It was 4am when Jacob heard the back door click shut. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in the armchair he'd fallen asleep in. He knew that Trista, his daughter, was sneaking up the back stairs to her room, as quietly as she could in high heels, and too drunk to remember to remove them. He shook his head, this was the second time this weekend he'd waited up for her but not had the heart to get into another screaming match. He sat silently, listening to her platform shoes click softly on the wooden stairs, until he was certain she was in her room. He got up then, and went to the kitchen, shutting off lights as he went. After a glass of water and some aspirin, Jacob heard Trista in her bathroom, throwing up into the toilet. He shook his head and grabbed a few kitchen towels before starting to climb the stairs.
Trista wasn't a bad kid, she was going through a rough period in her life just now. Her mom had run off with some biker she'd met a bar nine months ago and never called or let them know where she was or if she was even alive. About then, Trista started hanging out with a rough crowd of her own, stopped thinking about college, and started getting drunk every night. She was barely making it through her last year of high school, and Jacob could figure out no way of helping her that she hadn't already tried. He was drinking more these days, too - nothing better to do at night when you're sitting alone, wishing a good woman was there to wrap her arms around you, settling instead for internet porn and beer.
As he rounded the stairs to Trista's room and adjoining bathroom, Jacob was greeted with a beautiful sight. Trista, her makeup washed off and face scrubbed clean, her hair hanging down in sweaty tendrils, resting on all fours in front of the sink. It looked like she had made it halfway up, but couldn't find the strength to actually stand. Jacob took a moment, admiring the curves of her body - only admiring, mind you, he wasn't a pervert - thinking of what a beautiful child he'd helped to create. It was then his cock noticed what he was looking at, too. Jumping to attention, it was his cock, not him, who noticed the tightness of her ass, and the way her lips were parted and moist. It was his cock who noticed her firm tight breasts pressing against the black mesh of her top, pert and steady without a bra. It was his cock who noticed her achingly long legs that led into her black vinyl skirt, caressing the edges of a crimson thong.
Jacob knew his cock had noticed Trista for a long time. He ignored it, divorced those feelings from his own, personified his penis in such a way that he felt no guilt for the raging hardons his daughter gave him, but only a mild distaste for what his other personality, his penis, lusted after. Ever since her mother had left them both though, it had been harder and harder to silence the voice of his cock inside his head.
"Look at her, bent over like a little slut, I bet she's had guys in all those hot wet little holes. She drinks enough, she might not even notice one more..."
Jacob cleared his throat, both as a way of announcing himself, and to silence the hideous whisper inside him. Trista turned her head only briefly before lunging at the toilet again, her lunch joining her dinner where it would do her no further good. Jacob leaned over his precious baby girl, wet towel in hand, and held her hair back off her neck. Soon, it was over and in his arms was just a sobbing mass of girl. He held her close, smoothing her hair and letting her cry into his shoulder. They sat like that, on the floor of her bathroom for a few moments, father and daughter, exhausted but together. Then, Jacob realized his cock was awake again. In only a second, he had gone from father to molester as he realized under her soft, trusting body, he had grown harder than iron, and his hips wanted desperately to press upwards into her. He held his breath, willing Trista to not notice, and edged her off his lap slowly.
"Bedtime, Princess," he cooed quietly. She stood up wobbly, and he couldn't help but glance at her toned thighs, her little tummy, and her long black hair. She yawned, and his skin tingled as he glimpsed that pink little tongue dart in and out of her mouth. He took her to her bedroom and sat her on the bed, leaning over to slide off her shoes. He didn't dare stare anywhere but at her little pink toes, fearing his own body's betrayal if he did.
