Isabella Plays

All characters in this story are eighteen. CHECK THE STORY CODES--there is both (happy, loving) INCEST _and_ SPANKING in this story. This is fantasy and the events of this story should not be carried out in reality.

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Dan felt like such a stereotype. He seemed unable to shake an attraction to girls who were just fresh out of high school, or even just about to be fresh out of high school. Far too young for him and frankly out of his league. He never deluded himself into thinking there was any chance they'd welcome any advances from him, a married man in his forties. And even if he happened on the one in a million newly minted eighteen year old who had just been itching to find herself a middle class older man, he would never do anything to screw up his marriage. Besides, he figured the moment such a girl opened her mouth and started talking he'd find himself experiencing, to say the least, a lack of connection with her, and any attraction would go away.

But this wasn't his biggest problem. His daughter, not only in terms of age and fitness but in all other ways, was exactly his type. Exactly. He couldn't help this, it was just a fact. He couldn't say he was "attracted" to her exactly, because he had no desire whatsoever to approach her in that way. But in the right mood, at exactly the wrong time, he did find himself thinking about her body, her smile, imagining her in rapturous ecstasy, and so on. He no longer tried to put those thoughts away, as he'd come to see that as entirely futile.

He just kept it absolutely and utterly to himself.

If she was currently laying on her back on the couch, her head on his leg as he watched TV and she scrolled her phone, he didn't even glance at her out of the corner of his eye. Imagination was enough. He didn't need to steal actual glances, especially in a circumstance where she might notice. If he felt his erection starting to push out a little on his pants, he ignored this, ashamedly imagining himself protesting, if she noticed it, that spontaneous erection is a thing.

From his lap, Isabella's beautiful face spoke. "Hey Dad, check it out," she said.

He looked down. His brain almost didn't understand what he was looking at for a moment. She was grinning, having pulled her loose, wide necked shirt downwards so that her breasts poked out of the neckline.

"Made you look!" she winked, and quickly replaced her shirt.

He stared at her, his hand over his mouth, speechless. She nonchalantly returned to scrolling her phone. "Isabella that was--"

She immediately cut him off. "Hilarious?"

"Absolutely unacceptable. Why would you think that was okay?"

He could see her blush a little. She maintained her nonchalance as she said a bit plaintively, "I don't know I just thought it was funny?"

"What could be funny about that?" he asked.

"Like, surprise! I'm flashing you over my shirt!" With this she looked back up at him smiling at whatever ridiculous humor she saw in this and he noted her hand was moving up to her neckline again.

He grabbed it by the wrist, which incidentally caused him to at first take a little of her breast in hand as well, through her shirt. "Oooh" she grinned, raising her eyebrow at him.

He didn't know what to do. He let go of her hand.

"See?" she said, "Over," and with this her breasts were once again on display through the top of her shirt.

"Under," she said and quickly shifted to flashing him the traditional way.

"Over, under, overunderoverunder!"

He slapped her hand away, but missed, slapping her directly on her bare breast, right on the nipple, instead.

"Aha!" she laughed. "You missed! Or did you?" This last she said in an exaggerated TV announcer tone.

He was starting to get really angry. He and his wife did believe in corporal punishment but only in very controlled circumstances, never in spontaneous anger. Yet, he now grabbed her hair in his lap and pulled downward on it to force her to face him directly in the eye. She hissed a little with the discomfort but kept her eyes right on him. He replaced her shirt properly without touching her breast while staring her down, then, out of a loss for what to say, he did something instead--he slapped her on the cheek several times, emphasizing his syllables. "Do not EVER do that, do you hear me?"

She was tearing up a little from the sting but somehow still grinning a little. "Okay Daddy, but what about this?" She glanced downward.

She was pulling her skirt away from her hip and a little downwards so that he could see directly down the line of her tummy all the way to her pubic area.

"Over," she said, then quickly pulled up so he could now see her vagina unobscured. "Under."

Even as he still had her hair in his grasp she kept going, flashing her pussy at him first over her skirt, then under her skirt, several times in a row while he stared in blank confusion and anger.

"It's just body parts Daddy," she giggled as she continued, and somehow that set him off.

He didn't slap her hand away. He slapped her pussy, just like he had slapped her face a moment ago.

