Gordon and Grace

Gordon groaned at the heat and tangled his fingers into her hair.

Amanda used her tongue along with her lips and touched whatever she could of his length. The length knocked the back of her throat, and she pulled back. Her head quickly started sliding up and down, but it wasn't fast enough for Gordon.

With the grip on her hair, he started to thrust harder into her mouth.

Amanda whimpered at the force but didn't try to stop him. The tip of his cock took sharp shots at her throat before Gordon pushed himself deep enough to force his whole cock down her throat. She gasped, seemingly shocked at the depths in which he went.

Gordon pulled himself out of her throat and said, "I think I want to fuck you in the bed that your husband does."

Amanda was gasping for breath as she stood. "He doesn't fuck me."

Gordon couldn't stop the laugh that came out. "Well, I suppose he would if you offered him your ass."

Amanda frowned. "Tired that." She headed up the stairs.

Gordon followed.

The master bedroom was what Gordon expected, neat and too perfect. Amanda turned around, and he nudged her backwards. She fell onto the bed before pushing herself up and shifting back.

Gordon undid his shirt, kicked off his shoes and pants before walking over to the edge of the bed. He said, "Why stay with this fag if he don't fuck you?" He grabbed her ankles and pulled her back to the edge of the bed.

Amanda gasped and took a shaky breath as he hooked her legs around his thighs. "Because I have two children who love their father. And his bank account helps."

Gordon shook his head. "Suppose that makes sense."

Her cunt was wet as Gordon pushed his cock into her. She lay back on the bed, her back arching as his length was swallowed by her. Gordon paused as he reached her depths.

"Your lack of cock helps me, at least."

Amanda groaned as he pulled back.

The next thrust was hard; Gordon fucked Amanda firmly. His hips pistoned forward, her breasts bouncing with every jolt. Amanda cried out with every strike of her insides; her hands struggled to grasp the sheets below her as Gordon yanked her body back and forth.

"Fuck!"

Gordon's hands dug into Amanda's thighs; her cunt was hot and snug around him, but he couldn't watch her face. It was wrong. Gordon's eyes fell closed, and Grace flooded his mind. He pictured her at his mercy, on her back, begging for her Daddy's cock. Gordon found himself thrusting harder, not even hearing Amanda's screams as an orgasm struck her. He continued to thrust, picturing Grace's face twisting into pure bliss as her body convulsed around him, her cunt clenching his length sending him over the edge.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Gordon opened his eyes to see Amanda looking at him, shocked. "What?"

She pushed at his chest, but he held still. His cock still inside her, still half hard.

"You said, Grace."

Gordon swallowed. He hadn't even realised he had said her name.

"You weren't picturing me, you dirty fuck; you were picturing your daughter." The laugh that followed as Amanda dropped back onto the bed was unexpected. "Is everyone in this town that fucked up?"

Gordon shook his head. "What?"

Releasing her, he stepped back and watched her.

Amanda sat up. "My husband isn't fucking his deputy behind my back--at least--not anymore. He's fucking our son."

Gordon took a moment to process her words. "Your son the quarterback?"

Amanda nodded. "I don't know how long for, but I've heard them. They think I don't realise that their gym workouts in the basement are them fucking. I've heard my son beg his Daddy to fuck his tight ass." She stood from the bed and walked into the bathroom. "I was so fucking pissed at first, was ready to turn him in. The Sherrif, for incest. But then I realised that I have hated my husband for so long that I could use it." She cleaned off the mess Gordon had made between her legs before leaning against the doorframe. "The two of them can fuck as much as they like, but they leave my daughter out of it, no one else can know, and I can fuck whoever I want. Including the man he hates the most." She smirked at Gordon.

"What did I do to your husband?" he asked.

Amanda shrugged. "Don't bloody know. But he used to love bitching about you." She bent down and grabbed Gordon's clothes and held them out to him. "I didn't really expect this to end with the revelation that both of our families are incestuous--"

"I haven't touched Grace." Gordon stepped towards her.

Amanda raised her hands. "Not yet, but you want to. I'm not judging; just keep it to yourself."

By the time Gordon had reached his truck, he didn't know what to think. The Sherrif was fucking his own son. The son that he had seen Grace flirting with the day before. Again, Gordon didn't know if he wanted to laugh or scream.

