Under Her Control

"Fuck," he sucked in a breath through his teeth, "baby." He watched her, entranced as she licked her lips again. She had one hand braced on his shoulder and the other braced on the mattress by her calf; she arched her back and a shudder racked her supple body. He threw his own head back, the image of her bent backwards, undulating on his cock, nipples straining up to tease him, panned through his head behind his closed eyes. Nothing had ever felt so good. This type of sweetness could only precede death and since he certainly had never died before... "You're so wet."

His voice seemed to startle her from her reverie, she missed a step in her grind and her eyes rested uncertainly on him as she brought herself upright again. "Kiss me." She demanded. He complied. Their breaths locked with their lips and their tongues warred for maximum pleasure. She began to move on him again and he could hear the faint sounds caused by her wetness and their friction.

He couldn't take it anymore just when she seemed about ready to burst as well. Almost frantic, she tore her lips from his and looked down to guide her hand surely to his cock. She flipped her long golden hair over one shoulder and cocked her head to the side, a move that allowed him to see better as well. He saw her raise a knee off the bed, and greater still, felt the plump tip of his penis brush against the mouth of her. She settled it there and began to lower herself.

He heard his blood rushing in his ears. He was inside her. He groaned and she flashed him a heated glance before refocusing on her task. He was only about an inch in before her entire body started to tremble. When she whimpered and bit her lip he thought it was in ecstasy, but the frown on her brow and the unmistakable, gossamer barrier he felt himself brush against told him the true story. She was still a virgin.

He definitely couldn't do this. He couldn't be her first. This would make it not only wrong but heartbreaking. A girl's first time should be full of promise for the future. There was no promise in this, none except an illicit fuck in place of a beautiful experience.

She was suspended on him like that for what seemed like an eternity. She seemed to be weighing her options; she neither eased herself down nor tried to get off, she just gripped him with one hand and with one inch of her hot, tight cunt; he could feel her doing involuntary kegels all around him. Find your tongue, you fucker, he thought. "It's ok, it's ok." He sounded like a complete tool even to his own ears. It wasn't ok! He was trying to talk her out of sitting down when all his hips seemed to want to do was push up... up and in. Fuck!

"Aria, it's not too late." He said that when in reality he could feel himself near the edge already; he was leaking precum like a loose pipe... inside his baby girl. "We can stop now; your first time should be with someone you love." He'd never been more annoyed with his seasonal knack for cracking off platitudes.

She looked at him squarely and he wondered what it was she saw. He was a handsome man, he knew -- not in a conceited way, but one didn't live for forty-two years without knowing that your sandy-blonde, always slightly too-long hair and hazel eyes pulled women in like a shark to a line baited with baby seal. Was this what his daughter saw? Was it sexual attraction that had caused this? She'd never shown an inkling of it before a few days ago; he'd thought her kiss had just been out of a sad kind of jealousy. Was she seduced by his physical attractiveness, or was it about filial jealousy? Did it matter at this point? Whatever the reason he knew the outcome. Gone was any thought or rationale behind what she was doing because now it just felt too good stop. If he didn't want to stop, why the hell would she?

"Aaahh!" They both screamed together as she filled herself with him. In a matter of moments innocence had turned into sweetly sweet sin. They were a tangle of bodies as she clung to him, first to keep them both prone until the worst of her pain had passed, and then to anchor to him as she started to move, sliding him in and out of her in sporadic, inexperienced moves. Gone were the more fluid bends and arches of when she had been just playing at fucking him... but cock could do that to a woman.

And what pussy could do to a man! He would explode from pleasure... he knew it; his would be no ordinary cum. As jerky and green as her movements were, they still got the job done. He tried to help, driving himself up into her at every opportunity; but before long, saw that they were wasting more opportunities than they were creating. "Untie me," he demanded, his voice gruff and barely recognizable for the resident devil that had taken him over.

She looked at him uncertainly; it was obvious she was wondering if he was just trying to get away. There wasn't a snow-ball's chance in hell of that happening now. Now all he wanted was to grip her hips and guide them to mutual release. He bucked his hips into her, pleased at the gasp his effort elicited. "Untie me so I can fuck you properly."

She bit her bottom lip and groaned, his words obviously heightening her arousal. She hesitated only a few seconds more, until baser needs forced her hand and she reached over and undid the first of his restraints. His right arm free, he reached over and helped her loosen the next one, unmindful of the slight ache the release caused for the greater ache pulling away impatiently at his groin.