Jacob wasn't a bad looking man, in any way. 6'2", still fairly muscular, he kept in shape doing construction work for a private contracting company he owned. He was only 35, as he and his ex-wife had been high school sweethearts, marrying as soon as they graduated. He had gone to night school and worked during the day, and she had stayed home with Trista, preferring instead to telemarket from there, and help make ends meet. In spite of not having much, they had been happy for a long time. At least, until Trista reached school age. After then, her mother seemed to lose interest in their little family unit, pulling away and going on long vacations by herself, visiting old friends who lived far away, and, Jacob suspected, meeting as many lovers as she could. Until Trista's 18th birthday, though, she had never dared to leave their family entirely. It had come as a hard lesson to Trista, who had always believed that her mother would settle down, and was just a free spirit. When she realized that it would never happen, and her mother was never coming home, Trista started following in her footsteps as fast as her legs could carry her.
Trista's snoring jolted Jacob out of his reverie, and he realized he was sitting on her floor, her shoes next to him, rubbing her feet gently. He used to rub her mother's feet like that. It used to put her to sleep, too. Jacob wanted to lay his head down and cry, but propriety prevented him from doing that in his child's room. He stood quietly, his spine making popping sounds as it straightened, and looked once more at Trista, sleeping soundly on her bed. Her legs were spread slightly, just relaxed and dead weight. Her arms were resting above her head, as though she had begun to stretch and fallen asleep mid-yawn. Jacob didn't even notice the dark whisper that started in the back of his mind.
"Just undress the child and slide her into bed. She'll be more comfortable that way, won't wake up with numb arms and her cute little vinyl skirt all creased. She's only going to tell me to pay the dry cleaning bill anyway. Don't I deserve to see a little of what all that clothing covers?" Jacob's palms were sweating by this time, and he had moved to the side of her bed, his fingers curled and poised to unzip her skirt and gently tug off her top. Somehow, this didn't seem wrong.
Her skirt made a gentle shushing noise as it slid off her hips and down her legs, and as he pulled it lower he caught the scent of her pussy, sweet and musky and needy. Unfucked, at least tonight. Jacob felt his mouth water, his tongue almost loll past his lips. His cock was rock hard and he felt his pulse pound in his head. His hands moved up to the hem of her top - black lace mesh trimmed in silk and satin. It had been a birthday present from one of her friends, a million years ago at her 18th birthday party. He lifted it carefully over her breasts, letting each one slide out slowly, only a slight bounce bringing them to life. Her nipples were only the size of a quarter, the aureole a pale brown, almost pink. His cock strained against the zipper on his pants, causing him serious discomfort. He stopped for a moment and tried to readjust himself, but her body was still in front of him, and his eyes would not close. Quickly, Jacob pulled her shirt the rest of the way off, holding his breath in the hopes that she wouldn't awaken, and left the room without even covering her.
Back in his own bedroom, Jacob sat down and breathed heavily. The image of Trista's breasts, sitting there like two halves of a grapefruit, begging to have him swallow them slowly, piece by piece, refused to leave his mind's eye. As he leaned back on his bed, he unconsciously pulled his fly open, and his cock slipped into his hand. He stroked slowly, wanting to savor the taste of those pale breasts for as long as possible. But as usual, as soon as things got started, his cock took over again.
"Swallow those little titties whole and I'll never have my chance to shove my prick between them and slide it around, closer to her mouth. That sweet little pink tongue lapping at me, that soft wet velvet as she'd start to suck, my little girl with my prick buried to the hilt down her throat, fucking her slutty little mouth faster and faster, those sweet little lips sucking harder, grabbing those tits and making her moan around me..."
Jacob almost screamed like a woman as Trista's voice interrupted his half-lidded visions of her mouth and breasts. He was only half-covered by his blanket, and even then he was sure she'd know what he had been thinking.
"What is it sweetheart? Daddy's tired," he tried to play up his paternal side and ignore the fact that she looked like a vision, having changed into an oversized white tshirt and little white ankle socks. She crossed the room to him and with what seemed like superhuman strength, he managed not to lash out and grab her to drag her into bed for him to rape over and over. His will was beginning to crack. Trista sat down on the corner of his bed behind him, and curled up in a fetal position, throwing one arm across his ribs.
