Knock Me Up, Daddy

Here, they were just lovers.

Pretty skilled lovers if he did say so himself, Stan thought with a silent smirk. It wasn't exactly riding a bike but with the right woman, he could still move mountains. Of course, she couldn't be the right woman, could she? He wouldn't think of it and instead asked his daughter, "are you hungry honey?"

"You brought me food?" Melissa put her hand on his chest. It was casual, all this touching, easy and natural and Stan didn't think he could see her now and not be intimate. "Of course you did," she answered her own question. "You're the perfect man."

"Just a cubano from Glorioso's with extra mustard," he said before he nibbled her other calf. "And a tiramisu, in case."

She hummed with pleasure, "my favorite."

"I bought a bottle of champagne. It's got to be cold by now," Stan volunteered. "But I have Coke too in case you're not drinking," he wouldn't jinx it by discussing it.

Melissa put her legs down and sat up. His daughter put her arms around his neck and said in a voice that made his pulse quicken, "I'm not hungry for food yet Daddy." She kissed just his upper lip, and bathed his face with her warm breath, "I'm still hungry for you."

Stan was as well. In spirit at least but his cock was soft and had tucked back into itself. "I think I need a little more rest, darling girl," he wasn't in practice but he hoped Melissa would consider this being something regular. The thought of making love with her while pregnant was almost enough to put iron in his boner again. He imagined her round and lovely, flushed and pink. He could see her, with her dark tresses cascading down her back and her creamy thighs, thicker now, rounder. In his mind's eye, she parted those juicy thighs to beckon to him to come and lick her blossoming body from head to toe. He wanted to worship the fertility goddess in all of her splendor.

"Lay down, Daddy," she whispered with a mischievous grin. "It's my turn," she said. Melissa had always been a little bossy and Stan had always given her her way.

He lay with his head on the pillow where her bottom had been. He was intoxicated with her scent and her dampness and the warmth of her. He opened his legs and gave his daughter access to all of him. His dick was small and hidden now. His balls were fleshy once more but one long look at the dark haired girl whose small hands were on his thighs and Stan knew he'd be hard for her again. She bowed her head and began with her soft lips on his bristly patch of hair. She inhaled deeply and whispered between kisses, "You smell good Daddy."

"Just Irish Spring," he said with a shrug.

Melissa kissed him to his meaty sack and her breath gave him goosebumps. She confessed, "I know. I've always loved your smell." Her mouth opened and her tongue traced around one ball and then the other, a little jolt of sensation that brought life back to his cock. It rolled, as if eager to invite her kisses elsewhere.

Stan wasn't used to this kind of attention and reached down to gently push her hair back. "That feels so good, honey."

"Good," Melissa said, her voice muffled between his legs. Her tongue was a wet tease as she eased her way back to his perineum. She licked and lingered and her saliva dripped dangerously close to his asshole and just the thought of her touching him there made Stan gasp. He'd never been touched there, only by the doctor. That finger had left behind a desire that he'd secretly wished to be fulfilled since he'd first felt it. His daughter's tongue found his rear entry and the wet tip caressed his sensitive skin there.

Stan's whole body shivered with pleasure.

The sound that came from him was one of astonishment, he was shocked by the ecstasy on his tender, pink skin. He rocked his body back and forth, he wanted something that he couldn't say. Instead he only whispered, "Oh honey," as he felt his cock pulse. With every little touch of her tongue on his asshole, he craved more and his dick did too. What was she doing to him and how did she know?

Melissa's fingertip traced a trembling circle around his anus and Stan quivered with need. God, her breath on his sensitive skin, her touch, her tongue, it was a lightning bolt of desire that pounded in this previously forbidden place. His daughter must know what he craved. There was no hiding it or denying it as Stan felt his ass push back and forth. He slipped and slid in the wetness below as she licked and teased and brought his flesh to life. If he could have dared to ask, he would have. As it was, Stan just panted and said please again and again but just in his mind.

She slowly pushed her small index finger inside and Stan's cock instantly unfurled to its full length with a cry. "Honey," Stan gasped and then just gave himself over to the crafty, little digit that wracked him with delight and sent waves of pleasure through him.

