What Michelle Wants Ch. 02

"Michelle. My office. Now."

Michelle hung up her phone. For three weeks, she'd been working as an intern at Helena's Handbasket, the company founded by her father's...lover? Girlfriend? Michelle wasn't sure, but so many things had become unsettled of late. Bot in a bad way. Since freeing herself to submit to her father sexually, her time home from college had been defined by her discovering new sexual frontiers. Yes to giving her dad a morning blowjob, slicking his cock until he came. Yes to daddy in her pussy and in her ass. Yes to daddy's cum in her mouth. Yes to daddy's cum on her face. Yes to daddy's cum on her tits. She'd recently become savvy enough to wait to put on her bra and work blouse until he was done, uncertain what he might prefer any given morning but knowing she would thrill to it.

Yes to all that and more. Her pussy had been filled with her father's thick cock, which she increasingly adored the more time she spent with it. Her asshole too, and her ass had been well paddled by daddy ever since she discovered the toy during her trip with Helena. Oh: Yes to Helena too. Exploring a woman's body had been just as delicious as exploring a man's, and the three of them had had some great times together, including a wild weekend at her lakefront cabin a few weeks earlier.

Helena got Michelle the internship, but she didn't want anybody to think that she was any kind of charity case at the office just because she was dating her father. So she dug into her work---helping with coding issues on the website, making suggestions about marketing copy. Small but meaningful things. Her favorite task was sifting through consumer data, running reports on buying habits to sort out what housewares sold and what didn't. She'd submitted a report to her supervisor, Brenda, just that morning, and presumably that's why she was being summoned to her office. Brenda was usually blunt, but the firmness in her voice this time worried her. Had she overstepped her bounds? Made some boneheaded error?

She stood up and went to the office. She felt how sore her pussy was, thanks to daddy's fucking late the night before, and took some comfort in that. As she passed an office window in the hallway, she checked her face just to make sure there wasn't any of daddy's cum on it still. Silly, but you never knew.

"Have a seat," Brenda said, as soon as Michelle stepped in her office threshold. Obediently, she took a seat in one of the intentionally uncomfortable plastic chairs on the other side of her desk. Brenda disliked long meetings and designed an office that emphasized the point.

"So I've read the report you sent this morning, Michelle," she said, holding up a sheaf of papers that were heavily marked. "There are a few things you missed when it comes to consumer analysis, but I wouldn't expect you to know everything about how we run things here. Good job."

Michelle glowed inside. Praise from authority, she knew, always had that effect on her. She was a pleaser at heart.

"Thank you," she said.

"It got me thinking that you might benefit from some hands-on experience with how we do things in consumer research. Somebody who knows how to code and do basic arithmetic is apparently hard to find around here." Brenda put the papers down and leaned to face her. Brenda was pretty---a redhead, with cute big-framed glasses and a soft, round face---though she wore loose outfits that made Michelle wonder about the shape of her. "We have a focus group next week that you should sit in on. It'll be about three or four days, maybe more. Are you OK to travel?"

"Where to?" Michelle asked.

When Brenda named the city, Michelle flinched. It was where her mother had moved after she and her father divorced a year earlier. She would have time to visit her, but now there were so many things she couldn't talk about.

How's your father doing, Mich?

He's fucking me practically every night, mom. He came on my face this morning because he loves me and I love giving him pleasure. My pussy gets wet as soon as I slip to my knees in his bedroom. I've practically replaced you, mom. I'm his new wife now.

"Michelle? Is that OK?"

Michelle came back to earth. "I'm sorry, I was just thinking that it's been a while since I've been there."

"Well, you'll have some time to catch up with the place. We won't trap you in one of those horrid rooms with two-way mirrors the whole time. My assistant will e-mail you the arrangements." Brenda turned her eyes back to her laptop, her signal that the meeting was over. But as Michelle got up to leave, she added: "So, Michelle? I want you to know I would've done this even if Helena herself didn't clear space for you here. But do me a favor and kick ass with this one. We might have a spot for you after you graduate."

"Kick ass. Got it," she said. Walking back to her cubicle she let her ass ratchet and bounce a little. It felt good to be told you were good.