---

Gordon leant against the shopping cart's handle squinting his eyes to read the list Grace had written out. He huffed in annoyance at the small blurry words before glancing up. Grace was sorting through tomatoes. A small smirk graced her lips.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

Grace tied a knot in the bag of tomatoes before placing them in the cart. "Where are your glasses?"

Gordon huffed. "In the car."

Grace took the list from him. "They aren't going to be helpful there."

"I hate them."

Grace giggled. "Get over it, old man; you need them."

Gordon rolled his eyes and followed Grace through the fruit and veg. They got to the cereal aisle, and Gordon grabbed his muesli.

Grace frowned.

"What now?" he asked. "You have a problem with my cereal?"

"That one is high in sugar."

He rolled his eyes. "And?"

"You should get the one with less sugar."

"I don't like the one with less sugar."

Grace reached to grab the box. "It's better for you."

Gordon held it away from her hands. "You're sounding like a nagging wife again."

Grace smirked. "Well, sometimes you treat me like I'm your wife."

He threw the box into the cart. "I thought you weren't because wives get to have sex." Gordon mocked her words from earlier and nudged her shoulder with his.

"They do." She nudged back.

"You want me to start treating you like you're my wife. Is that what you want?"

Gordon didn't think before he spoke, but the words came out, and he saw the flash in Grace's eye. It looked like desire. The tension in his body seemed to tighten, and his cock twitched.

The two of them fell silent, their eyes watching one another. Grace was the one who cleared her throat, tucked her hair behind her ear and walked ahead. Gordon watched his daughter for a moment and couldn't believe he had just said that out loud. What probably should have worried him more is that he wanted Grace to say yes. He wanted her to tell him that she wanted him to treat her in such a way.

The rest of their trip was awkward. Grace kept the subject on food and off the weird subject of sex. Gordon didn't really know how to ease the tension--well, he knew one way--so he didn't say anything.

Once the truck was packed and they were on their way back to the house, Grace turned back to the subject.

"Are you worried about me leaving you? Is that why I can't date?" she asked.

Gordon didn't hesitate. "It's one of many reasons."

"Daddy, I still have to finish school, and that is months away. I want to go to college, but I was planning on staying local. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." Grace slid across the trunks seat and pressed her shoulder against his.

Gordon lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder. He pressed a kiss to her head. "It's not just you leaving--I don't trust those boys."

"You don't have to, Daddy." Grace placed her hand on Gordon's chest. "Just me."

Gordon was starting to feel like he couldn't argue with her anymore. It seemed she was determined to get this date.

"You want me to trust you to go out on a date with the Hearding boy?" he asked.

She nodded. "He asked me yesterday to a movie on Friday, and I really want to go."

Gordon wanted to laugh. The dumb jock that was having his ass hole obliterated by his old man's cock. It was probably the safest option for her. the secretly gay jock wouldn't try and fuck his little girl.

"Fine," he said.

Grace's face lit up. "Really?" she squealed.

He nodded. "On one condition."

"What?"

"I drop you off and pick you up."

Grace frowned. "Daddy..."

"I can add more."

"Fine."

Gordon didn't want his daughter to get hurt, but he didn't want her to be having sex with any of the boys, even more so. The gay jock wouldn't touch her.

That night as Gordon sat on the couch with Grace, he found his eyes wandering. Grace was lying across the couch in her PJ's, a pair of shorts that barely covered her ass cheeks and a tank top that was barely holding in her breasts. Said breasts were pressed against his leg as she snuggled her face into the pillow she had placed on his lap. Gordon's hand was resting on Grace's waist, and there had been a moment where his hand had shifted, without him even realising, and he had almost groped her.

The young woman that laid beside him was different from the little girl he had always seen. Grace was changing; the way Gordon saw her was changing, and he didn't know if he liked it or not. Gordon loved his daughter, but everything about her was calling to the side a child wasn't supposed to see. The hunger for connection, for pleasure. Gordon wants to taste those things again like he had enjoyed for so many years with his wife.

Gordon wasn't sure what was happening inside himself, but he knew that he couldn't let Grace get hurt.

*

*

*

The night of the date arrived, and Gordon was on edge.

Grace had been talking excitedly about it for days, and now she had been asking his opinions on her outfits. She came downstairs in a skirt, which Gordon said no to, then a dress; he also said no. Grace came down in her third outfit, a pair of jeans and a nice top, and he nodded yes. No sneaking a hand up her jeans.