Melissa raised her head and shifted between his legs. Stan was harder than he had been when she walked in the door and his dick demanded attention. Flailing precum as it pulsed to her tempo, Stan met her gaze as she watched. It was a powerful thing, to have a man in this position, he thought as he moaned once more. A little girl wasn't supposed to have this much power over her Daddy. Perhaps that was what Melissa thought as she licked her bottom lip and whispered, "my sweet, sweet Daddy."

His daughter licked the puddle of his liquid from his slit and Stan's thighs clenched as he watched. As she slowly licked the underneath curve of the head of his cock, Stan clutched the comforter and held on tight. With her finger still inside, she beckoned to him with it, saying, "come here, Daddy," as she opened her mouth and took him inside.

Her mouth was wet as rain and her tongue kept time with her finger and Stan was her breathless instrument. He worked himself back and forth on her finger and the ecstasy reverberated from deep inside. Forward he thrust deeper into the hot, open well of his daughter's greedy mouth and hummed at the feel of her, molten and hungry for him.

Stan had never been so close to exploding and yet he never wanted this to end. Melissa drew her mouth tighter around his shaft. She bathed him in her saliva and the wet noises from fucking her mouth grew louder as she picked up the pace. The tip of her tongue was right there on the little valley on his head and it made Stan shake. Jesus Christ, what was she doing to him? The introduction of the second finger was too much, too perfect. He gasped as his cock trembled. His balls were drawn up and he ached to explode down his daughter's throat.

Then again, they were making a baby, weren't they?

Stan pulled back, "Honey, honey," he warmed her, "if you don't want me to cum in your mouth." He couldn't finish the sentence but let out a cry that meant he wasn't sure if he could help it anymore.

Melissa stayed right there.

His daughter continued to suck him. She picked up the pace and her lips held him tighter. She looked him in the eye. Those dark blue eyes, storm clouds ready to crackle open with the heat there. She wanted it, she wanted him, she wanted to taste her own father's creamy seed down in her belly.

She knew that Daddy always gave her what she wanted. Stan cried out, "My little girl," which might have been the most inappropriate thing to say when a hot, thick spurt of pent up cum tore from what seemed like the very bottom of his soul, but it was too late. Stan squeezed his throbbing anus around her fingers as he whispered it again and again and fed his daughter every last drop.

Melissa kept her mouth on him, she drained him dry and Stan quivered under her long after the fluid was gone. The exquisite sensations continued and he rolled on the peaks and valleys until his cock slipped from her mouth. Melissa removed her fingers and lay her head on his pelvis.

Stan caught his breath and patted his chest. He needed her there, on that place where she had laid her head ever since he could remember. Right at the center of his chest where his darling daughter could hear how his heart beat for her. "Come up here, honey," he clasped Melissa in his arms as she pressed her little face there. "Honey, that was amazing." He had to ask though, "aren't I supposed to be getting you pregnant sweetheart?"

Melissa looked up. There it was, her mischievous smile that was something reminiscent of her playing a prank on the neighbors. It had been missing for a while and it did Stan's heart good to see her looking happy again. "That was just for me Daddy," she told him before laying her head down again.

Stan decided that he would give her that any time she wanted.

***

Melissa

Even in an apron, she could barely keep her eyes off of him. They had known that today was going to be torture. They had talked about it on Monday, which had been the first time that either one of them acknowledged that anyone else existed outside of their penthouse love nest.

What was happening to her, Melissa wondered as she sat on the couch next to Steve. Thanksgiving was like this every year, or at least since she and her brothers had moved out. The boys started drinking beer early and spent the day flipping from football game to football game. Apparently Steve fit right in. She was always bored out of her mind and she was considered unfit to help with the cooking. Her mother was always stressed about everything, too stressed to talk to. That had always left hanging out with Dad.

Normally he'd spend the day being Mom's slave and sneaking sips of beer in here and there to take the edge off. Melissa knew that she couldn't hang out with him like that, not anymore. Not when she was sure that everyone could tell what was going on just by the glow on their faces. She was positive that they lit up when they saw each other. Today was the first time that she hadn't automatically hugged her father upon coming in the house but something inside her made her freeze in her tracks. Her clit was full and hard, she could feel it out from its hiding place. It felt huge and seemed to be standing at attention for her father to notice. He'd paid such careful attention to it each of the four times that they'd made love. Her clit ached and her nipples were hard under the baggy sweater. Her panties were soaked through under her jeans and Melissa had never had such an immediate and overwhelming response to a man.