**

Over dinner that night, Michelle told her father about her opportunity to help with the focus groups, and to visit her mother. Eric was encouraging. He thought his daughter was sexy, of course---he couldn't stop himself from craving her whenever she was close. But he was also proud of her intelligence and determination. He had a thought.

"Let's make a trip of it together. There are clients there I can check in with, so it won't take away from my vacation time."

"Do you want to see mom?"

"Of course. We weren't meant to be a couple forever, but we get along fine. We should plan a dinner. And you know I'm still buds with your uncle Tim." Tim, her mom's brother, had gone to college with Eric; in fact, Tim had introduced Eric to his now ex-wife, under circumstances they all rarely discussed out loud but smirked about whenever it came up. "Maybe we'll go to a game or something, grab drinks."

"How fun!" Michelle beamed.

As Michelle was washing the dishes, Eric moved behind her, kissing her neck softly. There were so many things he loved about her body---the shape of her full tits, her bee-stung lips, her bright green eyes. But he found her ass irresistible when he had the opportunity to linger on it. And the black light cotton slacks she was wearing made her look especially appealing. They were loose in the legs but tight on her hips, riding up her ass. Soon enough, Eric was pressing himself tight against her. Melissa, feeling that lovely and familiar tingle between her legs, pressed back slightly, somehow managing to get the last of the dishes on the drying rack as he began grinding on her in earnest.

"I'm done with the dishes, Daddy," Michelle whispered.

"Lovely, baby girl. Now stay still."

He hadn't asked her to close her eyes, but Michelle did it anyway. She trusted her father implicitly now, and she loved feeling surprised by him. The kisses on her neck, his hot breath on her ear. His hands rising up and around her hips, then cupping her tits, caressing them. The feel of him tugging down her pants and then her panties. His hand finding her pussy, already soaked for her daddy, then his fingers filling her.

And then the sound of her daddy unbuckling his belt, which was the best of all.

"Was my outfit too naughty for work, daddy? I know those pants were a little tight around my ass."

"Just a little," Eric moaned, then did what she'd so hoped he would do, take that belt and slap her with it. Not too hard---just enough to get her blood up, remind her of how fine it felt to feel desired by a man in charge, how excellent to submit to it.

"Daddy," she groaned, after he'd hit her ass with the belt a fourth time. She hoped he'd understood the message she was trying to deliver with that word: Daddy, my pussy is ready to be fucked now.

He understood it; he always did, she'd discovered. How wonderful to have that almost telepathic relationship, she thought---and then stopped thinking as his cock entered her. Eric pumped hard against her, because he knew too that in moments like this, away from the bedroom, in places not designed for fucking, Michelle liked it rougher. She liked the reminder that she was doing something in an inappropriate place, that she was an inappropriate girl. She bent further down, the better to take her daddy in, and then slipped to the floor, where he was free to fully take her. As she shuddered and bucked with one small orgasm, then a larger one, Eric groaned, letting go and filling his daughter's pussy with his cum.

The tile floor was hard, but Michelle felt so much release from that brief fuck session that it might as well have been the bed upstairs where they'd sleep that night. Running her fingers gently through his chest hair, she asked: "Daddy, are you going to tell me why you and mom broke up?"

"Tell you what, sweetheart. You'll get the whole story on this trip."

"Is mom upset with you?"

"Not at all," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Is she dating anybody? Is she happy? She doesn't talk about that with me when we talk or text or whatever."

"Maybe it'll be different in person. For now, let's get your pretty ass in bed."

She complied, after finishing cleaning up in the kitchen. A lot of her daddy's cum had dripped out of her pussy. It glistened on the tiles.

**

"Tim, are you there?" Michelle's mother cooed. "Don't leeeeeeeeave me."

Jill was stoned. Righteously stoned. Sitting on the couch in her living room, she took another hit off her vape pen and rode the wave of---what did Tim say it was?---Purple Heaven, or something like that. At any rate, it was a strain that seemed to target all her erogenous zones and deliver a steady, pulsating buzz to them. Like being caressed by a thousand little vibrators, Jill thought, then giggled at the silliness of that image.

"I'm just in the next room, sis. I got a text...."

"It's Friday night, Tim. You shouldn't be checking work texts. You should be getting stoned with your sister."

