Magnus and His Family Ch. 02

Kristen found the bed empty when she awoke the next morning. With a little whimper she reached over to the depression in the bed where Magnus's body had been, finding the spot still warm. She rushed to get up and accompany him for the morning meal: surely there would be lots to talk about, now that they had crossed the threshold into a new phase in their relationship!

But in fact, breakfast passed almost without a word. As they ate their bowls of cereal and sipped their coffee, they said very little—but the looks they gave each other spoke volumes. She gazed at him with aching desire, while he cast a glance of tranquil love and gratitude that at least made Kristen feel that her actions of the night before were welcome—and perhaps to be repeated sometime. The world believed that what they had already done—let alone what both, in the forefront of their minds, were contemplating for the future—was an abomination; but to each of them it was nothing more or less than a confirmation of the love they had shared for many years.

Kristen still had a lot of errands to run before classes started the following week, and after a quick shower she got right to them. Magnus had his own work to do, supervising the construction of a new house a mile or two away. His schedule could be irregular, but Kristen knew that he would have a full day of work ahead of him.

She had come back from her tasks by mid-afternoon, and felt strangely out of sorts and lonely to find the house empty. The idea of taking a nap occurred to her, even though she almost never indulged in afternoon naps; but the thought of such a thing was now so close to what she actually wanted to do with him that she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Magnus returned somewhat earlier than she expected, around 4 p.m. As she rushed to greet him, he almost lifted her up from the floor, giving her a big bear-hug and a firm kiss on the mouth, then setting her back down again. The contact was enthralling, but ended too quickly, as he made clear that he wanted to take a shower to make himself presentable before dinner.

It was far too early to begin preparations for that meal, so Kristen again lapsed into a state of indecisive frustration. But then she heard her father calling her from the upstairs bathroom:

"Kristen, could you please come up here?"

Elated, she rushed up the stairs—and was met by Magnus, standing on the landing between the four bedrooms on that floor. He was naked.

Seeing him standing there like some living Greek statue of Zeus sent a bone-shaking shudder through her. All she could see was the wide shoulders, the barrel chest, the thick, muscular thighs, and the surprisingly delicate feet, topped by a face that radiated both calm and a sort of suppressed excitement.

And she could readily see why: he was already sporting a large erection.

Somehow it was only now, when he was in a standing position, that she was able to gain a proper sense of the length and girth of that magnificent organ. It was actually quivering with anticipation, seeming to grow larger before her very eyes.

She wasn't certain what exactly he wanted to do. But he silently made his intentions clear by extending his thick arms, and she fell readily into his embrace.

For a time he just held her close—and the strange feeling of being entirely clothed while he was entirely naked was about as stimulating as any sensation she had ever felt. But then, as her heart began to beat more excitedly, he slowly started undressing her.

First, pulling her a little away, he carefully unbuttoned the blouse from the front, releasing it from the skirt where it had been tucked in, and then tossing it carelessly away. Then, with equal care, he unzipped her skirt at the side and let it fall quietly to her feet. She stepped out of it, now wearing only bra and panties. He again brought her close to his chest while at the same time unclasping the bra from the back. For a moment they were motionless; only after what seemed like minutes did he again make her step back, letting the bra fall of its own accord to the floor. With a single motion he drew the panties down to her feet.

Now she was naked in front of him.

She was thrilled at how his eyes widened and twinkled as he drank in the exquisite beauty of her form. She had often thought that she had a "girlish" figure; certainly, she couldn't boast the expansive bosom that her mother had. But she hoped that her own modestly sized breasts at least had nice contours that men would appreciate; and her heart swelled—and those breasts did too—when she saw how her father's gaze fastened onto her chest while he licked his lips. Then his eyes proceeded down to her hips, thighs, and especially to her abdomen, where that fine triangle of straight black hair covered her sex.

"You're so beautiful, Kristen," Magnus said softly. Kristen again seemed on the verge of passing out.

But instead she jumped to attention when Magnus went on to say: "Please suck my cock."