When it rolled around to six-thirty, Gordon walked outside to meet Grace in the trunk. She came rushing out of the house in the pink dress he had said no to. He frowned as she climbed in.

"Jeans are boring," she said, "dresses are best."

Gordon ground his teeth together before starting the truck. He had been confident that the Hearding kid wasn't going to touch her.

"What movie you seeing?" Gordon asked.

"The comedy one, Ricky said it's supposed to be good." Grace pressed down on her dress, flattening the skirt.

"What time will it be done?" he asked.

"Probably around eight."

"I'll pick you up at ten and no later. You want to come home sooner, you call."

Grace nodded. "Yes, Daddy."

The theatre in town was old but well kept. The Hearding boy was standing out the front, dressed in his football jumper and jeans. Grace beamed widely at him as Gordon stopped the truck. She pressed a kiss to Gordon's cheek, but in her excitement of getting out, she got the corner of his mouth more than his cheek.

The warmth from her lips made Gordon want a better taste. If the Hearding boy hadn't been approaching the truck, Gordon believes he would have grabbed his daughter and shoved his tongue into her throat.

Leaning back against his seat, Grace jumped out. "Hi, Ricky."

"Hi, Gracey."

"Boy!" called Gordon.

He looked up and offered a scared smile. "Mr Longmire, sir."

"I'm picking her up at ten. And keep your hands to yourself if you want to keep them."

The boy nodded. "Right."

"Bye, Daddy." Grace frowned at him and waved him off before taking Ricky's arm and pulling him toward the theatre.

Gordon watched them pay for their tickets and walk inside before driving off. He probably should have driven home and waited; instead, he drove down the street and parked across the road from Lucky's, the smaller of the two bars in town. Lucky's suited the older clientele, more country and beer, than pop and shots.

Taking a seat at the bar, Jannis Malcolm, the bartender and owner of Lucky's, walked over. "Haven't seen you in a while," she said.

Gordon sighed. He placed his hat on the bar and clasped his hands together. "My daughter's on a date."

Jannis smirked. "Right, enough to drive any man to drink."

Gordon nodded.

"Usual?"

"Yeah, thanks." He placed down a ten-dollar bill on the bar.

Jannis handed him his beer and leant back against the other side of the bar. She grabbed glasses and started drying them. "Which boy was bold enough to ask out Grace?"

"Richard Hearding."

Jannis laughed. "Wow, the Sherrif's kid."

"Little punk is what he is."

Jannis tucked her towel in her jeans. "Got a pair of balls on him."

Gordon scoffed. "He wouldn't dare touch my girl." He took a large gulp of his beer. "And I have it on good authority that touching my daughter is the last thing he'd want either."

"What do you mean?" asked Jannis.

Gordon probably shouldn't have said anything, and he didn't share all the details. Just that he knew that the Hearding boy was taking it up the ass regularly by an older man.

Jannis looked astounded. "I guess that explains why you let Grace go."

Gordon nodded. "A fag ain't going to touch my girl, not like she wants him too."

Three beers later, Gordon left. He walked out of the bar and was putting his hat on his head when a small force ran straight into him. Gordon grasped the arms of the person to stop them from falling. He looked down to see the tear-stained cheeks and red eyes of his daughter.

Cupping Grace's face, he asked, "What did he do?"

Anger flared in his chest; he was going to find that boy and beat him until he cried or begged for mercy. He would regret the day he was born.

Grace shook her head and buried her face into his chest. "Daddy, take me home."

The pleading in her voice was the only thing that stopped him from marching down the street. He wiped away her tears, pressed a kiss to her forehead and nodded. Gordon led her back to his truck and didn't ask anything further.

On the drive home, Grace snuggled into his side. Small hiccups came out of her, but she didn't speak. She sniffed and gripped Gordon's shirt tightly but didn't say anything.

A few things flashed through Gordon's head; the boy could have rejected her advances if Grace had tried to kiss or touch him; he could have made a move on her, something Gordon had thought to be unlikely, but if he was trying to hide his sexuality it would make sense; or someone else had upset her.

