Marietta

There was one particular scene, the naked and very dead lady in room 237, which proved far too much for Mari. She buried her head in daddy's lap, just the thinnest of fabrics away from his rapidly swelling semi. Aware of his daughter's fright, Don patted Mari's side, then began a slow stroking movement along the thin cotton of her shirt.

"Do we have to watch this?" she enquired.

"Not if you don't want to. You can go to your room if you wish - Skype one of your friends." Mari twisted her body slightly and in doing so her daddy brushed his hand accidentally over her breast. He moved his hand quickly away. "Sorry, sweetheart," he immediately apologised.

"It's OK daddy. I feel safer here with you though. I don't want to to be in my room with the storm outside."

That rang true. Ever since she was old enough to express her feelings, and even by crying before that, Mari had a fear of storms. Nightmares began from rain lashing at her window, screams came after the first lightning, more screams of total distress came when the thunder was so close it almost shook the house. Don switched the TV box to 'record', he could watch the movie later. Mari twisted some more so she was flat on her back, her head still on his lap, her face still showing fear from the distressing scene. She moved her daddy's hand underneath her replica football shirt.

"Please daddy," she said. "That's so comforting."

"Your mother would have a fit. You're my daughter and I'm not one of your boyfriends."

"Please daddy," Mari insisted. "Please. I like that. I love you daddy and I trust you. Mummy will never know."

***

Even inside the church hall which doubled as both food distribution and soup kitchen, Debbie felt uneasy about the storm. Don could easily cope but Mari would need comforting and there was little Debbie could do. The church hall was full of mainly men who were loners, outcasts, ones who for one reason or another chose to, or had to sleep rough. They needed her help, and the few women who also had no fixed abode needed her help even more. There was plenty of soup and they'd broken into the donated biscuits and cake to offer the unfortunates a little bit of a treat too. Bars of chocolate provided energy, cups of tea and coffee gave refreshment - at least until the weather broke and the wanderers wandered on. Debbie and her volunteer friends would stay until morning. Even if she phoned home, Don would have an instant answer. He knew she would stay in the hall until morning, she knew he would keep Mari safe.

Perhaps it was the alcohol that influenced Don to at least keep Mari happy or perhaps it was that Mari had always been daddy's girl. Even in his frustrated state of mind Don clearly remembered the walks, the visits to the park, teaching his little girl to swim, persuading her that football was not just a boys game, fixing her cut leg with a kiss and a Band-Aid, and all manner of other things. Even by senior school it was always daddy she asked when things went wrong. It was daddy who always had a shoulder for her to cry on, her taxi, a sympathetic ear when boys had been asshole to her.

"Daddy, what are you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing."

"You think it's wrong, don't you? But I'm not a child and all I want is a bit of comfort." She returned Don's hand to where it had felt good. "Just gently daddy. That's all I ask."

Gently it was, an ever so light tickle on her tummy, on her sides, on her small breasts with the nipples so hard. "Like this?" he asked.

In one motion Mari pulled the soccer shirt up to her chin and unzipped the side of her skirt. Tugging the waistband down she exposed the top of her knickers, then pulled both down another good inch. Her slit, her vee, her patch of skin that was so, so sensitive was not in view.

"Here," said Mari, taking her daddy's hand and moving it from just above her almost flat breasts, to just above where her knickers began. "All around in circles, then back." Many times a boyfriend had tried, many times she'd said 'stop', frustrating him. Other times a more favoured boyfriend had been allowed and Mari knew, by god she knew, just where felt best. There had been many times that Mari had cursed her flat chest, but there were things that boys liked, and she just damn well knew they liked, that overcame this lack of any cleavage.

Don was at least happy that Mari's knickers still covered a forbidden place, though when his soft, office worker fingers had roamed anywhere near the demarcation line of her knicker elastic Mari felt enough pleasure to close her eyes. By now of course, Don's baby machine was on full alert and Mari had noticed that too. Minutes went by and, unseen to Don, Mary's knicker gusset was becoming damp.

"Lower," said Mari, almost in a whisper. "Please, lower daddy."