A sudden agitation overcame her. She had heard from her girl friends that men always liked this procedure, but few of them had gone into any detail as to how it was to be done. She herself licked her lips in anticipation of what she was supposed to do—but the thought flashed through her mind, Are we going to do it right here? Shouldn't we go to the bed and lie down?

But clearly Magnus wasn't budging, as his widely spaced feet indicated. That cock was shaking at her as if impatient for her to begin—but how?

Kristen had no recourse except to fall to her knees. She was staring at that burgeoning member as it quivered inches from her face. It was now standing almost straight up, and she was surprised at how much effort it took to bring it to a perpendicular position. Again licking her lips, she just plunged as much of it into her mouth as she could.

That was only about three inches, which left almost two-thirds of it extending out of her mouth—and as she peered at it, she wondered at the boasts of her friends of doing "deep throat" without gagging or choking. For her part, she was content to use both her lips and her tongue to stimulate the thick, firm rod, while her small hand gripped the base of it. The texture she found extraordinary. Sure, she had touched it with her hand the night before, but in her mouth the simultaneous hardness and softness of it was accentuated.

Magnus was gently holding the sides of her head with his hands and pumping his cock into her mouth ever so gently, realizing that her inexperience was causing her some difficulty. He himself was enraptured by the sensation: he had always loved the feel of his member in a woman's mouth, and he had even persuaded Imogen to engage in the harmless gesture of putting lipstick on before she did the deed, for he loved the sight of ruby-red lips engulfing his organ.

But whatever feelings Magnus might have had were dwarfed by his daughter's. As the cock slid wetly back and forth in her mouth, it came to seem like a living thing, all apart from the body to which it was attached. She tried as much as possible to lick the tip as it went by her tongue, for all her friends had told her that men love that feeling. She herself grabbed Magnus's hips, and then his bottom, becoming so overwhelmed by its firmness and rondure that she had trouble paying attention to the task at hand.

But there wasn't much more to do. She could hear her father's grunts changing to deep moans, and she knew that the culmination was approaching.

What should she do now? Should she pull the cock out of her mouth and finish the job with her hand? Somehow the idea of the thick fluid emerging from that tiny opening at the tip of his member and shooting into her mouth and down her throat terrified her; but Magnus was continuing to hold her head firmly in place, so she didn't seem to have much choice in the matter.

All of a sudden she took one hand from his bottom and started playing with his balls. The act had an immediate effect: Magnus cried out gruffly, and dollops of his discharge shot out of his mouth and onto her tongue. She herself began moaning uncontrollably as she clung to his hips, and further jolts of his emission slid down her throat. Her lips continued to encircle his cock until every drop had dribbled out.

She made a face. "Daddy," she cried, "it's so salty!"

"I know, dear," Magnus said between breaths, his face beet-red.

"Why is it salty?"

"I have no idea, dear. I'm not a biologist."

She concluded that she didn't actually dislike the taste; it just wasn't what she was expecting.

She was also not expecting what would happen next. Magnus looked entirely enervated, although in a thoroughly satisfied way, his eyes shining and a dreamy smile curling his lips. But as she finally let the cock slip out of her mouth and gazed up at him, he raised her up to her feet and held her close; then, without warning, he swooped her up in his arms and carried her into his bedroom.

Omigod! she thought. Is this the moment when he—?

It wasn't, but what followed was nice enough. He took her over to the loveseat (appropriate place!) across from the bed and deposited her carefully there. As she sat uncertainly, looking up at him, he fell to his knees, parted her legs, and buried his face in her sex.

She gasped as the thick bristle of his beard and then his lips came into contact with those nether lips of hers, moist with her own excitement. He parted them gently with his fingers, then began kissing, sucking, and even nuzzling that delicate nub that was the focal point of her sexuality. With a whimper she held his head close, just as he had done when she had given him that first wondrous blowjob, and luxuriated in the complex feelings—delight, excitement, wonder, and a faint soupçon of naughtiness (God, my father is licking my pussy!)—as Magnus wrapped his arms around her backside and ministered to her needs. Kristen found her ecstasy radiating from her delta all through her body and mind, and she unconsciously grabbed her own breasts to augment the sensation. Within minutes she detected the beginning of her climax; and when it exploded, Magnus, as he had done before, carefully nurtured it with gentle strokes of lips and tongue until she had to move his head away, lest she simply collapse in a faint.

