Nolan and Jessica Pt. 03

All characters are at least 18 years old.

*****

The rest of the evening went by as if nothing had happened, except that Marty and Jessica said very little to each other. She had taken a long shower, locked the door to her room, did her homework, then went into the kitchen and warmed some leftovers. Nolan got home while she was preparing supper and they all sat at the kitchen table and ate. She could barely bring herself to meet her father's eyes.

The next day, at school, she could barely concentrate on her work. She kept thinking back to what her father had "forced" her to do and was amazed that she didn't shudder in revulsion. As much as she hated to admit it to herself, she had enjoyed it. That wasn't quite correct, she amended. She didn't enjoy it. Her body had betrayed her and her body had enjoyed it. She was torn. Her mind absolutely did not want what had happened and it did not want her to think of it as a pleasurable experience in any way. Her body, however, had loved it. Her father had seen what he wanted and took it. That was, somehow, exciting to her. There was no denying that he gave her great physical pleasure. She found herself recalling how her body had reacted to him. She needed to get herself under control, she knew. She both dreaded and looked forward with great eagerness to going home and facing him, especially since she knew that Nolan was working late that night. She tried to think of somewhere she could go or some excuse to keep from being there alone with her father, but she had to admit that being home with her father was exactly where she wanted to be.

As she entered the house, she wondered if her father would be drinking. It had saddened her tremendously that he had started drinking again. It had been wonderful when she arrived home from school and was met with a hot cup of coffee, a sandwich, and the loving, smiling face of her father. Now he was unpredictable. The previous day -- that awful/wonderful day - he had been asleep in his chair because he was drinking.

She immediately smelled the aroma of coffee and, when she entered the kitchen, her father was sitting at the table reading a book. There was a plate opposite him, containing a ham sandwich and some potato chips.

"Hello, Jess. The coffee is fresh. Do you want me to pour it?" he smiled as he rose from the table.

"Thanks, Daddy...sit back down. I can get it. Thank you." She tried to smile but knew that it probably looked more like a grimace. She poured both of them a cup and put sugar in them. She put Marty's cup in front of him and sat down to eat her sandwich.

Marty sipped his coffee, his eyes fastened on his daughter who, he noticed, was reluctant to look at him. "Oh, Honey, this coffee is just perfect! You are the only one who can get it just exactly the right sweetness for me!"

Jessica looked at him and smiled. She was glad that she could please him in this small way. "Thank you for making my sandwich, Daddy. It's so kind of you...," she took a sip of her coffee and looked away, fighting tears. "I love you, Daddy."

Marty felt bad about what happened the day before. He had thought about it most of the day and had tried to rationalize it. He knew it was wrong, no matter what, but he blamed his drinking and had promised himself that he would not drink anymore. At least not today. He could tell that Jessica was upset, but he didn't know what to say. He had never been good at apologizing or talking to people who were upset.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I hope you'll forgive me some day. I don't know what else to say. I can't undo it," he offered.

"Daddy, let's not talk about it, please? You know I love you and you know that I forgive you. That's just how I am. I cannot be filled with hatred. Hatred destroys. I'll never hate you, or anyone else," she sniffled, angry at herself for allowing her emotions to intrude. She wiped her eyes on her shirt sleeve.

"I wish I were more like you, Jessica. You are the most genuine person - you and Nolan both - that I've ever known. You didn't learn that from me, nor your mother, either."

"Church, I guess," she sniffled. "I don't know. I just know that I can't hate people, no matter what they do. That may be my weakness, or one of them. I love people that don't deserve it...I don't mean you, Daddy. You do deserve to be loved...I gotta do homework." With that she drained her coffee and went quickly to her room and closed the door.

Jessica took her clothes off, put on a pair of tight running shorts and one of her old tee shirts that no longer covered her midriff. She lay on her bed and had a good cry. She wasn't sad, exactly, but she felt that her emotions were all over the place. She was so torn over what her dad had done the previous day. She admitted to herself that she was, probably, a bit perverted. After all, she was more attracted to her own brother than anyone else. Then, when her father had forced her to have sex with him, she had ended up enjoying it, although she couldn't tell him that. (Obviously he knew, though, because she had had a bed-shaking orgasm.) She tried to tell herself that it was purely biological, but she wasn't sure that was true. She had felt something more than physically. She couldn't explain it.

