How did It Happen? Pt. 06

Thank you to everyone that had taken the time to read the stories so far! I've had some great feedback and some wonderful comments. Keep them coming.

Let's cover off again, this is a work of fiction that deals with consensual father / daughter incest. If that isn't for you, don't read on, don't rate and don't comment, there's plenty on the site to keep you occupied. If this is for you, I'd love it if you could vote. I hope that you enjoy it!

She ground down onto me with one final grunt of exertion, her body glistening with sweat above me. She grimaced, tossing her hair back and jutting her chin out. She clenched her inner muscles around me in anticipation of the orgasmic wave. Whimpering, her body trembled before she cried out, jerked and squeezed my abused member inside her. Her hips jerked, grinding her clit further into my pelvis. She doubled over and her honey blonde tresses draped across my face.

I lay exhausted and panting, sore and aching. My wife collapsed on top of me, shaking. I closed my eyes and listened to her satisfied purr as I wrapped my arms around her slick back. A smile spread across my face and for the first time since my wife's operation, and the subsequent events with my daughter Abby, I felt happy and at peace. I hadn't cum from that last round. But honestly, I didn't expect to. I don't think I'd ever had 4 rounds of sex in a day before. Not even when I had the stamina. Now, at my age? I marvelled that I was still alive! I doubted either of us would be walking right for a couple of days. We'd been like teenagers. Pure animal lust had invaded us. I had no idea where it had come from, but I wasn't about to complain.

We lay pressed against each other, sweat cooling, but too tired to move. We drifted into sleep easily and slept for about an hour, and I awoke feeling refreshed. I made my way, on very stiff legs, to the bathroom and set the shower running as I stretched my aching muscles. Steam filled the room, clouding the mirror. I cracked the window open and stepped under the near scolding water.

I let the water beat down on me, relishing the cleansing feeling. I felt like I was living a metaphor; reconnecting sexually with my wife and washing away my sin with my daughter. As the water pooled around my feet, resolve seeped into my soul. It was time to end this madness with Abby.

I reached for the shower gel, time to scrub myself clean, both physically and mentally.

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"No more Abby" I said with a shake of my head.

My daughter looked at me with no small amount of confusion. "Err, what?" she asked.

"We need to go back to Father / Daughter. Not lovers Abby. I can never be that for you" I said, feeling strong.

Abby looked downcast and simply stared at her feet. "I don't know if I can Dad" she mumbled softly. "I don't want you to get ill again! But I..... I can't...." she trailed off.

I took her hands in mine, I'd been dreading this moment. I felt like I was breaking up with her. Men have a natural urge to say something stupid at times like these, usually the 'it's not you' line, but I bit it back as I watched my daughters heart break, and mine along with it.

Abby tried to stifle a sob as her shoulders slumped. Her fine golden hair hung obscuring her beautiful features. It hit me around then, she was little more than a girl. She might be physically, fully formed, but emotionally?

Sex is a big deal when you're young. You think it's going to be this magical, wonderful, moment that you become a man or a woman. It rarely worked out like that. My first time was a disaster, looking back on it I laugh about it. But back then, I was crushed that it had been an almost failure and I'd felt inadequate. Then when the relationship had ended with my first sexual partner, I felt a part of me was missing, a hole in me which quickly filled with despair and longing.

Is this how Abby was feeling now? The enormity of my actions hit me around then. Whilst I was wallowing in self-pity, then trying to re-find myself, my daughter, who I should be protecting, was starting to trudge down the same path I'd been down so many years ago.

I suppose you could argue that we can't protect our children from those feelings. It's a valuable life experience that everyone has to go through. A rite of passage and other trite nonsense. It should never have been at my hands, because of my weakness.

"Please!" she begged, tears flowing freely now. She tried so hard to stop the tears, but the dam had burst as one rolled after the next. "Please Daddy?!" she reiterated, drawing herself closer to me.

"Baby we can't. We just can't anymore. Don't make me explain it again. You know why not!" I pleaded with her, my own sight beginning to blur.

A great sob wracked her body, she drew her hand to her mouth, wanting to plead with me again. But the words wouldn't come. Instead, she pushed herself away from me. Anguish and despair warped her visage. Abby turned with a cry and fled. Fight or flight. The only option I'd given her was flight. A door slammed upstairs.