"Oh, Daddy," she gasped, "that was fabulous!"

"I'm glad you liked it," he reply wryly, his face glistening from her juices. "I've had a fair amount of practice."

"I bet you have!" she cried happily. On Mom? Or on other women as well?

Magnus rested his head on Kristen's lap, as she stroked it vigorously. It was the tenderest moment they had shared together, sitting here naked in his bedroom just like . . . But it was over all too soon.

Magnus got up slowly. His cock seemed to have be swelling a bit, and Kristen wondered if he wanted something more. But, although he gazed down lovingly at her, he said, "You'd better get dressed. I guess it's almost time for dinner." Translation: It's time you started making dinner.

She sighed inwardly as she saw him stride out of the room.

Kristen made an extra-special dinner and spent the whole meal fixated on him; but he just ate the meal calmly and with few words. Her heart was just about to burst with love for him, and she yearned to express that love both in word and deed; but she knew that he would be the one to determine how much farther their intimacy would go.

At least it seemed to be mutually understood that she would now occupy his bed rather than her own. That night she wondered whether there would be any more action, but Magnus was content to cuddle her a little (not excluding some soft groping of her bottom over her sheer nightgown) before going to sleep.

The next day, Saturday, Kristen was in a state of suppressed excitement. She met some of her high school friends one last time. Many of them were going to other colleges, and some were not going to college at all; and she wondered how often, if at all, she would ever see these girls again. Several of them were among her closest companions, but with college looming it became clear to her that she would eventually gain a whole new cadre of friends and leave her entire high school life behind her.

It was partly that realization, as well as another feeling she couldn't articulate, that led her to remain at home Saturday evening, even though several of her friends had begged her to go out on the town one last time before the rigors of college began next week.

Instead, she prepared one of her father's favorite meals—porterhouse steak, mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables—and concluded it with a big slice (for him) of a store-bought cheesecake. Magnus ate it with every sign of relish and appreciation, and afterwards, as if gratified that she had decided to spend the evening with him, he sat her down on the living-room couch and watched a romantic comedy (usually something he despised) with her. She nestled against him as he wrapped his heavy, muscular arm around her. In some ways she felt very small; but in other ways she almost felt his equal.

When it was over, she gazed at him longingly; she couldn't utter a word. But he had a clear idea of what she was thinking, and it didn't surprise her in the least when he picked her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to his bedroom.

Even before preparing dinner, she had slipped into a nightgown—not the little baby-doll thing that she liked, but a long, comfortable one that fell down to her ankles. But she could tell that Magnus still appreciated the intimacy it implied, and she liked to think that even this cotton gown accentuated at least some of her curves.

He placed her on her feet in the middle of the room. Then, without taking his eyes off of her, he proceeded to undress—slipper, socks, shirt, pants, and then his underwear. When he revealed his nakedness to her, she took note of his erection as something entirely predictable: after all, she was a tempting little item! He strode quietly over to her and, taking both sides of the nightgown with his hands, slipped it over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. She was naked underneath.

She loved the way he licked his lips in anticipation of what he—and she—knew was to come. This was the moment she had been waiting for, and she was convinced she was ready.

As she fell to her knees, she knew that the stimulation of his cock with her mouth, lips, and tongue was only preliminary—didn't they call it "foreplay"? His closed eyes and gentle moans bespoke his pleasure, and she thrilled at the feel of his member growing ever firmer in her mouth; but after a few minutes he pulled it out and raised her up to a standing position, then led her to the bed.

