into her again.

"...feels so good, papa..."

Her hands went to my neck and her legs wrapped around my ass.

"I know, sweetheart... I know..."

I couldn't tell if this was Yvette or some strange, split personality. But as I moved in and out of her, I wanted more than her body... I wanted her to confide in me. I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to be her dad. Why hadn't she let me in?

This last question made me thrust into her harder and she yelped.

I felt my rod drag up and down against the nub of her clit. Her shout encouraged me to pick up the pace. I wanted to drive my point home. I resented her. I lusted for her. I'd found strength in her and I wanted to destroy that strength. My hips rose and fell between her thighs with aggression. I stopped making love to my daughter and I started fucking her.

"Oh..!" She cried out. "...papa...it feels so good! It's so big!"

"I love you, Yvette!" I grunted.

"Do it like that!" She panted. "I like it like this! I like it hard. I like it so hard, papa..."

I felt beads of sweat building on my face and chest. With my pants around my thighs, I gave into the feelings of my balls and the thirst of my cock. The heat from her running sap became that of my familiar whore and I gave as good as I got.

She moved her hips against my efforts, compounding our needs. I watched her lips drop open to praise her chest with more glorious air. The breath below my face was stained in tears, nicotine, and just a touch of whiskey.

I heard her breath get tainted by her voice as she grunted and gasped. The sounds of our passion filled the hall of the church. Our movements were rising and falling with a burden of absolute lust. Her sweaty needs challenged me and I responded in kind. The two of us fucked on the floor of god's castle as hard as we could. As our passion mounted, we ignored each others' eyes, giving into the absolute concentration of a perfect orgasm.

And then it happened for her.

I felt her back beneath me go flat as a board as her thighs contracted over my ass. Her head twisted on her neck as she breathed in sharply. She breathed in again. Her breath grew shorter as she chased the feeling my cock had brought her. I glimpsed her breasts trembling with the efforts of her lungs. I felt her pussy at its widest, an open pocket waiting to be filled.

"Make... our... bay...bee... pa...pa..." She gasped out.

My cum burned its way out of me and exploded into her womb. I felt gush after gush slam into her open, dripping walls as my hands clenched her rock-hard ass. I cried out as I offered even more of my seed to her hungry, needy pussy. Each burst grabbed at her insides, happy to be home.

I collapsed on her heaving chest.

My cock rested in her pussy.

My daughter only breathed beneath me.

I could have stayed there for hours, but I knew that I couldn't. I knew that this wasn't being a good father. I knew that if I had a question for her, now was the time to ask.

I wasn't sure how to phrase the question. I realized it was probably more than one question. But as my dick softened inside of her, I wondered if I could ask and still respect her rules. I briefly considered whether or not it was even important for me to respect the rules.

If I broke the rules, she'd never have me again --that was absolutely certain.

But could she actually destroy me?

"Yvette..?" I asked quietly.

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