When they arrived back at the house, Grace followed him inside. She only released him once they were at the stairs, and she shuffled up them. Gordon heard the shower start, followed by sobbing. He didn't go upstairs straight away; he figured his daughter probably didn't need him rubbing anything in her face--not that he would, intentionally.

What had started out as a night that would solve his problem had turned to his daughter being in the exact position he wanted to avoid. Grace was crying because a boy had hurt her. Gordon never wanted to see tears on his daughters face.

The last time he had seen her cry was the day of her mother's funeral. She had clung to him with both arms, refusing to let go or hold onto someone else. Gordon held her for most of the day, allowing her to whimper into his shoulder. He remembered how she had spent the next week in his bed, curled into his chest.

Only when Gordon was ready for bed did he check on Grace. He knocked softly on her door before entering and finding her snuggled up in her bed. She glanced up at him and offered a sad smile.

"You okay?" he asked.

She shrugged.

"Did you want to talk about it?"

She shook her head.

"Okay, I'm going to bed. Just wake me if you need me."

She nodded.

"Love you, baby girl."

Grace's sad smile returned. "Love you too, Daddy."

Gordon wanted to murder the boy. His daughter sounded so broken, so rejected. If he ever saw that boy again, he was going to tie him to the fence post and let his best stallion fuck him until he was split in two. Or maybe he would shove a flaming hot poker up his ass and skewer him with it.

Gordon made his way to bed, wondering what he should do. The results of his plan hadn't left Grace happy, but Gordon wondered if she would move on from wanting to date. He hopefully could get a few more months out of pretending that his little girl would never date a boy.

Sleep didn't come easy, he was restless for a while, but when it finally did come, he wasn't sure how long had passed until he woke up. The creak of his bedroom door stirred Gordon from his light sleep. The sound of feet on the carpet made him aware of the new presence. He blinked open his eyes and focused on the small shape of his daughter.

"Can I sleep with you?" Grace asked.

Gordon nodded. "Of course, baby girl."

He pulled back the covers, and she climbed in.

Most people would say she was too old to get into bed with her old man, but as she slid in and snuggled right up against him, her hands grasping the old tank he was wearing, her sock-covered toes nudging against his carves, and her head pressing against his chest, Gordon simply wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her head.

Sleep came back quickly with Grace snuggled against him. And the next time he woke, it was early morning. Light was just peaking in through the window, and Gordon found himself in an uncertain position.

Grace had rolled over at some point and now had her back pressed against him. Gordon's arm was around her waist, his hand resting beneath the fabric of her tank top on her bare skin. If he shifted his fingers ever so slightly, Gordon knew he would feel her breasts. Grace's ass was also firmly pressed against his crotch, his morning wood firmly pressed between her ass cheeks. If there was no material separating them, Gordon could have shifted his hips and been inside her.

The thought of penetrating his daughter made his cock twitch and throb. What was happening?

Grace shifted, her ass moving against Gordon's cock, her breast falling against his fingers.

Gordon had a choice. He could pull himself away from his daughter, climb out of bed and get in the shower. He could be the good father and pretend he wasn't truly considering deflowering his daughter. Or...he could take the plunge. He could give his daughter what she so desired, a cock in her pussy, maybe even in her ass.

It had been years since Gordon had felt so conflicted about something. He knew he was never a good man; he had loved his wife and his children, did his best to raise them. But he was also harsh and strict and now obsessing over what his daughter cunt would feel like.

His finger's twitched, and before he could do any more contemplation, he felt the soft firmness of Grace's breast. Gordon ran his thumb along the bottom before sliding up to find her nipple. The small nub was already hard. Gordon's hand moved up to get a better grip of Grace's breast, his thumb and forefinger taking the nipple and rolling it, squeezing slightly and pulling a whimper out of Grace.

Gordon paused at the sound of his daughter. Was she awake? What would she do? Should he keep going? When Grace's eyes didn't open, Gordon continued. His other hand slid from beneath her side underneath Grace's shirt. He bunched the material up and then over her breasts, letting him take the bare flesh in. They were the perfect size in his hand; her skin soft and creamy, the nipples a light brown and perky. Gordon wanted to suck on them.

He settled for his fondling.

Pulling Grace's back firmly against him, Gordon played with her nipples. His cock pressed firmly against her ass; he played as she slept. Small whimpers coming out of her as he did. Occasionally her hips would shift, pressing against his cock, but she never opened her eyes.