"It's cold in my room, Daddy, I can't sleep. I know I'm too big and old, but can I sleep in here with you, just this once?"
Jacob used the last of his will to smile reassuringly at his little girl before he rolled over and tucked her in next to him.
"Don't you worry, sweetheart - my Princess will never be too big or old to cuddle up to her old man," Trista sighed and snuggled in happily, her breath fresh from being brushed, no trace of alcohol or vomit anywhere. The alcohol was still in her though, and almost immediately she fell asleep. Jacob lay there like a stone, listening to her breathe heavily on her side. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard her breath catch once, twice, three times in her sleep. He turned his head, expecting maybe tears to roll down her cheeks, but was met instead with flushed cheeks and moist, parted lips. He groaned inwardly, and felt his cock begin to notice her again as well. It was then that Jacob felt Trista's arm slide across her body, languidly, as if still dreaming. Those little slender fingers, the ones he had taught to catch a baseball and play the piano, brushed aside the hem of her nightshirt absent-mindedly, and started stroking her tiny bud-like clit, letting her other fingers slide between her thighs, stroking her slit slowly. It was more than a man was meant to take.
Carefully, so as not to wake her from whatever delectable dream held her captive, Jacob slowly pulled her nightshirt the rest of the way up. His mouth closed first on her right breast, swirling the nipple around in his mouth, sucking on it gently, running his teeth over it with the greatest care, making her gasp from within her dream. Then, he moved his mouth across to her other breast, leaving a wet trail of kisses behind his lips. He felt her fingers speed up between her silky thighs, and just as he thought he might still maintain control, her hand brushed his cock in her slumbering gyrations. His body screamed for release, and at this point all recollections of the good kind Dr. Jekyll side of Jacob were lost to his cock. Mr. Hyde was out to play.
Pulling Trista's shirt up over her head completely, Jacob managed to secure her wrists together before she was even awake. Her eyelids started fluttering beautifully, stoking the fire inside him torturously, and then she finally focused on the impressive male taking advantage of her.
"Daddy?!" Trista's voice hit a new octave even Jacob hadn't heard, and it only served to spear him on further. His right hand held her shirt-encased wrists, while the other savagly mauled her breasts, working its way down to her sweet little pussy, which was, predicatably, drenched with her nectar. It was then that Jacob realized his baby girl was thoroughly enjoying the attention she was getting from her Daddy.
"You little slut," he hissed through his teeth into her ear, "you're loving this, aren't you? Your sweet sluttly little pussy is just dripping juice all over my hand. You want this, little girl? You've got to earn it first," and Jacob thrust three fingers deep into Trista's pussy, making her thrash and moan even as she still struggled against him in vain. Jacob knelt above his daughter, straddling her ribcage, and laughed as she tried to buck him off. She slashed at him with teeth and nails, but with a swift grab he had both her wrists in one hand again, and his other hand was at her throat. "I don't want to press any harder than I have you, but if you come at me like that again you little bitch, we'll find out how strong your neck is," his thumb pressed into her windpipe as a way of ending that attempted escape. Trista sufficed herself to lying there and whimpering, a terrified look in her eyes that only barely concealed the lust underneath. Jacob pressed her windpipe again and said, "Open your mouth, baby girl, and earn the fucking you want." At first, Trista refused and shook her head with her lips pressed tight. Jacob leaned back on his heels, slid his hand between her legs, and stroked her clit with a slight tremor to his hand. Slowly, up and down, he rubbed her clit in tiny circles, and then, just as he saw her begin to relax, two fingers plunged deep inside her pussy, making Trista cry out, opening her mouth and letting her Daddy's cock slide in. With a grunt of triumph, Jacob starting fucking her face hard, going too shallow to gag her, easing his cock deeper into her throat.
