[This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity. It involves themes of incest, specifically a father/daughter storyline. If such material offends you, please do not read further.
All characters depicted herein are over the age of eighteen.
As always, your votes and comments are much appreciated, and don't forget to check out my other submissions]
"Have I ever told you how much I used to absolutely loath New Years Eve?" Teri giggled, taking a near stumble as she stood out of the car.
"Just every December 31st," I parried playfully, reaching out to gently catch her about the waist. She was fairly well swanked on Patron margaritas and the Moet the Tom and Lisa had been toasting with at their bash. "...You do seem to have gotten over your aversion though."
"Completely," Teri chortled, her eyelids sagging contentedly as I carefully led her out of the garage and into our kitchen. I heard the television playing, a pall of bluish fog filling the living room, some shrill techno dance beat screeching through the house.
"Katie, we're home," I hollered.
"Hi, Daddy," came the distracted response.
"Ask Sister Katherine Anne if she had a good time?" Teri whispered cattily in my ear, nuzzling her nose into the crook of my neck. I shushed her quietly, holding her arm as I shepherded her across the room, feeling the wobbliness in her gait—dodging back a bit as she amorously teased her fingers across the front of my trousers. "...Go on, ask her if she got lucky."
"Down a little," I spoke up, seeing my daughter sprawled across the new leather recliner and motioning for her to edge the volume to a more humane level.
"...How was your night?" she asked, straightening up a bit as she thumbed the remote.
"It was great!" Teri burbled with a pleasantly inebriated slur. "And how was yours?"
"Just stayed around like I told you."
"Oh, you just need a good boyfriend, is what you need," my wife answered, skewering a playful finger in our daughter's general vicinity as she plopped herself back onto the couch.
Katie dredged up an uncomfortable smile but didn't say anything back. I settled down next to Teri and glanced at the television—ecstasy-ripped kids gyrating on an open-air stage over what had to be Times Square.
"So was it quiet around here?" I spoke up finally.
"Don't go changing the subject," Teri chided with feigned outrage, a wide grin splayed across her silken red lips—she was feeling no pain whatsoever.
"You are too beautiful a girl..." she went on, turning back to Katie, numbly faltering over her own words.
"A very, very beautiful girl," I cut in, waggling an eyebrow as I spoke, feeling for my little girl as she shifted uneasily on the tines of her mother's gaze.
"Too beautiful to be sitting home alone on..."
Inwardly I cringed, knowing that this was how it always got started with these two, Teri pushing her on some point, Kate getting prickly and hurt, saying something back and then...
"You just need to show off the goods a bit, kiddo," my wife said with a taunting giggle, sashaying a bit as she leaned forward and naughtily set her breasts swaying in that low-cut black dress.
"Ughh," Katie sounded under her breath, reaching down to switch channels, as if just for something to divert her mother off this particular tangent—Jackie Gleason suddenly prancing across the screen in some ancient Honeymooners rerun.
"Go 'Ugh-ugh' all you want, but this is how you have to get 'em interested, girlie. A little wiggle here an' a little waggle there." Teri smirked at me, unconsciously trailing her tongue over her upper lip—"Go on, tell her I'm right."
"I'll tell her I think it's time we go to bed," I offered judiciously.
"And when that doesn't do it, then you'll just have to get a bit more impetuous," Teri whispered conspiratorially across to her, her hand snaking right onto my lap, making me instinctively pull away from those marvelously expressive fingers. "...See."
I gently clasped Teri's wrist and glanced over at my daughter—she was shaking her head, hands over her eyes, as if absolutely mortified by it all.
"Time for bed," I repeated, easing my wife up off the sofa, realizing too late that she'd worked her usual magic and gotten me completely hard, the front of my trousers embarrassingly tented. I angled away from Katie, but was sure she'd probably seen it.
"Time for bed," Teri mimed, a pleased expression as she glanced down to my crotch.
"Good night," Katie muttered, still tossing her head a bit, still averting her eyes from us as we edged out of the room.
"Night, babe," I answered.
"...I'm getting lucky," Teri teased in a bright sing-song voice, loud enough to make sure our daughter caught every word. "I'm a getting lucky."
"You protect her too much, you know that?" Teri was muttering as she stood in front of the dresser taking off her earrings.
