by Duff ©
When Nicola went to find Donna, she wasn't where she had left her. She had two daiquiris in her hands. As she attempted to pass through the crowd, she spilled a little. She drank one and put down the empty glass. She was feeling ever so slightly drunk.
She was aware of the delicious warmth of the bodies around her, and musty smell of their sweat. She moved slowly, enjoying the accidental touches of flesh upon flesh. The sensuous sounds and humid atmosphere and the beautiful half-naked bodies were having their effect on her. Most of the people were taller than she was, and she could not see Donna anywhere, so she just stood in amongst a group, most of whom had their backs to her. She sipped her sweet drink. The kind stranger had chosen well.
In front of her a woman dressed as Marilyn Monroe had the top of her glittering silver dress pulled down to her waist, and an unusually tall man dressed as Zorro was pawing her pointed, perfectly formed tits. It was such an overwhelmingly sexual, nasty scene, Nicola's heart skipped a beat. Marilyn's pale full breasts and her soft pink nipples were suddenly the most beautiful things Nicola had seen.
Without thinking she put down her glass and pressed herself against the woman's back, kissing her skin softly with little pecks. Zorro smiled his encouragement. Nicola reached under the blonde's arms and grasped her perfect tits gently, the pawing Zorro removed his own hands to watch. Marilyn leant back onto Nicola, grateful for her gentleness. Zorro took the opportunity to undo his fly and take out his cock. Marilyn reached down and grasped him firmly, slowly masturbating her partner. Nicola moved around to her side and took her face into her hands and kissed her languidly, tasting her lipstick, flicking her tongue into her soft, yielding mouth. Marilyn sighed and fell back into Zorro's arms. Nicola moved on. Her senses were alight with passion and anticipation.
"Are you enjoying yourself Nicola ?" asked Mrs Townsend quietly.
"Oh, Mrs Townsend, you know who I am !" pouted Nicola.
Mrs Townsend smiled, "It's a knack I have."
"It's just...so...so...wonderful, Mrs Townsend ! So many sexy, beautiful people !"
"Well you go ahead and play darling. I see someone I need to greet. I believe it's the Major-General....Oh, Nicola, don't leave till I introduce you to a very special man. It means ...it means a lot to me. Very sexy. Alright, sweetheart ?"
"Okay, Mrs Townsend !" said Nicola cheerfully.
Everywhere now, couples and threesomes and groups were openly sexual. Polite conversation and given away to quietly spoken urgings and encouragement. In the main room there was a murmuring of quiet laughter and whispers. The men who were clever enough to wear loose costumes had their cocks out, some still flaccid, most in various stages of engorgement, several were rampant. Women had their hands under their dresses or in the cloaks, feeling themselves. Many were stroking and fondling their partners, cupping ball sacs, fondling breasts, licking the lips of men and women alike. Nicola's knees were weak watching the sensuality surrounding her. She moved hesitantly into the next room.
As if she had passed through a gate into another level, in this room the people had given themselves over completely and abandoned any pretence of restraint. Few people were completely dressed, many were quite naked. Some had pieces of clothing wrapped around them as if they had hurriedly stripped to get at each other. Two women were on the knees laving the monstrous cock of the porn star, their eyes bright with lust. Everywhere couples were fucking. Some urgently, close to coming, others slowly, some brutally. A man was tied to a bed, his arse being stuffed with a cucumber by a young girl who was grinning lasciviously and masturbating herself. A stunningly beautiful woman was on all fours being fucked in the arse while she sucked a cock greedily. Nicola noted that they had all obediently kept their masks on.
As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, she realised that in every corner there were heaving, groaning, mumbling bodies. With a frisson of excitement she saw Donna underneath a huge man, his wide muscular back rippling with effort. Donna was completely covered by this monstrous man. He made no effort to support his body, all his weight was on her slight frame. Nicola was at first fearful, but realised that her friend's legs were tightly wrapped around his buttocks, her fingernails scratching welts into his skin.