As she lay there, she suddenly had an intense desire to be held by her father, again. He had learned his lesson. He knew that he had crossed the line. She was lonely and she needed love. She didn't want her father to beat himself up over what had happened. What if he became depressed? What if he drank to try to forget it?

She sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do. She could just go tell him that she loved him and give him a hug. No big deal. Should she change clothes? What was the point? There was nothing he had not seen. Besides, all the important parts were covered adequately, even though she had removed her bra.

She crept out of her room, not wishing to awaken her father if he had fallen asleep. He was in his recliner watching ESPN.

"What's on, Daddy?" she asked as she walked over to his chair and stood beside him.

"SportsCenter. What's up, Baby?"

Jessica hesitated. "I just want you to know that I really do love you. I'm not just saying it. That's all."

Marty looked unsure of what to do or say. He reached for her hand and, almost imperceptibly pulled her toward him. She took his cue and climbed into his lap, laying her head on his shoulder.

"You like sitting in your Daddy's lap, don't you, Baby?" he asked.

"Yes, Daddy. I do. You make me feel loved," she whispered. She thought to herself, 'What are you doing?' But the fact was that she was upset and emotionally distraught. Despite everything, just being held by him calmed her and really did make her feel better.

"I do love you, Jess," he whispered as he put his arms around her and squeezed. "There, is that better?"

"Yes," she whispered and leaned over to give him a kiss on his neck. "I could sit here all night," she said, even as she thought how stupid that must sound.

Marty could feel his cock begin to stir. What was she up to? She had to know that he was going to get an erection and become sexually excited if she sat in his lap, yet she seemed willing - almost eager - to do so. He knew that, once aroused, his behavior would be unpredictable and that he was liable to do something that he would regret, again. In his mental and emotional state, he was erratic and knew that this was not a good idea.

"Well, you can sit here until your brother gets home. I don't think he would like it, do you?"

"No, I don't think he would understand," she whispered, almost inaudibly. "I don't think I even understand," she added.

"Baby, you've been through a lot. It's mostly my fault and I know it," he said as he stroked her hair. "Neither of us may be completely emotionally healthy."

Jessica put her arms around his head and hugged him tightly, as if she would never let him go. "We need to heal, Daddy," she whispered in his ear.

He could feel her breasts mashing against his chest and realized that she was not wearing a bra. He would love to see her firm young breasts, again, he thought. He loved the way they looked and the way that they felt when he had grasped them the previous day.

Jessica released her hug and turned sideways in his lap. His erect cock was making it uncomfortable. She now knew what it looked like and, more importantly, she knew what it felt like inside of her. She admitted to herself that she wanted to do it again, as terrible as that thought was. She had to stop thinking that way, she knew.

Marty could see up the legs of the athletic shorts all the way to her panties. Her flat, tanned tummy looked so sexy! He could even make out her nipples through the tight shirt. How could he be expected to resist this? He lay his hand, experimentally, on her bare tummy as he felt his lust for her begin to override his rational thought.

Jessica realized that her father was looking at her long legs, her flat abdomen, and her tightly-encased breasts. Was that what she had wanted? In the back of her mind, wasn't this what she had planned? Of course it was! And here she was, and she couldn't deny that it was exciting that her father was looking at her body in such a lecherous way. Let him. Why did it matter? They weren't going to do anything -- were they? He had learned his lesson. He was sorry for what he had done. It would never happen again -- would it?

Then suddenly his hands were roaming from her flat tummy under her shirt, almost touching the undersides of her breasts. Jessica knew she was not going to even try to stop him. This is what she had wanted, she admitted to herself, and there was no reason to ruin it by trying to resist. His hands slowly, very slowly began caressing her breasts, under her shirt. He clasped them both, gently and lovingly, tweaking the nipples gingerly. Oh it felt so good! She pushed toward him, not trying at all to move away, thrusting them into his hands...

"Daddy," she groaned. "You shouldn't. Don't!" she said, even though it felt good - way better than she wanted it to!

Marty grabbed the handle to the recliner, which dumped her off of his lap and onto her feet. She stood unsteadily as he pushed himself out of the recliner. She could see the pain on his face and he grabbed his back. He didn't pick her up, as he had the previous evening, but grabbed her hand and led her to his bedroom.