"I just didn't want another argument," I answered softly, dropping my shirt into the hamper.
"She needs to get out there and date. Have some fun for god's sake!"
"I know what you're saying, but she's young, she has lots of time."
"Oh, come on," my wife scoffed dismissively. "You know Daddy is just dreading the day when some horned-out kid gets to..."
"Let's not talk about this, okay," I said, offering a mollifying smile.
"I don't know," Teri answered teasingly, deftly peeling the black dress down her body as she stood across from me. As always I felt my heart skip a beat as I watched her disrobe, the lacy black brassiere, the black panties cut high on her slender thighs, the nylons bunching as she eased them down past her ankles, all creamy flesh now, her breasts still fairly firm and pert, the nipples small and dark, the perfectly symmetrical tuft of darkish hair at her mound.
"So..." she whispered seductively, coming up to stand before me, her painted fingernails trailing over my bare chest, finding the buckle of my belt, a directness that always thrilled me as she deftly opened my trousers, my cock springing to a well-earned freedom like a crazed convict just out on parole.
"So?" I answered huskily, her feathered attention to my shaft maddening, the silky caress of her palm over my tightened scrotum, a delicious, breath-catching scrape of nails across the nerve-rich patch of flesh just to south thereof.
"So how long's it been since you fucked the brains out of a drunk girl?" she purred.
"I think...um, what day is it today?"
She gripped my balls bringing me up to my tippy-toes, her eyes dancing lustily: "...I'd answer very carefully?"
"I just remembered," I replied in a shrill falsetto that made her giggle again. "...Seems like it was a year ago to the day—and oddly enough, she looked a lot like you."
"Did you make her suck on that big cock of yours?" my wife whispered through clenched teeth, shoving me back across our bed, pants tangled down around my feet.
"I seem to recall that she didn't need all that much encouragement."
"...Really?" Teri murmured as she slid catlike up the length my body, straddling me, a dull echoing as she mouthed up along my throat and over my ear, a faint mist of lightly perfumed perspiration clinging to her skin—holding my gaze as she kissed down the center of my sternum, slowly toying the nipple of her right breast along the underside of my cock. She came back up with her lips, swallowing nearly my entire shaft with a single daring bob of her head, lolling now, still silently studying my face through the curtain of her dark hair, the lush wetness of sloshing saliva, a swirling her tongue—coming up off me after a moment with a deliberate scrape of teeth.
"Was that how she did it?"
I couldn't answer save for a numbed grin.
Teri gripped my glistening cock and positioned her face over it again, her eyes glinting with that wanton craziness that would seize her from time to time.
"See, this is exactly what that daughter of ours ought to be doing," she smirked, flicking her tongue over the thick spongy head
"Just keep doing what you were doing." I said too quickly, wanting that sweet mouth on me again—and definitely not wanting to talk about our Katie while I was watching her nude mother perform a truly expert act of fellatio upon me.
"I'm serious," she grinned, sensuously sliding her hand up and down cock now, kissing away a bright bead of semen as it formed. "...Don't you think she'd be so much happier if she was down on her knees with one of these in her pretty face?"
"I should call her in and let her watch, is what I should do," my wife went on wickedly, still ministering to me, suddenly using her mouth again, suctioning on me hard, easing off as I started bucking my hips off the mattress. "...Would that be okay?"
Again I couldn't answer—couldn't utter a coherent sentence if my life depended upon it.
"I could just have her sit right there on the edge of the bed and she..."
"Don't stop," I wheezed, setting a palm to the back of her head, only to have her playfully toss it off.
"...Look how big we're getting. You're thinking about her watching, aren't you?"
"Please just keep going," I heard myself say.
"No, you have to answer first," she scolded, wagging a finger up at me. "...Wouldn't you just love having our tight-assed princess in here watching me suck your cock? ...I can teach her some of my patented blow-job tricks."
I couldn't even laugh, the blood audibly whooshing through my skull—my wife could tell she was getting to me now, just like just she always did with her racy bantering. This though was an incomprehensibly new twist—something so wrong I could fucking taste it.
"If you wanted, I could maybe even let her try it out with you. You wouldn't mind that a bit, would you?" Teri was down on me again, sucking my cock with carnal abandon—again bobbing up off me just as I felt the first stirrings of climax, a delicate thread of spittle clinging to her chin as she went on: "I think she'd like sucking your cock. I really do. ...Would you want her to undress first?"