Only her dad brought that out in her.

Hugs were off limits and so were casual little pecks. When he had taken off her coat this morning, they both knew that there was no stopping their mouths anymore. Melissa knew him well enough at this point to know that heated expression. It was the face he made when looking up at her, about to part her lower lips with his tongue. It was the look that he had just before thrusting his cock inside. It was the look that was hunger unlike anything she'd ever experienced before.

After being with her father four times, it seemed ridiculous to the point that Melissa almost rolled her eyes at the thought that Steve was her best lover. Sure, Steve was better than any of the other idiots that she'd fucked before him. Steve almost had a six pack and she was sure after today's indulgences that he'd be right back on the wagon of macros and reps. Steve's triceps were capital L's when he was on top. Steve's smile made coeds drop their panties but he couldn't hold a candle to her father.

She was addicted to the feel of her dad's skin on hers. He had a little softness around his belly but Dad had real muscles underneath. They were muscles from working, not posing in front of a mirror at the gym. Her father's cock wasn't huge by any means and neither he or Steve were the biggest that she'd ever known but her Dad's cock was perfect. Perfectly pink with that perfectly round head, the perfect girth for her to squeeze tightly. Even his taste was something new and sweet and lingered in her mouth long after they parted. She was fairly certain that her father felt the same way about her because each time they made love was more and more intense. The moment he opened the door until the moment he closed it behind them to leave, it was a cornucopia of heady, carnal delights. They simply couldn't keep their hands off each other.

Today, the only thing to do was avoid him.

Melissa couldn't help but take little glances at her Dad in the kitchen. He would stop and ask her mother if she needed help. He would pat her hand and tuck a piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. Melissa wondered if that was jealousy bubbling up inside or was she pregnant? The way he spoke to her was so kind and yet, her mother seemed to be frozen over. The look she gave him was frosty if she looked at him at all. Melissa knew that her father was sleeping in the guest bedroom and that was supposed to be a big secret.

What if her mother knew? Of course she didn't know, but couldn't she sense it in her gut the way that Melissa could feel in hers when Steve came home late?

She glanced over at her husband, his eyes riveted on the screen. He touched her less and less and since she'd started sleeping with her father, Melissa hardly ever thought about it, let alone missed it. She was too well loved, too consumed with every inch of her Dad.

Her mother called out, "Melissa, can you go to the basement and get the centerpiece that's in the Crate & Barrel box on the far shelves?" Her mother had an organizational system that wasn't to be disturbed. Frankly Melissa was surprised to think that her mother would count on her to do this properly.

Andy and Marty were paralyzed, beers in hand. Andy held the remote and his index finger paused over the channel button like a trigger. Why didn't they have to help? "Why can't the boys do it?" Melissa wanted to know.

Her mother came around the corner from the kitchen and into the living room with a click of her heels. Her mother looked beautiful today, like always. Every blonde hair was perfectly in place and the blue dress fit her like a second skin. If she didn't have such a puss on her face, Melissa thought while she suppressed a giggle, she'd really be gorgeous. With her hands on her hips, Mom asked, "Why can't you do it? It's not like you're helping in the kitchen."

And that's what it was, in a nutshell. Her mother was still secretly mortified that Melissa was not a housewife. She'd mention it whenever she could and today, Melissa was tempted to throw it back in her face. Her father stood behind her mother and looked Melissa up and down with an odd combination of lust and fear. He was obviously pleading with her not to start any shit with his wife. "Fine," Melissa said with a shrug and stood up.

"Your father can help you," her mother replied as she headed back to her preparations.

"No, that's okay," alone in the basement with Dad, Melissa felt her chest tighten as if she were wearing something form fitting and not the baggy sweater. "Steve can help me," she couldn't be trusted alone with her father.

Steve looked up and grimaced, he wasn't going to move unless it was for food. "Babe, football," was all he said. It wasn't really a no, not here in front of his in-laws. Steve would never come right out and do that.