Nicola watched, fascinated, by his massive cock as it plunged in and out of Donna, greased and shimmering. It was all too much for Nicola, she collapsed into the velvet cushions of an armchair and hitched up her dress. She was not wearing panties and her white silk stockings framed her cunt perfectly. Her fingers played ecstatically with her labia and her clit, her hips began to thrust automatically onto her probing fingers.
"Ah! There you are darling."
Blearily, Nicola looked up. It was Mrs Townsend and her friendly smile. Perversely, Nicola did not even stop masturbating herself, such was her urgency for an orgasm.
"I can see you need some help. Now...who do we have ...? Of course ! The special man I wanted you to meet." She smiled.
She held out her hand for Nicola to take, "Come on sweetheart, come with me."
Dreamlike, Nicola took her hand and they went to walk out of the room. Mrs Townsend stopped and looked into the corner where her daughter was now on all fours, being fucked from behind by the huge man. Her mouth was gaping in a silent scream as she fucked back hard against his sliding cock. Mrs Townsend grinned widely and tugged Nicola's hand. "Come this way dear, I am sure I saw him over there."
The next room was similar to the one she had just left. A young woman was sitting on the divan, her legs drawn up against her chest, exposing her cunt to an bald, elderly gentleman who was lapping at her juices, his cock was surprisingly hard and swayed with his exertions. A generously proportioned lady with a soft maternal face was clutching a young boy to her large bosoms, cooing to him as he sucked hard on her nipples. Beneath the boy, and between his legs was a strong black man sucking the boy's cock and fingering his anus. Near the door two masked women were kissing passionately, they had smeared each other's bodies with oil and foodstuffs and wine and were sliding up and down, their arms, and legs and knees intertwined. Nicola was trembling with excitement and frustration.
"There he is !" exclaimed Mrs Townsend.
On the divan the medieval hangman with the hairy belly was stretched out. A young red headed woman was playing with his balls and pulling on his hard cock.
"Thankyou, Robyn, you're a real sweetie," said Mrs Townsend. Silently, the redhead slipped away. With a flick of her hand, Mrs Townsend signalled to someone to change the music to slow rhythmic romantic dance music.
"Executioner meet your new partner. Why don't you two dance ?"
"Merci madame," said Nicola, slipping into her role again.
The hangman pulled himself up from the divan and smiled. His hard cock jutted out awkwardly as he moved towards Nicola. Very gently he leant forward and kissed her softly on the lips, then both cheeks. His large hands found her waist and pulled her closer, then moved up to her bodice and carefully and confidently pulled her dress down to expose her breasts. The man kissed her again then bent over and licked both nipples and pecked on the beauty spot on the swell of her breast. Deftly, his hands moved down and eased her gown to the floor. Nicola stepped out of the crumpled pile and stood before him, naked except for her white stockings and stilettos.
He took her into his arms and with a little bob, he lowered himself so his fat cock slid between her legs, nestling perfectly along her moist slit. He embraced her closely, her breasts crushed against his wide hairy chest and pleasingly round belly. They began to sway to the slow beat of the music, his cock sliding in time with their movements along the unfolded groove of her cunt. Nicola reached up and hooked her arms around his neck, breathing in his musky cologne.
His strong arms caressed her skin and slid down under her buttocks and effortlessly lifted her up. He wrapped her legs around his back. Her cunt was completely exposed to his lifting cock. He lowered her slowly, the head of his penis butting into her welcoming wetness.
"Oh yessss," hissed Nicola, "Oh yes please..."
The man gradually relaxed his hold and she slowly sank onto his rigid shaft. She gripped his neck tightly, revelling in the fullness of the penetration. Her lips and mouth found his neck and she kissed and sucked his skin. Her legs locked around the small of his back, and she started her rhythmic movements up and down the entire length of his cock. The alcohol, the marijuana, the extremes of sexuality and the music and had tuned her body for this moment. Her nerve-endings were afire. She imagined her vagina was independently grabbing at his cock, massaging its length. Her nipples scraped against his chest and sent shocks of electricity through her spine.