"...Yeah," I heard myself reply in a husked tone—Teri let the smile on her face spread, a rabid glint in her dark brown eyes.
"She has a great set of tits that daughter of ours," she whispered, crawling up so that she was lying atop me, our faces a scant inch apart. "I saw them last summer when we were at the shore...They're bigger than mine, a lot bigger."
I reached to kiss her, but she lifted away, our lips barely brushing.
"Nipples are big as silver dollars," she went on, circling her thumb and forefinger together in a rough approximation of Kate's areola. "...You know she'd probably love for you suck on 'em. ...I wanted to suck on them myself, I did. I really imagined myself just gnawing down on one of...!"
I grasped her head in my hands and pulled her down to me, kissing her hard, teeth clinking away on each other, that fleeting pulse of tongue as she struggled free of my grip, eyelids clamping as my cock inadvertently found the warm curve of her vulva.
Teri reached down between us and threaded me into her sodden crevice, a strangled gasp as she lowered her pelvis fully onto it. I watched my wife lift herself up so that she was astraddle my waist, her tits bouncing as she started to ride it, both hands splayed on my chest for support, the quickening in her breath as she gyrated down on it.
"Am I doing it...am I doing it right, Dad?" she murmured with practiced innocence, the invitation implicit in her glazed eyes.
"Yeah, baby." I moaned, reaching up to lightly pinch a nipple, rolling it between my thumb and finger. "That's how you do it, that's how you do it."
I felt the walls of her vagina clench as the orgasm struck, a squeal of pleasure as she frantically bucked away on my pole, breasts swaying crazily, the cords of her neck taut, eyes quivering beneath her clamped lids...
"Daddy..." she keened desperately, over and over again until the sound petered to a near wordless bleating.
I stifled a scream as I started to spurt inside her, grappling onto her soft hips and pummeling her down onto me with a final savage heave, fiercely grinding our bodies together until it was completely spent—a stunned instant of recognition as our eyes met and then the enveloping blackness of sleep...
I came awake with a start, daylight pouring through the high windows, a familiar whoosh of water—Teri's humming a tune I couldn't quite place. I rolled out of bed, sitting at the edge of the mattress for a long minute, shaking the haze from my brain. It had been one of those physically draining sleeps—narcotized, fucking lobotomized; opening my eyes sometime afterward, the lights still on, my wife deflated atop me, snoring softly, her face on my chest in a puddle of drool, my cock shriveled out of her. As gently as I could, I'd rolled her off me and lay there alongside of her, instantly drifting off again, vivid snippets of dreams jarring me up to consciousness, feverish bursts of color, a young girl's weeping, strained indecipherable words...
"Fuck," I muttered aloud, flashing back to the one I'd just woken to, the fucker almost ruining me. I tossed my head again and stepped into the bathroom.
The bathroom was thick with steam—I wiped a circle of mirror and yawned at my reflection. What a bent fucking pervert, I reflected darkly, the previous evening's high jinks catching me like a sucker punch in the sober light of a new day, the first fucking day of a new year.
I picked up the Listerine and swigged right from the bottle, sloshing it around my mouth till the burn cleared my mind.
"Hey," I said, pulling the curtain back a bit, amused when Teri tried to hide herself. I blew a kiss at her and she stuck out her tongue in response, yanking the curtain shut. I listened to her washing, picking up her humming again—what in the hell was that song anyway?
"I'm never imbibing again," she announced.
"I think I'll join you in the temperance pledge," I answered, leaning close to the mirror and examining my tongue as I heard the water shut off.
"I'm serious," Teri went on, opening the curtain and plucking up her towel. I turned to look at her in the mist—she was drying herself unconsciously as I watched, grinning as she felt my attention.
"Well, I know we fucked," she grinned mischievously. "But I don't remember all that much else about the evening's events."
"...You didn't wear a lampshade."
"Well that's a positive. ...It was you I fucked, wasn't it?"
"I think I was in line there somewhere?"
Teri came up to me, towel turbaned around her wet hair, an almost chaste peck on my lips.