"No, Daddy. What are you doing? We can't," she mumbled as she eagerly allowed him to lead her to his room.

He pushed her down on her back on his bed. "Take your clothes off," he ordered. He began to undress. He quickly pulled his shirt off of his muscular upper body, unfastened his belt and began to pull his pants down.

Jessica lay there watching him, mesmerized. Was he really going to do this again? Was she going to let him? What could she do? Why had she allowed herself to get in this position again? She knew that she was powerless against him. She knew that, in the back of her mind, she had half-hoped this might happen again! Was she that crazy? Was she that starved for intimacy?

"I told you to take your clothes off!" he said, raising his voice. "You come in there wallowing on me half-naked and pretend you don't want it?"

She smiled and began removing her shirt, revealing her perfect breasts, her conical nipples as hard as diamonds. She thrust her chest out, eager for her father to lust for them. She raised her bottom from the bed and began to push her shorts and tiny panties down, as Marty reached and pulled them off and dropped them in the floor.

Damn, she was fine. What a fucking body! She was fucking perfect! She was so cute, and always had been. He never imagined that her body would ever fill out like this. She was as hot and as perfectly shaped as a high-end stripper. He spread her legs and, without getting on the bed, bent to kiss her between her legs.

"Yes," she whispered as she opened her legs wide. "Kiss me there, Daddy!"

He grasped her firm young buttocks and began to lick at her drooling pussy. Oh, she wanted it. There was no doubt, whatsoever. She was as hot as a firecracker. Her pussy was wet enough to accommodate a baseball bat. He stuck his tongue out and moved his head, swiping it wetly up and down her cuntal crease and her swollen clit. He then took her clit delicately into his mouth and began to suckle it, just like he knew his wife loved. He knew just the right amount of suction to maximize her pleasure. And that was his mission - to please her so well that she would be back for more, again and again.

"Oh, Daddy, that feels so good!" she moaned. This man knew what he was doing. She was going to cum in his face soon - her body was, once again, betraying her -- and she didn't even care anymore! She had both feet on the edge of the bed, her legs spread as wide as possible, and was hunching her loins at his mouth. She reached for his head and held him there, not willing to relinquish this intense pleasure for even a moment. "Daddy! Ohhhhhh I love it!" she moaned.

Suddenly he stood and crawled up on the bed, grasping Jessica's foot and dragging her 90 degrees so that she was laying long-ways of the bed. She scooted herself up until she was on a pillow, keeping her legs open wantonly.

He got between her legs and rubbed his swollen, thick cock along her wet gash. He couldn't wait to impale her and give her another good fucking. If he didn't miss his guess, this was going to be way better than last night.

"No, don't rape me, Daddy!" she giggled, as she placed her hand gently on her father's handsome face.

Marty fitted his blunt cock-head into her opening and pushed. He was gentle, yet insistent as he entered his daughter's heated cunt, then, gaining leverage, pushed into her until he was completely engulfed in the warm, wet, tight sleeve of his daughter's grasping pussy.

"Unghhhh" she moaned in delight, as he filled her with his wonderful, pleasure-giving cock. Fuck, it just felt unbelievably good! He filled her completely. He was taking what he wanted - he wanted HER, his own daughter - this thought was wildly exciting to her. She knew that he was about to give her exactly what her body craved - a good fucking.

She moaned repeatedly. Her body was out of control. She was slamming herself up to greet each and every delicious thrust of his thick cock. She realized that she was fucking him, and taking great delight in doing so. Her body was fucking him as much as his body was fucking her! They were fucking! It was incest and she, at least her body, fucking loved it!

Marty thought for a moment that he had bitten off more than he could chew. This girl was wild for it. Her long, strong legs were wrapped around him, she had both arms wrapped tightly around his back, and she was hunching upward at him so violently that she was bruising his pubic bone.

"You love a good fucking, Little Girl? Is that it?" he grinned.

"Yes, fuck your little girl, Daddy!" she yelled, thinking that she had never experienced anything so utterly exciting in her life. Even fucking Nolan was not this forbidden, taboo, and arousing!

Marty held her down forcefully and began to saw in and out of her clasping pussy harder and harder. He pistoned into her as hard and fast as he possibly could, realizing that he was about to lose his load, but unable to stop himself.