He scooped her up and plopped her on her back so quickly she yelped, and the sound turned into a strangled moan when he started to thrust in and out, each stroke greater, more urgent than the last. He reached out, more grateful for his hands than he would have ever imagined, and clasped her breasts, squeezing, marveling at their size and perfect, round shape. He pinched her nipples, all the while keeping his wicked pace and watching the play of ecstasy riot across her features. She'd gotten wetter since he'd been in control; there was an audible wet slap that filled the silence with its naughtiness each time he pushed into her. He looked down and saw a sticky web matting both their pubes where they were joined.

He leaned forward and took her into his mouth. He tried, God he tried, to fit her entire breast in but it was too big. He sucked, nipped, licked and nuzzled; each gesture drove his baby wild. She was writhing beneath him, moaning like a whore-house's best asset, and her arch off the bed was so pronounced as to lift them both until he was resting on his haunches. She sat on his lap in a variation of their first position, her knees folded at his hips. He guided her this time, using his hand and slowing them down to a deep, sensual rock that seduced him all over again. He kissed her, sweetly, as it should have been the first time.

"Oh, Daddy," she moaned. "I love you."

He kissed her again, demanding more this time, unwilling to face anything except what they were achieving with their bodies. His felt his orgasm coming from a mile away, it had been there for what seemed like hours, biding its time for when it would have the most devastating effect. As quickly as it formed, the idea of pulling out and spilling on her thighs was dispelled; perfection should not be truncated. "I'm gonna cum," he groaned against her neck. He could feel her body preparing for her own climax; her spasms were no longer perforated but were coming in such rapid succession it was like one long squeeze. She was crying out and he joined her as the first of his load left his body and landed in hers. For a few, immortal seconds, their frantic race for finish swept them into torrid movements that caused the bed to slam noisily against the wall. His moans had settled in his throat and Aria was shivering from her climax, her lips trembled below big blue-grey eyes full of wonder and fulfillment.

"Dad," she whispered. She cupped his face with a hand and would have kissed him but he turned away, pulling her up and off his lap. With the crash back to earth the sordidness of their situation came rampaging back to him in seismic waves.

"Dad?" she called again, more urgently this time, uncertainly.

He backed off the bed and grabbed his pants from the ground, dressing in such haste he was almost putting in both feet at the same time. Her blood was on the sheets, it had been on his penis. Oh God! "Get dressed," he managed. He couldn't find his shirt so he grabbed a clean one from his drawer and pulled it over his head. Aria hadn't moved from where he'd deposited her. "Jesus, Aria get up! Laurel could be home any minute now and I have to change these sheets."

She moved then, keeping her back to him as though to hide her face. Was she crying? he wondered. He honestly couldn't care right now. She had done this; she had wanted it; now he would have to clean it up. "Get dressed, go to your room and have a shower. You stay up there until Laurel gets home." He dragged the sheets off the bed and frowned when he noticed the red spot staining the mattress. "Shit!"

Dressed in her pants and jacket, her panties and camisole stuck into her jeans, Aria flushed at the sight of what she'd lost, stuck like so much damnable evidence to the bed. She rushed to the en-suite and brought a wet rag with soap and scrubbed at it determinedly. While she worked, Matthew took the stained white sheets down to the laundry and stuffed them into the washing machine. He turned on the hot water, added soap and bleach and shut the lid. Then, he rested his head on the dryer and tried to settle the noise in his head. What the fuck had just happened? Was he the guy that had just slept with his own daughter?

"Oh my God, Jesus Christ!" He'd become very religious on the same day he'd secured his seat on the bus to hell. He wasn't this person, he wasn't that guy! He was a respected author, a husband, a father... who'd taken his daughter's virginity. Fuck that shit! She'd taken his innocence! His hands had been literally tied. What man with a nineteen year old cunt sucking the seed out of him could have reacted differently? Use your head, he said to himself.

When he got back to his room he saw that Aria had left. There was a wet spot on the mattress where she had managed to get the stain out. He flipped the mattress over and put crisp sheets on; he'd tell Laurel that he'd rumpled the other set in his struggles. She'd buy it because he was slightly OCD about things like wrinkles. As he opened the window and sprayed Febreeze over everything he could reach in an attempt to get the smell of sex -- incestuous sex -- out of the air, he wondered how he was going to iron out the big fucking wrinkle that had just developed in his entire life.

End of part one.

Thank you for reading (and hopefully voting and commenting).

If anyone is interested in reading the other half of this tale, let me know and I just might oblige;)