I knew I'd finally done the right thing. Reset the status quo. But a great hole opened in my chest. I slumped to the floor and cried. I cried for the hurt I'd caused. I cried for the destruction I'd surely caused our family. I cried for the sure loss of my daughter. Finally I cried for the loss of a lover.

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We avoided each other for the best part of a week. Things didn't return to normal. The atmosphere in the house was tense. I tried to talk to Abby about it, but the right words never appeared. Not that she wanted to listen to me. She was spurned. Her anguish had been overcome by anger. Then her anger abated, only to be replaced by depression.

I was still in a funk. Although I felt slightly better after stopping my liaison with Abby. Almost proud of my resolve, like a recovering addict. I still had unbidden dreams and half waking fantasies about my daughter, but there was light at the end of the tunnel and I was having less and less cravings.

I had to confront Abby about it though, try to restore some kind of normality. My wife noticed immediately that Abby was extremely unhappy. She guessed it was man trouble.

I was apprehensive about talking to Abby. I waited till Saturday morning. My wife had gone to work and I had the whole day to try and get Abby back on board.

I was sat down at the table having my breakfast when Abby slouched in. Her hair was a mess and her eyes looked bleary. Her dressing gown hung open and limp. Her baggy shorts and t-shirt crumpled from sleep. This was the first time we'd really been together alone since I'd 'broken up' with her.

Abby plonked herself down, shoulders slumped.

"Where's Mum" she mumbled not looking at me.

"She's gone to work early, she took an extra shift" I said

Abby's head snapped up and she looked at me, surprised that she was alone with me, a small ray of hope seemed to creep into her eyes.

"Don't get any ideas young lady, we need to talk" I said sternly

Abby looked taken aback at my tone. Softening as I saw her recoil slightly, I moved my chair around to her and took her hands in mine.

"Honey, I'm really worried about you. I still love you, I'm still your Dad" I said gently.

Her eyes welled up and a single tear fell down her cheek, reaching up I collected it before it dropped.

"You know that right?" I asked, her eyes flittered away from mine and she looked down at the table, more tears beginning to form.

"Talk to me honey, we can't carry on like this...." I said gently

"You just don't love me like *that*" she sniffed.

"No! You're my little girl!" I said surprised.

"But I love you! I'll do anything! I don't want this to end. Please?!" she whined

"Is it me?! I'll do whatever you want! Aren't I sexy enough for you?!" she cried again

"Baby, you're amazing! You're the sexiest woman I've ever been with" I confessed, trying anything to make her feel better, but realising too late, that I could feel myself digging a hole that I might not be able to get out of.

"But you're not listening to me. We need to get back to normal now." I said gently but firmly.

Abby sat bolt upright and, her eyes red and puffy, tears streaked her face. She set her jaw and a fire lit in her eyes.

"I don't want it to stop!" She shouted petulantly tearing her hands from mine.

"And nor do you! I felt the way you took me last time and I see it in you now! You're a liar and a hypocrite!" She screamed, her face turning red and her eyes ablaze as her anger rose.

She stood up quickly, her chair tipping behind her and she stood with her hands on her hips towering over me.

"So, you don't want me anymore? You don't want my body?!" She demanded.

"Abby...." I began in a small voice, slightly cowed by her terrible fury.

She shrugged her dressing gown off and it piled around her feet on the kitchen floor. She then pulled her t-shirt up and over her head. Her firm breasts shivered as the material rasped over her nipples. Her chest was flushed from her anger and she stood glaring at me.

"You still don't want these?!" she demanded cupping her breasts, pushing them together.

My shaft twitched slightly to my shame.

"Now look here, cover yourself up!" I said standing up trying to sound stern and fatherly.

She simply sneered at me, her lips curling into a cruel smirk, as she rubbed hands around her breasts tempting me and arousing her nipples.

"I mean it Abby; we're not doing this" I said trying to sound strong.

Abby replied by turning around, bending slightly at the waist she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and pulled them smoothly down to mid-thigh, letting them fall to the ground to gather around her ankles.

Turning her head to look over her shoulder at me, she shot her mocking smirk in my direction. Inviting me. Calling to me. Screaming out to be touched. Her silken, soft skin. Her firm flesh.