"Well, I probably enjoyed you the most, just like always," she said, looking down at my hardening member. "...Uh, uh, buster, not today, even my jaw is sore from last night."
"Oh, I think you could be persuaded," I laughed.
"Uh-uh," she said with a wry shake of her head, fixed in place in the doorway. "...But don't worry, I'll just tag off on Katie"—a casual mocking tone, eyes wide with her best 'gotcha' look—"send our little Mother Superior right upstairs to suck that baby dry."
I stared at the closed door for several seconds, noting the peel of debauched laughter from the opposite side, too much to ask that she would've gotten amnesia as to that particularly delectable factoid.
I got in the shower, savoring the sting of the water on my face. The dream that had jarred me awake doing another involuntary replay in my mind—our cottage at the lake, early morning, treading water, watching as my daughter slowly made her way down the steep path.
I glanced down at my stiffened prick, hot in my lathered hand, stroking it methodically, back and forth, concentrating on the memory now—Katie standing on the dock, staring down at me, my asking where her mother was, her answer that she was still asleep, that faltering smile, a checkered halter-top knotted at her midriff—a get-up my girl wouldn't be caught dead in ever —her fingers wordlessly undoing the cinch, draping it back over her shoulders, a vision of lewdly sloping breasts, perfectly shaped youthful globes, nipples thick and hardened. Her hands sliding her denim cutoffs down along her perfectly muscled thighs—something else my Kate would never, ever, even try on, let alone don in public—that livid blush rising high on her cheeks...
I must've leapt six inches in the air, not having heard the bathroom door come open—or her knock, which I'm certain she'd done— cringing around towards the tiled wall as if she could somehow spy me through the shower curtain.
"What," I snapped in an overtly strained voice.
"Mom said you wanted me for something," came her voice, a bemused note, as if she'd supposed what I'd actually been doing in there, though most definitely not guessing at the object of my desire.
"I'll tell you later," I said, controlling the tremor in my tone, a deep breath to settle my libido, though my cock, trained dog that it is, remained ramrod straight.
"I'm going over to Karen's in a while."
"It isn't important," I said. "...I'll take care of it."
I heard her sigh, the sound moving, following it in my mind, footfalls light on the damp tile floor. The commode lid dropping.
"I can go over later if you need me for something," she said—she was sitting down on it, just outside the curtain, a bored, dissolute air to her words.
"No, baby, just go...have fun."
I took hold of my dick and deliberately resumed my stroking, slower now, still facing against the wall, the hot water blistering off my skin.
"You're sure?" she went on, another long sigh.
"Yeah," I said, closing my eyes and seeing her casually step off the dock, her body cutting the lake water perfectly, her breasts wondrously buoyant as she drifted into my arms...
"...You're coming back for the Penn State game tonight?" I queried after a very long moment.
"Okay, we'll see you then, babe."
"Bye-bye," I muttered, listening carefully for the sound of the door closing. ...coming into my arms so tentatively, the water very cold, our legs treading together, thickened nipples brushing against my bare chest, her lips barely contacting mine...
An animalistic wail as I came, semen splattering thickly off the blue porcelain, my legs sagging till I was literally down on my knees, grunting with each added spurt as I jacked away furiously—out of breath, wheezing like a three-pack a day Camel. I blinked several times, shook my head, opaque clots of semen whirling down the drain.
I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of my own ragged breathing—a curtain of fog drifting over my lakeside visage, shivering in the water now, letting Katie slip from my grasp, her beautiful eyes filling with tears as she angrily kicked away from me, her lower lip trembling with sadness and betrayal, shouting her name as she was steadily devoured within the bank of pale mist.
"That's it there," I said, pointing across the front seat of the Escalade just as the Cathedral of Learning came into view.
"It's pretty ugly," Katie grimaced, as she took in the massive stone-faced monolith.
"Wait till you go inside," I went on, turning my attention back to the snarled traffic on route 22. "No ventilation, all stale air. It's like the worst designed building in history of architecture."
"Wonderful," she replied, cocking an eyebrow at me as she settled back into her seat.
It was the last week in May, and it was baking out—only eleven in the morning and the Escalade's dash display was already reading 92° as an outside temp. We'd been on the road since five-thirty in the morning, hauling straight out with only one stop at a McDonald's for greasy egg-an'-sausage biscuits and orange juice.