"Stop!" he yelled.

"Over?" she intoned after reacting like you might expect to being slapped on the pussy.

He reached into the gap between her skirt and tummy and slapped her pussy five more times in rapid succession as she closed her eyes and steeled herself.

"Under!" she said laughing, and pulled her skirt upwards. He now had free reign, no skirt in the way. "Fucking stop!" he yelled again, and grabbed her pussy, pinching it in his fist, and finally violently shoving two of his fingers inside her.

She went stiff.

"Is this fun?" he said. "Is this funny?" And began rapidly fingerfucking her.

She let this happen for several seconds before finally opening her eyes and looking directly at him. "Yep."

But he could see tears flowing from her eyes. He regained his senses. He loosened his grip. He withdrew his finger from inside her pussy.

--

"I... Oh my god..."

"Why stop?" his daughter asked, putting her own hand down into her skirt.

"I'm so sorry, I can't believe... I... Are you okay?"

Isabella wiped a tear off her nose. "Oh did you think you were hurting me?" She said this archly and he knew she was masturbating down there while saying it. He made no motion to stop her because he didn't want his hand anywhere near that area of her body just now.

"I mean, I lost control of myself but then I saw you crying and I..."

She laughed once again. "I wasn't crying, it was just like, intense. I told you I liked what you were doing!"

She closed her eyes now and was clearly concentrating on what was going on under her hand.

He just sat there, dumbfounded, watching her straighten her legs pushing against the leg of the couch so that her chest area was now on his lap, her breasts out and fully facing him. He simply clamped his hand over his mouth again, horrified.

She made no noise. Her orgasm was silent, but very apparent.

She looked up at him again with sleepy eyes. "I do that sometimes like five times a night." Then as he continued to stare at her with his mouth agape behind his hand, she reached down to her skirt, and giggling, gave him the little peeks just like before.

"Isabella!" he finally said, and reached down to hold it in place. She wiggled around to make her pussy meet his balled up hand through her skirt. He moved his hand away but that pulled the skirt up, he moved it back down and she grinded herself against his fist again.

So with his other hand he pinched her nipple. "Be still."

She didn't obey of course. "Ow! That hurts! Don't stop!"

He grasped her breast as hard as he could, digging his fingernails in and manhandling it in every direction. With his other hand he did the same to her pussy. "Oh yeah," she responded.

Back in went his fingers. In his mind he was trying to make it hurt, trying to show her a consequence for what she was doing.

She grunted repeatedly as his fingers went in deep over and over again, and as he clawed and grasped at her breasts and nipples. No one could fool themselves into thinking her grunts were any sign of displeasure.

He found her clit, and mashed it.

She writhed on his lap, moving to increase the stimulation of her clit. He had thought simply mashing it down against the bone would be painful but she thrust up and down, side to side, jerking off against his attempt to punish her, until she shivered and her whole body went tight again. Silently, she made a hard shaking grimace, then suddenly relaxed.

He had made his daughter cum a second time.

She was grinning at him. He kept his face perfectly still. He was angry, ashamed, aroused, so many emotions he'd never felt together before.

After some moments of her reverie, she lifted herself up, and straddled him.

He had an instinct to push her away. He also had an instinct to carefully refrain from touching her in any way. These two instincts canceled out, and of course he had other instincts as well.

As he sat there dumbly she initiated contact. They kissed. She opened his mouth with hers and gently probed with her tongue.

Lost in the moment he finally also pushed his tongue a little into her mouth, half thinking he could just steal this moment then finally end the interaction. She smiled through the kiss then shoved her tongue deeply, almost grotesquely into his throat while beginning to grind herself on his enpantsed erection.

He found himself involuntarily thrusting upwards, in return, and closed his eyes. Doing his duty he gently pushed her away.

"Please get off."

"I am getting off Daddy," she quipped. "You're a good kisser!"

"Please. Please just stand up."

She sighed. "Okay," and got to the floor, adjusting her clothes so they were on her almost normally, one strap hanging off her shoulder.

"Just..." He didn't know what to say.

A sigh. "Am I in trouble?"

"No not exactly... Just... We need to separate. Will you stay in your room for a while?"

"I guess?"

"We need to talk about this later."