This was wrong, Don knew it was wrong, but the red wine and the proximity and his straining erection and, most importantly the absence of his wife, all this persuaded him to push the elastic just another inch down. Or perhaps it was a little more, though there wasn't even a hint of hair. There was just an indent, a lowering of Mari's smooth skin, an indented valley that was full of pleasure nerves. He pushed against the deep groove, letting his finger slide just that little bit more.

"Shit, I shouldn't have done that," he said, almost to himself. Immediately he withdrew, pulling the knickers back up and the soccer shirt down. It was bedtime anyway. Carefully he pushed his daughter up to something like a sitting position.

"Daddy, why?" moaned Mari.

"Because I'm your daddy. Simply that. Its wrong. I did what you asked, now I'm finished."

Mari was reluctant to go to her room even though daddy had gone to bed. Don lay awake, glad that he'd stopped himself going any further. His finger, his stinky pinky, smelled so bloody good, divine, arousing. There was nothing better on this earth than pussy scent, and young pussy scent at that. It had been so, so long ago that Don had first dipped into Debbie's pot. Back then it had been fun, back then she had been pleased to let him, pleased to welcome him into her treasure cave.

Reluctantly, after an hour of straining to keep herself awake, frustrated and angry, yes angry at daddy's denial of wanting to learn more about his only daughter's delights, Mari went up to her room. Although the storm was still howling, the room was warm ... very warm. In summer she usually slept in a Minnie Mouse nightshirt and tonight would be no exception. Mari hated to be cold and when the storm passed through the temperature might cool.

She lay, musing about what might have been. Her bastard of a boyfriend had dumped her, dumped her no doubt for some bitch with tits. Well screw him and screw her daddy, she had fingers. Screw the knickers left in the bathroom. If daddy didn't want her pussy juice first hand then he wasn't going to get it at all.

Don had finally got to sleep, regretting what he hadn't done. Hell, Debbie was denying him yet Mari was offering it on a plate. He could have licked her pussy out, shown her how good it could feel, cumming from her daddy's eager tongue and then ... and then ... And then he felt guilty because he should never have let Mari get the better of him. She should have known better. He should have known better. But then, perhaps he'd missed a once in a blue moon chance.

***

The digital, dimmed clock said 3.27am. A bolt of lightning lit up the bedroom and the clap of thunder came instantly after. It was very loud - loud enough to waken the dead. Don sat up. He had slept naked, had a prize boner and he needed to pee. Reluctantly he dragged himself out of bed, trying to will his cock to deflate. Walking to the bathroom he stood, waiting for his pee to flow. Finally it came.

Mari had slept uneasily. She'd dreamed she was in a hotel room, a little boy on a tricycle passing by the open door. Her hands were streaked with blood and as much as she tried to wipe the blood off, the more her hand got bloodier than before. The clap of thunder woke her, her hands clammy, her forehead damp with sweat. No matter how she tried, there was no way could she get back to sleep. The lightening flashed again, the thunder roared indicating the storm was just above the house roof.

"Daddy," called Mari, standing in her bedroom doorway, "I can't sleep. I had a horrid dream and I hate this storm. Can I come in bed with you?" Mari had obviously heard her daddy in the bathroom and awkwardly Don tried to hide his embarrassment.

Mari had, over the years, been frightened by nighttime storms - several times when she was a child she came through to their bed, usually cuddling to Debbie until the storm passed, then returning to her room. Now was different, she was a 19 year old young woman. Don gave in. If his wife couldn't give a damn about him, why not allow his daughter a simple cuddle in bed? Mari was visibly trembling and looked pale. He simply shouldn't have selected that movie on such a night. "OK, come through till the storm passes," he said. Sod the consequences. Laid beside her daddy, feeling safe now that he was here to protect her, Mari finally succumbed to sleep and, eventually, so did Don.

Don awoke, it was very early and the storm had passed. He was aware of a naked body, a soft and warm naked body laying next to him, fast asleep. It took a few moments for him to realise it was Mari laid on her side cuddled up to him. Her breasts, small as they were, pressed against his back. She had discarded her night shirt in the uncomfortable heat and laid tightly spooned, snuggled up, the rest of her pressed tightly as if hanging onto something or someone she considered safe. Her left arm was draped over his waist. Don was also aware of a stonking erection, even firmer than his usual morning glory.

Hardly daring to move lest he woke her, Don tried to ease away. He didn't succeed.