"Aaah! M'mselle is so good," whispered the man into her ear.
"Oh M'sieur. I am yours. You may do as milord pleases," replied Nicola breathlessly, desperately trying to stay in character.
They both heard peals of ribald laughter in the next room and realised that except for two or three couples writhing on the floor, they were alone. Dimly, Nicola heard someone call that there were only a few minutes to go. The momentary puzzlement left her when he relaxed his grip and let her ride down completely onto his thick spongy pole, utterly filling her and nudging her cervix. She gasped partly in pain but more at the shocking enjoyment.
"Is my little girl okay ?" asked the man, genuine concern in his voice.
Nicola's heart skipped a beat. The familiarity of 'My little girl' echoed somewhere in her mind.
"Oui, monsieur, you give me pleasure."
They heard distant chimes above the chatter. A brief pause in the general hubub, then howls of laughter and squeals and shouts. It was 12 o'clock and time for the unmasking. There were more bellows and shrieks. A woman's voice moaned, "Oh god no, I was making love to my own husband !" followed by uproar.
The realisation that she was now fucking a complete stranger and in public triggered a shock of a little orgasm in Nicola. She mewled and groaned into the man's neck and pushed down hard onto his cock as far as it would go.
He lifted her up with his powerful hands and the friction sent further waves through her. Her legs locked tighter, knowing that she was about to lose control. Her muscles tightened in her tummy, and her vagina spasmed. She was being lifted up and plunged down repeatedly, the man's cock was no longer warm and spongy but steel-hard and angry. His breath was rasping.
Nicola found his lips and kissed him, frantic with desire. Her tongue mashed against his, washing his teeth in saliva, exploring him, letting his tongue chase hers filling her mouth just as his cock was filling her cunt. They were both groaning and pawing at each other's flesh, hurting each other, pinching and grabbing.
Although her eyes were tightly shut, anticipating a shattering orgasm, Nicola became aware of a movement beside her. She opened her eyes - it was the smiling Mrs Townsend.
She rested a hand on Nicola's back riding her up and down, feeling her knotted back muscles. Her other hand moved to the back of the hangman's hood and she skilfully undid the strings and eased it from his head.
"What a sexy rogue you are, George Jensen, and what exquisite taste you have in young women."
Nicola's mind and body separated. For a fleeting moment madness gripped her. The world spun, cold sweat poured from her body. Her father ! Her daddy ! She was being fucked by....her reason refused to let her understand. A dream ! Drugs ! It was not possible.
Her father's sweaty, reddening face was in front of her. His strong hands were gripping her buttocks. His cock was........From deep within her soul, from the bowels of her being, a low agonised moan erupted from Nicola's throat.
And Mrs Townsend continued smiling, still urging her body to move up and down, up and down on the delicious fat cock she was riding.
Her body and mind. Panic and revulsion and fear swept through her one after the other. But her body yearned so much for the sweet release. Electricity tripped through veins more powerfully than any drug. Animal lust focussed only on her clit and the pulsing walls of her cunt.
The face in front of her. Handsome, kind, gentle, trusting daddy. Fucking his daughter. Not knowing it. Thrusting insistently into his little girl. Cum boiling in him, his seething seed bursting to be loose. Nicola's groan changed and a noiseless shriek shook the very essence of her spirit. Incest !
Tears of shame and confusion welled in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. Still her legs gripped his back, still she rode his cock. His thick, hard, beautiful cock.
Her father saw the turmoil, "Are you okay, sweetheart ?"
Nicola could not speak, the salty tears streamed down her face, smudging her mascara making her look even more bruised and vulnerable. She nestled into his neck and hugged him closer.