Fucking pussy, Melissa thought to herself.

Her mother continued, "No, your father will be happy to go with you. It's not like he's being especially helpful today anyway."

Fucking bitch, Melissa thought to herself and rolled her eyes once she was out of her mother's line of sight. She headed for the basement with her father close on her heels. Their feet pounded on the wooden steps all the way to the bottom of the stairs in the dark.

Her father didn't turn on the light but instead, reached her shoulders and pulled her into him. "Thank god she needs this stupid turkey or whatever it is," he whispered into her hair, "I am going crazy in there not touching you."

Melissa reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him. She was so much smaller than him and she loved how she felt so taken care of in his arms. "Me too, Daddy. This is so weird," she murmured, lost for a moment as she wondered, what was she doing? She was ruining every family get together forever, wasn't she?

There was no time to answer the question because her father's mouth caught hers and immediately the kiss was urgent and burned her lips. His tongue possessed her fully, deeply; fucking her mouth with it in the same methodical way that he fucked her with his cock. He took her slow and hard, hard enough that she was left with a trace of soreness, a reminder every time that she sat down that a man had laid claim to her. It was that kind of kiss. Melissa was breathless and shaking as his hands brought her bottom to him. He kissed her on the mouth while his erection thumped in his pants and begged her for release. He was so warm there. Melissa knew that if she let her hand meander down to his zipper and slid the bit of metal down and freed his glorious dick, that she'd have to fuck him.

God, what if her mother caught them?

She kept her hands firmly in his hair as the kiss melted her to him.

What if Steve caught them?

Melissa pulled back, out of breath and put her hand over her mouth. If she was a good person, she would stop this right now. She wasn't just a cheater, she was the worst kind of cheater. It wasn't something that she'd really planned but of course, those kisses on her wedding day weren't entirely innocent and they were never really about her nerves. "Daddy, we have to stop," she shook her head at him and took three steps to the light switch that she flicked on. "Come on, we said we weren't going to do this," she reminded him with half a smile. Of course, that was all bullshit too, as if people could fuck like animals like this behind closed doors and it didn't permeate the rest of their lives.

He agreed, "I know, honey, you're right. I don't want to make this harder."

They walked to the shelves where the ornaments were all boxed up and labeled. Melissa stood in front of the table where her mother would wrap Christmas presents and wondered out loud, "What are we doing, Daddy?"

Her father stood behind her and placed his hands around her waist. He set his chin on top of her head and murmured, "Love makes you do crazy things, little girl."

Was she in love with him? Melissa felt the goosebumps rush down her spine as his hands moved down to her hips. She was melting under his touch. She could feel the slick spot at the center of her warm panties and her legs were weak as his fingers slowly worked their way from her hips to between her legs. Even her legs were saying that they should be in bed. What was she doing? "Oh god, Daddy," she opened her thighs. The jeans were suddenly too thick and constricting, "yes," was all she could say.

Her father's fingers trembled on the button of her jeans and then on her zipper and then on her panties as he pulled everything down to her ankles. He set her on the edge of the table and dropped to his knees. He looked up in worship, that look in his eyes, heated and full of desire, as if she were a goddess and he, a grateful supplicant. Melissa heard the jingle of his belt and fly as he pulled out his dick. Her father begged, "Spread your lips for me, honey. Please." He was hoarse and his tongue darted out to show her that he could hardly hold himself back. He needed to ravish her.

Melissa leaned back on the table and peeled her slippery lips apart for her father. God, it was perverse that she wanted him to see this. She wanted him to know what he did to her body, to her clit specifically. She wanted him to see that her clit had never been so large or so hot or so hard as it was for him. It pounded for him and felt huge as she opened herself. The noise that came from him, half a sob, half a growl, meant that he saw it too.

He lapped her clit with a voracious tongue and lips. This wasn't their typical slow winding tease and caress. It wasn't a day that went by far too quickly in the bed that seemed to be made for a father and a daughter to make love in every way they'd ever dreamed they would. This was fierce and ferocious and frantic and her Dad sucked her pulsing bud between his lips. He moved his head up and down and gave her head to the same rhythm that his hand moved on his cock.