"Morning daddy," said Mari, yawning but not moving her draped arm nor pushing herself away, but Don did.

"Morning sweetheart," he replied, rolling over onto his back, "You shouldn't still be here."

"But I am," she mocked tears, wiping her eyes, "But," with pouted lip, sitting up, letting him see those delightful little titties, "You're not going to send me to my room are you?" Again she brushed away non-existent tears.

"Sweetheart, you really shouldn't be here in place of mummy."

Mari rolled the duvet back, revealing daddy's prize example of manhood. "That's not what your body is telling me."

"That doesn't make it right."

"You need me and you damn well know it." Crossing her leg over his waist she knelt astride him, his steel pillar now hidden, snuggled up to her butt. "There, we can hide the evidence if you like." Her cunt lips were now open, nestling against his stomach. "You could at least kiss me for making me watch that movie."

Don began to say "I didn't make you," but her lips smothered his words. Oh hell, his daughter could teach him a lot about kissing. Her lips and tongue spoke their own language of sex and lust. He was being seduced, by his daughter, and he was losing all will to resist. She began rubbing her cunt lips against him, at the same time awkwardly massaging his cock with her butt cheeks.

"Mmmnlb," was all the protest Don could manage as her kiss went on, and on, and on. Finally she sat up again, astride him as before. "Convinced yet?" Daddy kept quiet, "Obviously not. You need more persuasion. She moved upwards, then slightly back and expertly impaled his pole, making it hide inside her wonder cave. "There, it's hidden again."

His protests had ceased. Mari had always taken the lead. 'Woman on top' wasn't in Debbie's limited vocabulary. Now slowly moving up and down, Mari was treating her daddy to a brand new experience and, by god he thought, it was fantastic. She knew exactly what she was doing, her eyes closed. He watched in wonderment as those small pointy titties rose and fell.

Having had no sex at all for 6 plus weeks, Don felt he was going to cum. Oh no, Mari sensed that and slowed ... right ... down. "Hey, help me here," she pleaded. I do have tits and they work just the same as normal sized ones." Still not making any sign of taking the lead he lazily reached up, easily circling each breast with the palms of his hands, lightly grasping each nipple, gently twisting and pulling. They became plump and firm. Mari picked up speed, surprisingly skilled for her age, and the familiar feelings began again. Then they eased as she slowed once more.

Five, ten, fifteen minutes passed and neither had climaxed. Then the tease ended, Mari pumping up and down at a much faster rate. Don, poor neglected Don had no chance of holding back. With his cock deep inside his daughter he despatched his payload, pumping a huge supply of stored seed into her fantastic cave. Within the blink of an eye Mari followed suit with a murmur of delight, a cry of contentment and whole body release of sexual tension. Wow. Mari had patiently kept her daddy on the boil whilst she built herself up to the wonderful orgasm she so wanted. Then and only then did she choreograph both cums in total unison.

Don was totally spent. He was also happy. The two cuddled up together as if that union had been result of both of them achieving their goal. Mari had always been daddy's favourite. Don had found in his daughter exactly what his wife had denied him, whether he chose to accept that or not.

***

The extended shift had come to a close. Although Debbie had been offered a lift home, independent as she was and so committed to giving back to the community she had turned it down. Now, waiting for the first bus, she ran over in her mind what had happened.

The food bank stroke soup kitchen, stroke temporary haven, had fulfilled its important role. There had been many men and some women who had sheltered, talked to friends, had a wash and a change of clothes. 'A port in a storm' thought Debbie. She arrived back home exhausted. Mari had returned to her own bed and was fast asleep. Don had already arrived at his office, the sleek, shiny, racing-green sports car parked safely in the basement garage. Debbie, after a light breakfast, looked in on Mari who was lightly snoring. Face washed, teeth cleaned, Debbie was away in dreamland, laid in the exact position her daughter had been, several hours earlier.

Mari woke, her vagina sore from the sheer width of her daddy's cock. She had ridden him well, though daddy had just laid, unwilling to play an active part in their union. It was a pleasant soreness and she was going to be reminded for the rest of the day. She didn't mind that; she had achieved her goal of getting that prize monster inside her. Mari tentatively dipped her fingers inside, revealing a mixture of her own lubrication and daddy's cum.