As she lay flat on her back, her legs bent and parted, he began by lying directly on top of her and paying homage to her small but exquisitely shaped breasts. Taking both of them in his hands, he kneaded them like dough before coaxing her nipples to an erect hardness with his mouth; sometimes he even gently bit them, eliciting a little squeal of delight from Kristen. Then he proceeded down to her stomach and belly, kissing and licking the whole way. When he got to her cleft, already dripping with wetness, he inhaled deeply, as if absorbing the heady aroma of that area (Do I smell and taste different from Mom? she wondered). Then he began licking her.

As she arched her back in pleasure, she wondered if this was also only "foreplay" or whether he was going to bring her to culmination. It became obvious that he was intent on the latter, for he seized her bottom with both hands, squeezing and stroking it as he stimulated her labia and clitoris with a gentle vigor that made her so wet that she felt a little embarrassed at the juices that were flowing out of her and directly into his mouth. She clutched the sheets with her fists in an agony of anticipation: she simultaneously wanted her climax to come right this minute and wanted it to be delayed indefinitely, so that she could continue to see and feel his face all but attached to her sex. But the orgasm did come in a rush, sooner than she expected it, and again he managed to extend it for minute after minute until she could take no more.

As she lay gasping, moaning, and almost sobbing, he gazed down placidly at her, even though his own cock seemed to be harder and thicker than she had ever seen it. She looked up at him with ineffable longing, and he sensed that the time for the ultimate union had come.

As he got into position on top of her, a thought suddenly occurred to him.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" he said almost casually.

"Of course I haven't, Daddy!" she cried impatiently. "You know I didn't have any boyfriends in high school."

"Um," he said awkwardly, "I—I thought you might have just done it with someone."

That miffed her a bit. What does he think I am? Does he imagine I'd just part my legs for a boy—any boy—just to say "I've done it"?

"Well, Daddy," she said tartly, "I haven't."

The sudden realization that his daughter was "untouched" seemed to throw Magnus off balance. A quizzical look came over his face, and he froze in place.

"Daddy," she went on in a softer voice as she noticed his discomfiture, "I want you to be the first. I'm ready, really I am."

"You sure?" he said skeptically.

"Yes!" she cried. "Really and truly."

He still seemed dubious as he used his hand to guide his cock into position. As she saw the huge thing knocking on the door of her pussy, a sudden alarm came over her. Omigod! It's really happening! She wondered how much blood there would be, and whether she could take in his member even halfway, let alone the whole way.

Magnus was not insensitive to her apprehension, and he said soothingly, "Just relax, dear."

Then he went in.

It was a slow, delicate progression, and since he was still propping himself up with his other hand as he slipped in, she could see his organ entering her inch by inch. She looked on in awe as it seemed to disappear in her—but then it encountered that familiar obstacle. She couldn't help emitting a little whimper of fear, and Magnus tried to calm her with a stroke of her hand on her face. Then he broke through the obstacle.

He knew that it was impossible to be gentle in this procedure (although it had been more than two decades since he had had a virgin), and his heart ached at the thought of what his poor daughter was going through. She let out a sharp cry of pain, and tears sprang from her eyes; but both were fully aware that this was an unavoidable part of her passage from girl to woman, and she endured it bravely as he slipped in about halfway. She now felt his body engulfing her, and she instinctively raised her legs and bent her knees to allow him easier access to her innermost recesses. She had flung her arms around his neck, and he was now using his hands to stroke her face, breasts, hips, and bottom as he began pumping gently.

With each thrust he seemed to enter her a little more, and her eyes widened as she sought to encompass his entire length. There was a strange feeling of expansion inside her as his cock probed the full extent of her vagina, and she felt a curious duality of sensations at the same time—she was filled, but she was also incorporating his body into hers. It was the fusion of body and mind that she had been yearning for; and at this moment she lost all sense of him being the progenitor of her own existence. He was a man, and she was a woman—that's all that mattered.

Magnus's mouth was glued to hers, and she could now hear—almost feel—a kind of low growling from deep within his throat. Omigod! His climax was approaching, and Kristen suddenly felt alarm at the thought of it. But she wrapped her legs tighter around his legs and held onto his neck and shoulders like someone clinging to an outcropping of rock on a precipitous cliff.