"I... guess?"

He nodded. Then motioned. And a dark sort of disappointed puzzlement came over her face. Silently, she turned and went up the stairs. Once near the top, she began stomping, and when she reached her room, she slammed the door.

--

He took some time to breathe, gather his wits, consider his choices, and find his resolve. Then he went up to Isabella's room himself, and knocked on the door.

"Come in," she said quietly. He entered and found her sitting on the edge of bed, fully naked. He felt perhaps he should say something about that but he had resolved to simply come in, firmly explain the facts to her, and leave.

So addressing his naked daughter, he said "Do you understand that you... we... you must never do anything like that again?"

"I know that's what you said," she said sadly.

"Why did you think that was okay?"

She looked up at him. "Well, I mean Dad. I've seen your porn."

He blanched.

"You like playful bratty young girls, and I can totally be that for you."

"I'm sorry you saw that but don't you understand, that it's completely different with you because you're my daughter?"

"I mean you do watch a lot of 'step-daughter' porn," she deadpanned.

From having gone white, he now turned red. "That is... That doesn't mean I... That's not how it works! We're a real live father and daughter. You know that's different."

"It is different Daddy, I know." She shrugged and looked off to the side. "I know that's what they say. I can't explain it. I'm sorry, but the fact that you're my dad makes me want to... do stuff with you... more, not less. I know that makes me different but it's how I am. And after I saw what you like to look at and, well, you know, noticed you getting hard sometimes, I thought you were... different... like me."

He was quiet, looking at the floor. Can he acknowledge this out loud? "Whatever the case may be," he said carefully, "It doesn't matter because it's wrong. Even if we thought it was a good idea right now, over the years... it would probably ruin you."

"I understand," she said. "Daddy, I'll stop, and I'm sorry. And I know this is ridiculous of me to ask but if we're never going to do anything like that ever again will you please. Please. Just kiss me one last time?"

He looked at her, grimaced and sighed. He shook his head from side to side.

She stood up, her naked form appearing to him now like that of an irresistible nymph. She reached her arm out in an inviting gesture. "Daddy, one last time. Please don't make this end like this, with you mad and me sad. Let's kiss, and say our goodbye's, and never bring it up again."

He closed his eyes. He felt tears welling up, and not for the "right" reason. He felt the same necessity she did. The same compelling desire to end this on a note of physical reconciliation. It was like their bodies were drawn to each other to put a seal on the day's events.

His eyes still closed, he walked toward her. Opening his eyes he took her extended hand, said, "Okay, one kiss," and drew her towards him.

They kissed for a long while. He held her head in his hands, gently placing her in the best places to appreciate every angle of her lips. Then he grasped her arm with one hand and her back with the other and pulled her in to squeeze against him as they continued their kiss.

He began to pull away when she started unbutton his shirt. "Please Daddy" she murmured, "Just for our last kiss, I just want to feel you against my chest, please."

He allowed it. When her breasts touched him just below his own nipples, he felt her shiver in physical pleasure.

He drew his face away from hers and gazed at her for a few seconds. "Is it... over?" she asked.

"Not yet. This is still technically a kiss," he said, bending down a little and placing his mouth on her nipple. He began kissing it. She gasped, and pulled him in, walking backwards and falling to the bed.

He fell beside her, and continued kissing her nipples, moving from one to the other and returning to her mouth occasionally. When she began masturbating he did not stop her.

She came so close to having her third orgasm at her father's hands right then, but they heard the door open downstairs. His wife Anne's voice: "I'm home!"

They leapt up. Isabella pulled her blanket over her body. He saw a gleam in her eyes. She was almost laughing, he supposed as a panic reaction. He himself was frantically putting his shirt back on and running as quietly as he could to his own room next to hers.

"Dan? Isabella?"

Dan answered "Up here!" Isabella remained silent.

He walked out of his room and looked downstairs towards Anne. She was holding in her hand a dirty dish, walking up the stairs. "Looks like Isabella forgot. Again. Why didn't you remind her?"

He stood sheepishly before his lovely wife, annoyed at his failure and feeling sorry about what he knew was about to happen to the daughter he'd just given almost three orgasms.

As Anne knocked on Isabella's door and walked right in he said quietly, "I guess I just thought she should be able to remember on her own."