"Unggggggggggggh!!" she wailed. "Oh, Daddy, you're making me cum!" she yelled as her orgasm washed over her. She continued to buck and jerk and shiver as she came down from her climax. She was out of breath and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, displaying her delectable, firm young breasts to the full. Finally, she lay still, her face and body covered in perspiration.

"My turn, Baby Girl. Your Daddy is going to fill you up!"

"Let me see it, please?" she begged.

Marty shrugged. "Okay, then, if that's what you want."

Marty pulled his cock out and stroked it. Great jets of his ejaculate shot out, the first of which landed squarely in Jessica's face then, as they diminished in power, on her throat, chest, stomach and, finally, was seeping out and running down his cock and hand, dripping onto her pussy.

Jessica was amazed. She had a wad of cum on her forehead, nose and lips. A bit had landed inside her mouth. She admitted to herself that the taste was not bad and that it wouldn't be at all disgusting, if she ever got the opportunity with Nolan, to suck her brother off and to even swallow his cum.

Marty, his chest heaving with exertion, was amazed at how much he had cum. Down through the years the amount of cum he produced had diminished quite a bit. He didn't masturbate often, but when he did, he didn't produce this much. He watched as his incomparably sexy daughter tasted of his emission. This was astonishing!

"How does it taste, Baby?" His wife certainly had never tasted of his cum. She treated it as if it were something nasty.

Jessica grinned, shyly and said, "Best I ever tasted."

*****

The next day at school, Jessica could barely contain herself. She couldn't have explained it, but she felt almost euphoric. Deep down, she knew that what she and her father had done was terribly wrong, but she had not felt as happy and free from worry in years. She recognized that she was probably emotionally damaged because of all she had been through. She was needy. She had been starved for love and affection. She had not felt safe. She had felt that her parents had abandoned her. Then Nolan had come home and had given her exactly what she needed - love, safety, confidence, and physical release. Her mind and body and emotions craved him and depended on him, but then he had failed her. She didn't blame him, of course. He had done the "right" thing, but it wasn't what she needed. She couldn't help but think that she could seduce him again, as she had done a couple of days previously, but if he really thought it was so wrong, she knew she should not. She could rationalize it and be fine with it, but he was not willing to do that -- and she admired him for it.

Now her father, even though he had "forced" it on her, had given her exactly what she needed. It was kinda like, she thought, when she was a little girl and her parents would force her to take her medicine. She realized that these thoughts were probably crazy but she didn't care. She could think about that at some amorphous date in the future. She felt that she was on the short end of a cosmic balance. Life had treated her harshly and had almost destroyed her. She was probably damaged, emotionally, beyond repair. She was going to take pleasure and love and affection wherever she could get it. She didn't care if it was crazy or sinful. She might even seduce him. It was more exciting if he were the aggressor and she seemed a bit reluctant, however. But she would let it happen. She might protest, but she knew how her body would react.

She found herself driving faster than usual as she headed home. She wondered if Marty would have coffee made. If not, she would make some for both of them. She would do whatever her father wanted.

She walked in the door and didn't smell coffee, so she went into the living room to find her father. He was asleep in his recliner. She looked to see if he had been drinking but didn't see any beer bottles around.

Marty suddenly opened his eyes. "Shit... Jess? I fell asleep. I meant to make coffee."

"That's all right, Daddy. I can make it. Let me change clothes first, okay?"

"You run along and change clothes. I'll make the coffee. Do you want something to eat?"

"I think I'll just eat some cookies, unless you want something. I can make you a sandwich," she offered.

"No, I'm not hungry, Honey."

Jessica's heart was beating way too fast. She was terrified and excited. She couldn't differentiate between the two. She went into her room and took all of her clothes off except her panties, a tiny blue thong. She pulled on one of her old, tight tee shirts. It was so ragged and didn't fit. She reached into a drawer and quickly cut the sleeves of the shirt off, then cut off the lower half of the shirt. It was so tight that she had to wrestle it on. She looked in the mirror. The shirt was now so short that the lower portion of her breasts were exposed, the erect nipples barely covered. The shirt was so tight that it enhanced her breasts and her excited nipples were quite evident. She turned and looked over her shoulder at her ass. The thong panties were invisible, the tiny string flossing her perfect, firm bottom. She looked slutty and sexy and hot and she knew that her father could not resist her.