Mari showered on the power setting, the quiet hum of the motor ensuring the mix of water and air was able to pleasantly sting her skin. She turned to face the supply taps, increasing the water blasting against her conical breasts and swelling nipples. It didn't take much persuasion from her expert fingers for her clit to submit, making pleasure ripples radiate through her. Only now was she ready to face the day.

***

Don sat at his desk. He had to meet up with a client for lunch, the property developer anxious to fix a deal with the owners of the dilapidated cottages overdue for massive refurbishment. The owners of the four block would receive generous, over market value offers for their properties in return for giving them up. Don would negotiate hard, his skills making it possible for the development to go ahead. Once refurbished, the value of the cottages would soar so there was no risk at all in the final cost outlay.

He had a short while still to go over the events of the night before. It was as if Mari needed him so much that she was prepared to openly offer her body. The guilt feelings were being pushed aside with the minimum of conscious effort. Now they'd been replaced by a need, a desire, a longing to please Mari. Let convention, the law, the ethics and morals go to hell. If Mari wanted him then Mari could have him ... in any way she wished.

The meeting went well. Don's personal remuneration could exceed two grand, a bonus on top of his regular salary and he felt good, real good. He'd already spoken on the phone to each of the present occupants who'd all agreed that the buildings needed much more than a hammer and a lick of paint. He'd even agreed to search the market and advise them, free of charge, on what alternatives were the best deals. Almost absent-mindedly he dipped into his jacket pocket, wondering why Debbie had given him a cotton handkerchief. Except, it wasn't. Very neatly folded was a pair of Mari's knickers - not too clean ones.

By early afternoon Debbie was up and showered. Mari was chatting online to one of her friends, still feeling the invited invasion of her love tunnel. How the hell, she questioned, did any man manage to grow such a monster, then immediately reasoning that some women could easily outgrow the majority of available bra cups, one of her friends having to order hers from a specialist online store. Daddy would surely enjoy her mouth around the tip, but ohmygod she could never deep throat him. Such thoughts had caused her own lubrication to begin once again, but mummy was around so ... hmmm ...

"I think I'll go out for a walk," she called to Debbie, who was brewing some fresh coffee.

"Coffee first?" her mother enquired.

"No thanks, I'll pass on that. I'll take some water though."

Mari scooted upstairs, relieved her sore pussy lips of the clinging, now damp cotton, changed into a shorter skirt, took a piss in the bathroom and returned to give her mother a peck on the cheek. "See you later," she said.

Situated as it was, on the edge of town, Mari was soon in open countryside - well, as near as you could get to open countryside in the industrial area of northern England. A well trodden path led Mari gently uphill to a ruined castle, destroyed during the English Civil War. Part of the hedgerow opened up to give a fantastic view of surrounding hills, assuming of course that the viewer ignored a motorway winding through it. The motorway was thankfully quite a distance away and the lack of enthusiasm for taking a stroll - except for dog walkers - meant the area was quiet. Mari took advantage of a seat, provided by the relatives of a certain deceased 'Arthur Benson, age 78, Who Spent Many Happy Hours Here Taking In The Beautiful Yorkshire Countryside'. Presumably many of those happy hours being before the motorway was built.

Mari sat, appreciating the gentle cooling breeze, legs slightly apart, allowing the breeze to cool her uncovered reddened pussy lips. She looked around. Apart from a few sheep steadily nibbling the short grass in an adjoining field, there was no-one to object to her displaying her wares. She hiked her already short skirt up, her girly wares now in easy view of any dog walker who passed by. Luckily no-one did. One by one she unbuttoned her blouse, allowing the synthetic silky halves to part. Lazily she caressed first one, then the other alert nipple, synchronising movements of her fingers between her reddened labia. It was a combination of the pleasant soreness, the gentle breeze and the whole idea of doing this in the open air that made her cum very quickly. Then, as if nothing had happened she buttoned up and continued her walk.

***

"Why don't you come along to the committee meeting tonight?" one older lady had asked Debbie before she left, following her night's work at the church hall. "We need new ideas for fundraising." 'and, thought Debbie, a new committee member.' Don arrived home around 6pm, his usual time and his wife's welcome was surprisingly good, a hug and a kiss on his lips.