Magnus and His Family Ch. 02

And then he came.

That growling turned into a long, low moan as he shot repeated jolts of his seed into her. Her mind almost exploded at the prospect. She was still feeling some pain, but it had transformed into a sort of dull throbbing; and the thick moistness in her pussy struck her as a salve to her discomfort. Even after he had finished, he remained in her, placing his substantial weight on her slight frame; but she didn't mind, and wished this moment of transcendent intimacy to last forever.

But finally he withdrew, and in a single motion he rolled over onto his back and flipped her over on top of him. He continued to hold her tight, as if unwilling to acknowledge that they were two separate creatures. She didn't mind in the least, especially since her mind was awhirl at what had just happened.

Only after several minutes did Magnus speak some gentle words directly into her ear. "We'd better clean you up, dear. You must have bled a little."

Somehow that realization had escaped her utterly. Maybe that's why he flipped me over! It's next to impossible to get bloodstains out of sheets. Kristen giggled irreverently at the thought. She couldn't have bled much; most of the wetness she was feeling was probably his. Another, more sober thought flitted through her mind. Gee, it's good that I just had my period. It wouldn't be good to get pregnant by my own father! She had a dim awareness that her father knew her cycle: that was why he had waited until now to take their relationship to a new level.

She tried to clamber off of him, but stumbled as she stepped onto the floor. Her legs were unexpectedly weak, and she had to cling to the backboard of the bed to remain standing. Magnus, his eyes wide in alarm, got to his feet and swooped her up again in his arms. It really wasn't necessary: she wasn't that weak! But she appreciated the gesture as he carried her tenderly into the bathroom.

Placing her on the toilet seat with the lid down, he signaled that she should spread her legs. He took a wet washcloth and mopped up both the blood—really not much at all—and his own seed as it leaked out of her. He seemed inclined to pick her up again and carry her back to the bed, but she noticed that he had forgotten something.

"Um, Daddy," she said, "there's blood on your . . ." She pointed at his groin.

He looked down at himself. "Oh, yes," he said with affecting embarrassment, and quickly wiped away the streaks of blood on his cock.

She didn't wish to appear a total weakling, so she tripped back to the bed on her own, her father following her.

Now began yet another wonderful part of the whole experience, as he wrapped her in his arms as she lay next to him. Nothing was said, and nothing needed to be said. Sure, something awesome and overwhelming—and, in the eyes of most of the world, appalling—had occurred; but for Kristen, as for Magnus, there were only feelings of love, closeness, and mutual satisfaction. They were both adults, and they had decided of their own free will to engage in this act of intimacy that had been outlawed in human society since the days of Oedipus; but how can something be wrong if it felt so good and so heartwarming?

As he stroked her shoulders, back, thighs, and bottom, she noticed—not without wonder mixed with just a hint of alarm—that that masculine rod at his groin was swelling again.

"Daddy!" she breathed, a shaky smile on her face. "You're getting big again."

"Yes, I am, dear," he said gently, belying his increasing agitation. "It's all your doing, you know."

"Do you really want more?"

"Only if you do."

"I'd love some . . . but I'm just a little sore down there."

Magnus pondered that comment for a moment as if digesting some inscrutable problem in quadratic equations. After several moments he said:

"There's something else we could do."

"What's that, Daddy?"

She knew that people engaged in intercourse in all kinds of different positions, some of them seemingly absurd or only possible to contortionists. But how would that get over the problem of her soreness? She really was sore, although she figured that she could probably take him at least once more if he really insisted. I don't want to disappoint him! I want to satisfy him in every possible way.

He lapsed again into silence, and then brought his lips to her ear. Once again he seemed to lapse into embarrassment as he whispered: "I could go into your bottom."

It took her a little while to understand exactly what he was proposing; and when she did so, she let out an involuntary gasp. She had heard about this procedure from her friends, some of whom boasted that they actually liked it; but for her part, Kristen wondered how that could be, and whether the act was even possible. (I mean, that hole is so small and tight!) How it could provide any pleasure to anybody—either the man or the woman—was also something of a quandary. But clearly people did it (and not just gay men, who didn't have any other way of penetrating each other).

Then another thought shot through her mind.

"Did you do that to Mom?" she whispered back.

"Yes, dear," he said calmly.

"And she—liked it?"

"She came to like it. She didn't at first."

It was now Kristen who fell silent as she pondered this new bit of information. Then she came to a sudden resolve.

"Okay, Daddy, you can go ahead. I can take it."

She was confused, even alarmed, when he released her and got up from the bed.

"Where are you going?" she cried.