Isabella was still under the covers, looking tense. He knew then that she'd been trying to finish herself off and hadn't yet succeeded. Mom held up the dish, "Taking a nap?" she grinned sternly if you can imagine that. "Without doing your chores?"

Isabella said quietly, "I'm sorry mommy."

"Well, you'll be sorry in a minute, and then you'll do the dishes. Get in position."

Isabella hesitated. "Isabella, now!" said Anne.

Playing his role as father he reiterated. "Do as your mother says."

He and his daughter blushed at the same time but there was no reason for Anne to notice something like that.

Isabella slowly, gingerly removed herself from her blanket and revealed her nakedness, now, to her mom. Anne laughed, "That is some bad luck for you! In position!"

Isabella nodded, and took up position next to her bed, on her knees, elbows on the bed as though she were praying.

Anne looked over at Dan, who was standing still. He noticed from the color of her face she seemed embarrassed to have caught her daughter in the nude like this, but she was handling it in her usual smooth authoritative way. "Uh, Dan?" she said. "Your belt?" There was a breathy character to her question. She really seemed nervous about the whole situation.

"Of course!" he said sheepishly and immediately removed his belt and handed it to her.

As was standard in their household, they both spanked her in turn. Ten swats from mom, then ten from dad, so that neither of them became what they jokingly called "the punishment monster." They had an equal hand in disciplining their daughter.

Isabella was already weeping before mom was finished, as usual, and then Dan took the belt and, being stronger than Anne, hit the weeping girl ten times even harder. Her ass waved desperately and he was reminded too much of the way her pelvis had bucked up and down while she masturbated. He felt himself getting hard--he honestly had never felt this way while spanking her, even on the rare occasions when they did decide to administer a naked spanking. All he could do was hope neither of them noticed. He didn't know what Isabella would think of him being excited by something like this.

When he was finished Anne said, "When you're done crying go do the dishes. You can put some clothes on once you've done all of them."

"Yes Ma'am... wait, I have to do it naked?"

This was completely new ground. Anne just said, "Yep! And get it done fast or there's more in store."

"Yes Ma'am" Isabella sobbed, and with that Anne and Dan exited her room.

Anne grabbed his hand and pulled her into their own room, locking the door, and immediately working on taking his shirt off once again.

While Isabella cleaned the dishes in the nude downstairs, her parents fucked like animals upstairs.

--

The next day he came home from work around five as usual, and as usual his daughter was home before him. Unusually, but understandably given last night, he could hear she was already doing the dishes.

He walked past the kitchen heading toward the living room, then stopped, and looked again at what he'd seen out of the corner of his eye. She was standing at the sink completely naked.

"Uh, you know mom just meant last night you had to be naked, not every day, right?"

Isabella turned her head toward him and laughed. "Oh hey! I honestly wasn't sure but... I figured you might enjoy the view. We don't have to touch I just thought it might be fun to let you see."

He stared, visions running through his mind of last night, of her almost orgasming while he eagerly grasped and kissed her breasts and her face. He finally said, "You are indeed beautiful. Please put your clothes back on before mom gets home?"

She chuckled, "Of course Daddy," and went back to her work.

When she was finished she came into the living room, still naked. She stood at the doorway for a long while looking at the TV screen he had on for background noise while messing on his phone. "So uh," she said.

He looked up, trying not to either stare stupidly or look away stupidly. "Yes?"

"I said we don't have to touch if you don't want to but, did you know... I never came last night?"

"I uh... hadn't thought about it," he lied.

She laughed walking forward a bit, arching her eyebrow. "Maybe you should think about it. I could have got myself off last night but I decided to just lay there and think about yesterday after school instead. And never did let myself come."

"Well," he said, "What did you do that for?"

She was still walking towards him. "I don't understand myself sometimes as you know Dad but, in any case, it does kind of feel like you owe me one now."

She was now up on his lap straddling him. He could almost not even remember her walking the distance, she was just there. Almost reflexively, before he could think, he had grasped her butt like he might have a girl at a strip club. It happened in an instant, and just as he was starting to think "Wait this is still my daughter" he simultaneously guided her hips downward, and she started grinding her pussy against the bulge in his pants.