Mrs Townsend had moved behind her, both hands on Nicola's hips, pulling her up, and pushing her down. She was breathing raggedly.
"Well, darling, ARE you okay ?" she asked.
Nicola did not respond. She sank deeply onto her father's shaft and willed herself to stop this madness.
"Do you want to keep fucking him ? Do you want him to stop ?"
Mrs Townsend pushed onto Nicola's soft buttocks and shifted her a little. Just an inch. Then eased her down again. Urging the rhythm to start again. Nicola whimpered as she felt her body betray her. She used her legs to lever herself higher and allowed Mrs Townsend to pull her down again. Nicola tried to convince herself she was fighting it.
Mrs Townsend leaned into Nicola's back, her lips pressed up against her ear. "I will help you darling," she whispered. Seductive kindness and gentleness. She pushed Nicola again, this time further up her father's iron cock and held her there, then let her fall. Nicola sighed and shuddered. Again Mrs Townsend helped her, easing her higher, letting her fall. The next time it was hardly necessary, Nicola lifted herself up and hovered on her father's cock, and lifted herself higher so his head almost left her, then she slowly let herself go again. Mrs Townsend replaced her own hands with those of George.
"I think she's fine now, I think she really wants it."
Nicola entwined her fingers in her father's hair and braced herself against his body. Despite her turmoil and her tears and the panic, her body had dammed a wave of searing, insistent energy. Blood pumped through her cunt, the muscles pulsed of their own accord. Goosebumps puckered her hardened nipples. Nicola leaned back and through her tears she saw her sweet, strong father's face contorted with anxiety and lust.
"Are you going to fuck him now ?" persisted Mrs Townsend.
Nicola nodded. A tear loosed itself and burned her breast.
"Are you going to let his hard cock plunge into your cunt ?" hissed Mrs Townsend.
Nicola whimpered and rested her head against her father's chest, nuzzling into his neck. Her resolve was exhausted. Sweet surrender, sweet release.
"His fat cock is in your tight cunt," sang Mrs Townsend softly, "and it feels so nice, so right."
George was in control now. His own needs had to be met. The frothing cum was churning in his balls, his cock reaching out, stretching into her tight cunt.
Mrs Townsend leaned even closer to Nicola's ear and in the quietest whisper said, "He's going to fuck his little girl. His big fat cock is in your cunt, and you are enjoying it. You want to feel his cock pump into you. You want his cum."
Nicola trembled and little quivers rippled her body. Wracking sobs shook her shoulders. She climbed closer into the wet warmth of her father's body, hugging him. Loving him.
"Yes, I want it."
"What do you want, dear ?"
"I want his cock," she mumbled into her daddy's chest, spittle drooling from her mouth.
"What else do you want, dear ?" Mrs Townsend's voice was caring, even maternal.
"I want his cum inside me", sobbed Nicola.
Somewhere inside her demons had released themselves, dark and forbidden desires came to the surface.
"Ooooh !" cried Nicola as a spasm of delight flashed in her cunt. It was more than the frenetic pumping of the cock now, more than the luscious feel of the penetrating shaft. It was the idea. The taboo. Incest. It WAS her father, not a stranger, it WAS her sweet daddy fucking her. He filled her. His cock was jamming into her. Her daddy was going to cum inside his little girl.
"Aahhhh ! Oh please god, yes ! I want his cum inside me," she shouted.
The wave was releasing itself. She had no control. Her cunt relaxed and tightened and gripped and somewhere deep inside her something broke and filled her with unimaginable sensations. Her brain turned colours into sounds and sounds into sweeping emotions of desire and release and love and forgiveness and welcome. Nicola clawed her father's back, ripping his skin with her nails. Her legs stiffened. A great tremor ripped through her body.
"Yes ! YES !" said Mrs Townsend, her eyes ablaze, "I know how it feels dear. I KNOW. Oh sweet jesus it's so good isn't it !"