"Oh baby, just like that, suck Daddy's cock good and you'll get the best fucking you've ever dreamed of...oh Trista..." Jacob babbled on as his little slut's mouth took over his brain. He hadn't even been able to dream of her feeling so good. Better than the hot wet velvet he imagined, she sucked as though she were starving, and he was a long-awaited milkshake. Her tongue ran around the head of his cock expertly, deftly stroking the vein that ran along the underside before he thrust himself deeply into the back of her throat again, burying her face. Harder and harder, Jacob knew that if he didn't pull back, he was going to cum all over her pretty little face. With an incredible moan, he sat back and let his cock slip from her mouth, now swollen and red from its beating. She whimpered - whimpered! as he moved back, but smiled as he slid between her legs.
"Did I do it right, Daddy?" her used-whore's mouth set in that angelic face almost made Jacob cum right there. He threw her legs over his shoulders and without a break shoved himself inside her to the hilt, making her scream with ecstasy and pain. Over and over, he slammed his cock into her, watching her tight little pussy swallow him whole. She screamed and cried, her head thrashing back and forth, her arms straining against his as her body tried to wriggle away. It was too intense, too much, she was crying and gasping and moaning all at once. Suddenly, he pulled himself out of her, flipped her over with one arm, and entered her from behind. As he pounded into her gripping pussy, an idea from earlier occurred to him. "I bet she's had guys in all those hot wet little holes..." With a wet slurp, he pulled his cock from her pussy and slid it into the cleft of her ass. Then Trista truly started to struggle.
"Daddy! No! Please, I've never had anyone do that before, please Daddy no, you're too big please Daddy, please!!!" Her wails only served to make him harder, and the moment Jacob heard her admission of even partial virginity, he knew he had to have her. Rubbing her juices all around her little rosebud asshole, he slid one finger barely into her. Instantly, like a vise grip she puckered and his finger could barely wiggle.
"Relax, baby girl, Daddy won't force you to do anything," he said, and ran one hand up her back soothingly, pulling his finger out of her. She relaxed visibly, and Jacob took his chance - he pinned her head and back down with the arm that had been stroking her and spread her cheeks with the other hand, impaling her on every inch of his cock, letting her scream into the pillow as hard as she could. Her ass was tighter than anything he'd ever felt, gripping and straining and stretching against him, her small body bucking beneath him with pain. He slid the hand not holding her down between her legs and fingered her pussy as he fucked her ass, and slowly, her struggling decreased, and he felt his daughter begin to buck her hips backwards into his thrusts. He moaned loudly when she responded, grabbing the back of her head and leaning over to bite her on the neck. She returned his moan deep into the pillows, and he reached around, grabbing handfuls of young sweet tit. Harder and harder he started thrusting, her return thrusts coming almost as hard as he went into her. He could feel the last of his control start to slip, her tight little ass, the sounds she made whimpering and crying into the pillow, and her newfound enthusiasm for her Daddy's cock, making his blood boil and he felt his cock start to swell. All at once, she turned her head, little angel lips crying out, "Oh, Daddy!" and Jacob plunged as deeply into that wet tight ass as he could, feeling his cock explode as cum filled her up and started coming out the sides, running down into her pussy, her orgasm making her shake beneath him.
It took a few moments for his vision to clear, and when it did, Jacob looked down and saw his precious baby daughter still quivering, impaled on his slowly shrinking cock. His hands started to shake with the realization of what he had done, and quickly withdrawing himself from her depths did little to lessen the shock. Slowly, Trista turned first on her side, then completely on her back, smiling. It was her smile that made Jacob stop his hands from shaking. She smiled as though it was okay.
"That was amazing, Daddy," she said in her little girl's voice that made him twitch, even now. He collapsed beside her, and pulled her to him, holding her with all his strength that was left.
"This isn't right, baby," he murmured into her ear sleepily. She curled her body to conform to his, and kissed his lips gently.
"This is," she whispered, and fell asleep in his arms.