"Already am," he said, walking back to the couch. True enough, Tim's eyes were bloodshot and heavy-lidded, and he landed on the couch next to her with a lazy thud. The weed didn't give him the same all-over high that Jill was enjoying, but it hit him where it counted, and he unabashedly let his cock tent in his loose shorts where Jill could see it.

Jill was feeling pretty close to couchlocked, but if there's one thing that could get her moving, it was her brother's cock. Soon enough she'd tugged down his shorts and was lazily kissing up and down Tim's shaft, licking the precum off him. Tim lazily ran his fingers through her hair; they would be fucking soon, no doubt, but he was in no hurry.

"What did it say?" she asked between cock kisses.

"What did what say?" he replied, distantly, adrift on his sister's cocksucking.

"The text, silly boy."

"Oh, that... It was your ex. He's coming to town next week, with Michelle. He wants to get together."

Hearing Eric's name wasn't a buzzkill, exactly, but it did bring both of them a little closer to earth. For Jill, that only meant that her horniness went in a different direction. Instead of lazy cocksucking, she began stroking his cock, her lithe fingers tight on Tim's prick. "All of us? Me too?"

"Not sure. But he told me to clear an evening. And he said maybe you and Mich could have some time together. They'll be here most of the week."

"Good. I worry about her. She's pretty and a little naïve. If she's not careful she'll be in a Girls Gone Wild video."

"Like mother like daughter," Tim laughed. He placed his hand on Jill's, encouraging her to keep stroking him.

"Oh, shush," she said, and tried not to think too much about what trouble her daughter might be getting into. "It wasn't like that," though it was, pretty much.

"Time for the money shot," Tim groaned, teasing her.

"You little shit," she grinned.

"Time to cum for the cameras."

"I hate you sometimes, you know that?" she said, her pussy pulsing from the weed and the sight of Tim's cock, plainly ready to explode.

"Get your mouth on my dick, sis."

She did as she was told, and almost immediately he exploded in his sister's mouth. The weed had slowed her down---she was too high to take all of his thick load in her mouth. But she reveled in the sloppiness that came with her buzz. She smeared his thick, sticky cock all around her cheeks and lips, tonguing his shaft as if to clean it but leaving it even messier with his hot spunk. Her pussy was pulsating even more, but she felt so good getting her brother off. A lot had changed for them over the years, but ever since she was a senior in high school and he'd finished his first year in college, this was a constant.

"Fuck, sis, thank you," he said, drowsily.

"Uh-uh, don't you dare, baby," she said. "I don't care if you're baked, you don't get to be a man right now and fall asleep after cumming. My pussy needs some attention. Look." She pulled up her skirt and tugged down her panties, showing him how ready she was for him.

Rapt, Tim pulled Jill till she was laying on the couch and tugged her panties all the way off. Clutching her round ass, he began eating her pussy, sucking on her clit as her hips slowly gyrated. God, I love a man who knows how to eat pussy. Eric was never that into it, but then Tim wasn't that into assfucking, which she always thought was a shame. Whatever. She succumbed to Tim's loving attention, spreading her legs further, riding the wave of pleasure. Happily, she saw her vape pen was on the coffee table and took a draw from it. That's it. Bucking harder and clutching her brother's hair, she let go and came hard, feeling Tim smear her pussy juices all over his face, just as sloppily as she took care of his cum.

It's a shame there weren't cameras, she thought. Her on-camera days were well behind her, but she did love to be watched.

**

"I think that flight attendant has a crush on you," Eric said, smirking.

"You think so, daddy?" Michelle said. The flight had been uneventful, as late-night flights often are. Eric and Michelle had a row to themselves in business class and were doing their best to keep close without being obvious about it. Fingers brushing on each other's arms; thighs pressed close together. The flight attendant, a pretty blonde middle-aged woman, had been asking Michelle about the baseball team whose shirt she was wearing. Michelle didn't follow baseball, but liked the shirt, a thin V-necked top that clung to her chest, and, thanks to her father's touches, showed her hard nipples. Though it was obvious that Michelle couldn't make the least small talk about the game, the attendant was still chatting her up about how much she liked going to games at their storied stadium with her father.

"We'll we're in town for a few days, so maybe my dad will take me to a game. I've never been."