I could feel myself start to crumble as I stared, not able to look away, but frozen in indecision.

"Don't you want this?" Abby whispered seductively; her anger hidden.

Abby stepped from her clothing, and placed her legs shoulder width, her peaches peeled away from one another, and there in all her glory was her sex. The object of so many of my recent guilty dreams. I could clearly see she was parted, a thin sheen of moisture glistened slightly on her inner labia.

"Tell me you don't want this" came her silky voice, worming its way into my mind. She reached back placing each of her hands slowly on her ass. She pulled her skin taught, opening herself to me.

In horror, I saw my own hand begin to reach out slowly of its own volition. My fingers curling ready to make contact with the soft skin, ready to start the impossible all over again.

"Yessss" she hissed quietly in anticipation of my touch.

I had to try and stop myself; this could not be allowed. I was the adult here. But the growing realisation was that I didn't have the will power or discipline to stop myself. I'm an addict, my body wanted more, even if my mind knew that it was wrong and destructive. But as I thought this and my inner turmoil raged, my shaft swelled unbidden and began to ache for release.

Seeing my hand reach out and my gaze locked on her obscene display, Abby's breathing quickened and her eyes widened in triumph.

Still unable to stop myself, my hand crept forward until it hovered over her upturned ass. The descent would only take an inch. One inch of open air separated me from oblivion again. I tried hard to resisted the urge, but to no avail. My hand dropped softly to rest on her. She was smooth and warm, firm but yielding. Without realising it I had been holding my breath, which at that moment rushed from my lungs, hissing audibly between my teeth.

Abby pushed her ass out a little to encourage my hand. I half closed my eyes ready to surrender to the inevitable, but my senses returned and I snatched my hand back with a yelp as though I'd burned it. A look of horror crossed my face as I grabbed my offending hand around the wrist, afraid that it would reach out again.

What was I doing?! I collapsed back into the chair and screwed my eyes shut, trying to blank out the thoughts and feelings flashing through me.

When I opened my eyes, Abby was standing facing me again, hands on her hips, naked, a hard look on her face.

"I gave you the easy option" she started.

"I'm going upstairs now. You've got 10 minutes to come to me" she stated matter of factly. Drained and dumbfounded I looked at her not comprehending what she was saying.

"If you don't, I'm going to start telling everyone. Starting with mum. Then I'll posted it on social media. I might even tell everyone that I was forced into it" she continued suggestively.

My mouth hung open as I listened to her, a creeping dread washing over me. Her stare chilled me, and she spun around on her heel and marched out slamming the door behind her.

What the fuck?! My daughter was blackmailing me! Not for money, or gifts, but for sex! I thought about telling her to do her worst, damn it I was the head of this house, I was her father, I was in charge here!

But the lingering doubt shrouded me suddenly. What if? Shit, teenagers were erratic at the best of times. She obviously wasn't thinking straight, I mean she hadn't listened to reason.

What if?

I sat for another couple of minutes, subconsciously biting my nails whilst I deliberated. I decided to try and reason with her one more time, perhaps she'd have thought about it now that she was on her own for a few minutes.

I'm not sure why, but I crept along the corridor until I was at the bottom of the stairs. I felt that I didn't want her to hear me, and I avoided the squeaky bits on the stairs. I stopped at Abby's door, taking a breath I pushed the door open a jar. I could hear tapping on a keyboard. Pushing the door open further, the end of Abby's bed came into view. She was laying still naked on her side, one arm propping her head up and the other hitting the keys of her laptop. Her back was to me, but I was sure she knew I was there. She was stretched out, her naked form sending another jolt of longing through me which I tried to supress.

I shuffled into the room and the screen came into view. She stared intently at the social media page. I could clearly make out the text on the screen as I approached her;

'What's on your mind, Abby?' -- Dad fucked me again, this shouldn't be happening! What do I do?

I remember a dull ringing starting in my ears, as my focused shifted in and out at those words. For a brief moment I panicked entirely, thinking that she'd already posted it. Expecting to see start to see question marks and WTF's and OMG's in comment. But as I got a grip on myself, I noticed that she hadn't sent it yet.

I felt a pathetic gratitude toward her for a split second.

"Do I need to post this on my status?" she said, not looking back at me.