Nicola nodded into her father's neck. She was nearly spent. He had to hold her entirely by himself now. He fucked into the limp body, teeth gritted, eyes clenched. His cock so taut it hurt him. George could not explain his feelings. Something about the smell, something about her vulnerability, he seemed to feel love come flooding from the young woman's twitching, trembling body.
"Oh he's going to do it !" beamed Mrs Townsend, "His cum is going to stream into you. His seed will be in your womb."
"AAARGH! YES!" yelled Nicola, "OH GOD YES !"
He heaved furiously into Nicola, cum roped out of him and washed the walls of her cunt. Long spurts of intense pleasure followed pulsing thrusts of his hips. His violence frightened him, the urgency and delirium overwhelmed him. His knees gave away and they sank to the floor, Nicola's legs unlocking and spread wide, letting her father take her completely. His weight was crushing and comforting. She felt his sperm in her. She felt her cunt relish and absorb the thick life-giving cum. She was on another plane of acceptance and understanding.
Mrs Townsend brushed away a strand of sweat-soaked hair and smiled. She, too, had tears in her eyes.
"Thankyou", was all Nicola could say to her.
Nicola lay in bed for a long, long time the next morning. The warm autumn sun streamed into her room. Her body ached deliciously. There were bruises on her arms and her lips were tender. Everything was remembered with such clarity, but everything was surreal. She felt her puffy cunt and allowed the emotions and sensations wash over again. And he didn't even know it was her ! She hugged herself and almost giggled. Even afterwards in the lazy lethargic aftermath when he had kissed her long and deeply and gently, and plucked at her nipples and whispered sweet endearments, he didn't know he had just fucked his little girl !
Nicola sprang out of bed. She had never felt so alive. She took a hand mirror and checked her face again for any signs of the thick makeup. It had taken ages to paste on, and almost as long to scrub off last night. Thank god daddy stayed on for drinks she thought. She had taken particular care to hide her gown and stockings and shoes. She examined herself in the mirror, holding it close. She was completely clean. She smiled. Clean !! This time she did giggle. Incest girl. Father fucker. The words were meaningless and at the same time wonderfully, miraculously true. It was a secret she could nurse for the rest of her life.
She skipped down to the kitchen where her father was hunched over the newspaper. Only twenty-four hours ago it was like this, thought Nicola.
"Hello tubby", she called.
She had her back to him as she prepared her breakfast.
"Did you have a good time at the Club last night, daddy ?" She was smiling broadly, looking out onto the yard.
"Yes," said George, "Yes, it was very good. And your party ?"
He turned a page of his paper.
"The best," she said, leaning over to the table to get some butter.
She was ravenously hungry and fussed over her cereal and toast, cutting up some fruit and humming tunelessly.
When she looked up, her father had gone.
Puzzled, she looked down the hallway and peered into the lounge. He was no-where to be seen. She shrugged and picked up the paper he had left on the table and read for a while.
She took the dishes to the sink and looked into the bright blue sky and watched a bird flitting to and fro. She followed it from branch to branch and then onto the garden table. Where her father was sitting, perfectly still. His bright pyjamas incongruously colourful against the dark green lawn. She shrugged and went to change.
What Nicola didn't know, and never would know was that she had not been quite as careful as she had thought.
When she had reached over the butter, George had glanced up. His eyes appreciating the deep cleavage of her daughter's breasts in an objective, aesthetic, paternal sort of way.
And then a stab of lightning had pierced his heart. Blood drained from his face. His forehead and chest immediately bathed in sweat. While Nicola busied herself with breakfast all his willpower was needed to move his legs, straighten them, tell them to walk away. He wanted to faint, to collapse into a ball. To weep.
When he looked at the smooth roundness, the sweet tanned swelling of his daughter's breast he saw the beauty spot which had been so carefully and indelibly drawn, but had been forgotten about.
|Another top quality story by Duff.|
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