"Need to get some lube," he said as he walked out of the room.

Kristen lapsed into an uneasy silence as she wondered what the lube could be, and how—or, rather, who—would apply it. Magnus came back within a minute, holding in his hand a little blue jar that was part of Kristen's makeup kit.

"Cold cream?" she exclaimed, with a burst of nervous laughter. "That's the lube you're going to use?"

"Yes, it works best," he said simply.

She was about to reach out and ask him to hand it over to her—but then she became convinced that he was going to do the application himself. The thought sent a little shudder through her, but she simply rolled over onto her stomach and lay flat on the bed, waiting for him to do his job like a little girl receiving a suppository from a trusted doctor.

The cool, wet substance did feel nice in that spot, although the first touch of his fingers in that forbidden area caused her to giggle uncontrollably. I'll never use that jar on my face again, that's for sure! He actually inserted several fingers into her orifice, coating the entire area thoroughly before pulling his fingers out and wiping them clean with some Kleenex.

"What do I do, Daddy?" she asked. "Get on hands and knees?" That was how one friend had told her the thing was done. It struck her as a bit like two dogs mating, and she didn't really like the thought of it.

"No, dear," he said. "Just lie flat."

Another shiver of alarm went through her. God, he'll crush me with his weight! But, as with their former bout of intimacy, Magnus made sure to prop himself up on his elbows so that the full weight of his body wouldn't fall on her. The first touch of his hard member on that nether opening made her gasp again, even though nothing had really happened. But when he began inserting it, inch by inch, that sense of expansion that she had felt in her pussy was magnified tenfold, and she felt a strange sensation of utter repletion. There's no way he can get that whole thing into me! He'll rupture something inside! Thankfully, he did stop about halfway—but that was enough for her to feel overwhelmed once again at the incredible intensity of their union. As he thrust back and forth into her, she lay helpless and almost comatose, as if she were some blow-up sex doll. Then she felt her father's hands reach around her sides and grasp her small breasts, the hands engulfing them as he continued to pummel her.

She couldn't even begin to describe what she was feeling. Was it pain? Was it ecstasy? It seemed to be an inextricable combination of both, and she found herself moaning in rhythm with each of his thrusts. Incrementally, he was probing her even more deeply, and she wondered if all eight inches of him were now deep inside her. The sense of time was entirely lost as she seemed to lapse into a state of suspended animation; nothing was real except the pumping of his hard member into her.

Then she heard that low growl again from his throat; and at the same time she felt one of his hands sliding down her body to grasp her sex. He had parted her labia and was stroking her clitoris, sending bewildering waves of pleasure through her as she went on feeling that bizarre mix of pain and delight in her bottom.

And when his seed began pouring into her, she cried out incoherently as tears sprang from her eyes. She heard his own cries as he came, his lips close to her ear. It seemed as if his discharge lasted for minutes, but it could only have been a few seconds.

As before, he continued to lie on top of her, and this time she really did feel crushed by his weight. His member was still firmly in her bottom, making her feel like a butterfly pinned to a piece of cork. One of his hands was grabbing both breasts, while the other was still gently tickling her sex, squeezing the last remnants of her own orgasm out of her.

"Daddy," she said in a choked voice, "please come out now."

He uttered a grunt and began the slow, delicate task of pulling out. Although it was obvious he was trying to be as gentle as he could be, his final act of withdrawal caused one more twinge of pain to course through her, and she couldn't help crying out again.

He got up hastily from the bed and headed to the bathroom, where he washed himself thoroughly. Then he returned to the bed. Seeing his daughter lying flat and motionless filled him with pity, and he gently took her in his arms again.

"Did that hurt, dear?" he said in that gentle bass voice of his.

"Yes," she said frankly. "But—but I liked it."

He brushed away her tears with tender fingers. "You don't have to say that just to please me."

"I did, Daddy!" she insisted. "It was so—intense. I've never felt anything like it."

"That's nice, dear."

"Do you think I'll get used to it?"

"You might."

"Did Mom?"

"Yes."

"How long did it take?"

"Oh, a couple times."

"Well, I'm ready to try again." Then, as she noticed his surprised expression: "I don't mean right now! But whenever you want to do that again, I'm sure I can manage." She chuckled softly. "Of course, I hope you like the other way too."

"I do, dear—very much."

Kristen snuggled closer to him, curling her arms around his neck as he nuzzled her face with his bushy beard. She seemed to be floating in air, her mind awhirl, her body exhausted but overwhelmingly satisfied. And she sensed that he was feeling something similar.

I've done it, she thought to herself. I've now really and truly become Daddy's little wife.