The attendant smiled, Eric assumed because she was glad to have some clarity about whether they were father and daughter or a May-December romance. Both, hon. Eric ordered cocktails for the two of them, and the attendant didn't card her, handing her a rum and Coke with a wink.

The drink was weak, but Michelle still felt heady being so close to her father, yet not able to get any closer. The restroom was barely large enough for one person; there'd be no initiations into the Mile High Club this evening. Michelle sighed, and rubbed her thigh with one hand, close to her father's. She looked out the window, wondering what city was studded with lights down below.

A little while later, the flight attendant had returned, bearing a blanket. "You looked a little cold, hon, so I thought this might help," she said. Michelle took it, blushing a little, knowing that it was her hard nipples peeking through the fabric that had caught the attendant's attention. In bed, Eric would often tell her how much he loved her tits, with their large areoles, and how sexy she looked when she lifted them for him. She couldn't quite suck her own nipples, but with some of her daddy's encouragement she was able to lick them. She wondered if her mother, whose tits were bigger, could do that, if she ever did that. But she seemed so straight-laced.

"Comfy, hon?" Eric asked, once Michelle had draped the blanket on her from the neck down.

"I don't really need it, but it's cozy," she whispered. "I think she saw how hard my nipples were."

"Horny?" Eric whispered back.

"Yes, daddy."

Eric looked around. The sole occupant of the aisle across from them was dead asleep. The flight attendant was busy in the galley. He turned to look at his daughter. "Get yourself off."

Michelle's eyes widened, then softened, pleased with daddy's encouragement.

"Unbutton your jeans and slide the zipper down and slip your hand under your panties."

"Yes, daddy," she replied, her lips moist. Her daddy was so close to her.

Her hands moved under the blanket, barely perceptible, but Eric could tell when her finger had reached her clit. Her breath caught and her body at once looked like it was deflating and inflating---her hips pushing back into the seat as she gently thrust out her chest. It was the same motion Eric had become pleasantly familiar with whenever he'd entered her in his bedroom. Their bedroom.

"Good?" Eric asked.

"Not as good as your cock, daddy," she whispered, so quietly she was practically mouthing the words.

"Soon enough, sweetie. Just imagine all of the fucking we'll do in the hotel."

"Yes, daddy."

"Is your pussy soaked?"

"So soaked." Her voice hushed to a kittenish mew.

"Focus. Cum for daddy under that blanket."

They stopped speaking and instead locked eyes with each other. The movement of her hand wasn't visible under the blanket, but he could feel her thigh pressing more insistently against his. Eric's own cock had lengthened and stiffened under his slacks, making him feel like he did as a teenager, as if he might cum without even touching himself, getting off on desperate need alone. Michelle's lips parted, aching for lips to kiss or a cock to suck. She looked at her daddy and gave the slightest of nods. Then three more nods, quick, a small squeak of an oh!, and she deflated again.

Eric laughed, happy at his daughter cumming, and at the illicitness of their tryst. "Have a good time down there?" he asked.

"You're silly, dad," she said. Dad, real-world dad, not the daddy she used in their private world. She ran a finger down his nose, playfully, and Eric could feel the slickness of Michelle's pussy juice, smelled it, as her daughter put herself back together and prepared for landing.

**

Michelle was determined to impress the next morning, sitting in the focus group's observation room. The building where Helena's Handbasket was interviewing consumers was just two blocks from her hotel, so she had time to rest up, and enjoy a long shower with Eric in the large bathroom. Two shower heads, one vertical and one horizontal, gave them lots of opportunities to soap and slick themselves. Eric turned the horizontal one to its strongest jet setting, pointing at her clit as he grinded against her slippery ass. Soon enough he was inside her, and he'd cum hard.

"I'm sorry I couldn't do that on the plane," he said.

"It's OK, daddy," she replied, her father's cum running down her thighs and dripping to the tile floor.

Between that and their long goodbye-have-a-good-day kiss, Michelle put on a gray pencil skirt and loose white blouse with matching heels; she went easy on the makeup, not trying to look older than she was. That seemed to work---the Helena's staffers she met with in reception didn't call her "the intern" or "the young lady." When she wasn't called Michelle, she was called "Brenda's assistant," even though she really wasn't.