I don't think I said anything. I just stood there, dazed and confused. I couldn't process it. My daughter is blackmailing me?

Abby rolled over slowly to face me, propping herself up with one arm, her eyebrows raised in question. I felt sick. I felt trapped. Teenagers can be unpredictable at the best of times, hell I remember my teenage years and cringe at the thought of some of the decisions that I made.

She just might do it if I didn't play ball. She had me in an impossible position, I couldn't say no. But then would it really be so bad? I mean if no-one found out it'd just like be having great sex with a beautiful, sexy young woman. Wasn't that what most heterosexual men dreamed of?

I must have shaken my head or made some other sign for her not to post her status, I don't really remember, but Abby uncoiled herself. In that instant I remembered how magnificent she was to behold. Temptation personified, long, long toned legs, flat stomach, her waist hour glassing in from her hips then flaring back out again at her upper body. Her beautiful face could have started endless conflict for her favours. She wasn't a child anymore, but a stunning woman with a will of steel.

Framed by golden locks, her deep blue eyes gazed at me, sparkling quizzically. Her breasts were full, firm and ripe and her treasure shaved almost entirely, with just a thin strip, like a soft pathway to what I secretly desired, what I dreamed of in the dead of night, what I craved.

But still my emotions were violent swirls of shame, desire, guilt and anger. Where one prevailed another swept it aside and held me in its grasp for a few short seconds whilst I stood frozen and watched Abby adjust herself to sit with her back against the pillows, making herself comfortable.

"Take off your shirt" she demanded quietly, folding her arms underneath her breasts, and crossing her ankles, her smooth legs stretched.

Numbly I started to undo the buttons, first one then another. I noticed for the first time that my hands we shaking, and I had to stop a few times to curl my fingers to try and stop the tremble.

I let my shirt hang loose on me for a moment and looked up to Abby pleadingly. Abby looked coldly back at me and nodded for me to slip the fabric from my shoulders.

"Now the trousers" Her voice seemed loud and icy in the confines of the room, her tone stung me like a whip, but I could see the eagerness and hunger in her eyes as I began to unbuckle my belt. Her nipples were erect, swollen with excitement, and she raised one of her hands slowly to her breast, brushing the fingers over the sensitive nub lightly.

My own body was responding, against my will, and I was becoming erect. I could feel myself stiffening within the confines of my underwear, warmth against my leg as it grew. I slowly snapped my button playing for time, hoping there was some flash of inspiration that might stop this madness.

But looking back, I'm not truly convinced that I wanted it to stop. My body screamed at me, and even my mind was fogged with confusion. My desire was gaining control over my guilt and shame.

Pulling the zip, my trousers quickly fell to the floor in their own and I stood in front of my daughter, boxers protecting my manhood from her. She stared at my thick member hungrily, hidden but clearly outlined by the tight material.

Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips, now both of her hands were teasing her nipples.

"Get them off" she growled hungrily.

Oh god I wanted to, but the last shred of my dignity held me back. Despair hung around me like an aura as I tried to fight it vainly. But I couldn't. I just couldn't stop myself and I felt my thumbs trace their way down my sides until they hooked into the waist band of my boxers.

Abby glared at my crotch, fixated. Her lips parted and I could see her lean forward a little, pinching her nipples harder.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't move. I couldn't think straight. I was so close to dropping my underwear and surrendering to her every whim. I don't know what did stop me, but suddenly I wanted to be away from her, and I turned and tried to flee. But she was quicker than me. Reading my movements, she slid off the bed in a fluid movement, reached out and grasped the waistband of my boxers, pulling me back hard. As I reared backward, she placed a hand on my shoulder and span me around. She gave me no time to react and mashed her mouth against mine, her arms simultaneously hooking under mine and grasped me tight.

Her tongue quickly probed my lips for their weakness, and when her hand rapidly descended to grasp my buttocks, my lips parted. It was the opening that she needed, her tongue darted into my mouth, caressing, but forceful and passionate.

My switch was thrown. Any previous misgivings, doubt, guilts and shame were forgotten in those brief seconds. I reverted to an animal state and once her tongue was fiercely exploring my mouth, I responded in kind, my own pushing against hers, a deep groan rumbled in my throat as my frustration poured out.