He reacted as a man can be expected to react. As my fingers roved crazily over his chest and face, and my tongue darted in and out of his mouth, I felt his fingers slip beneath my panties, at the back, and then his hands were squeezing the cheeks of my ass. I spread my knees wide, and the fingers of one hand followed the crack of my ass downward until they discovered the tuft of hair at the back of my cunt. I raised my ass until the fingers were touching the trembling lips of my cunt. He slipped a finger inside it. I nearly came.
With one quick movement of both my hands, I grasped the bottom of my bra and yanked it upward. I let myself enjoy the way his hairy chest teased my rigid nipples for just a moment, then, ending the kiss and cupping my hand beneath my right tit, I thrust my knocker toward his mouth. It had been too long since my nipple had been inside a warm, sucking mouth.
"Suck my tits till I can't stand any more!" I pleaded shrilly, then bit my lip as he sucked my erected nipple between his lips. He drew it deep into his mouth. I felt him nip it with his teeth. My free hand slipped between our bodies, inside his shorts, found the hard shaft of his cock. I squeezed and stroked it at the same time, and his mouth moved from nipple to sweetly aching nipple, sucking my titties deeper into his mouth with each change.
"Bite them for me," I moaned from deep in my throat. "Not hard. But bite them! Oh, Daddy... Bite them! Bite them! Bite them! Oh, Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" the words poured out of me — and it was then he seemed to realize, for the first time, what we were doing.
Time stood still.
"We can't... you know we can't do this, Brenda," he said finally, a stricken look on his face. His hands were still on my ass, one finger in my cunt. I said nothing.
"I can't fuck... can't make love to my own daughter," he said in anguish, but still his hands remained on my ass. I held tight to the hot shaft of his prick, saying nothing. When the words came, they came without me having to give it a second though.
"Why can't you fuck me?" I asked. "I've been fucked before, and not by anybody I've loved. I love you. You love me. You need me. So why can't we fuck?" And as I glued my mouth to his once more, sucking as I sought his tongue, I pulled his cock completely free of his shorts. I felt him tugging my panties down over my hips.
The talking was done, it was time to fuck.
We clawed one another out of what little clothing we wore, and our hands were exploring as we did it. He seemed awed by my eagerness, thinking, I guess, like all fathers think, that his daughter knew nothing about fucking. And I was awed, too — by the size of his prick.
For one brief instant, as he lay naked and ready, I found myself comparing his cock to the puny tools of the boys I had known. That was the difference. They were boys; he was a man. His cock was at least four inches longer than any I had ever seen, much thicker, and his balls were heavy between his legs. I mounted him quickly; fucking with my guy beneath me has always been one of my favorite ways.
As I straddled him and reached down with one hand to grab his cock and guide it toward the eager lips of my cunt, he reached up to fill his hands with my tits. His hands felt rough against my nipples, rough in a way that I loved.
I had one knee on each side of his body, my cunt poised above him. Slowly I lowered myself onto the head of his prick. My insides screamed as the lips of my pussy were spread by the head of it. I gave myself more. But not too much. I paused, savoring the delicious feel of having my cunt spread farther than it had ever been before. His hands tightened on the globes of my tits, his hips lurched upward, and his cock was deep inside me. I put my hands on his chest and leaned forward, and he stroked the tits that dangled beneath me.
I could feel the warmth of his cock against the walls of my pussy, could feel it pressing against the hood of my clit, and I closed my eyes and began raising and lowering myself so that my movements matched exactly the speed with which he was stroking my tits. He moaned something I couldn't understand, then lifted his hips until his cock was totally sheathed by my cunt. I tasted blood on my lips.
There was a dull roaring in my ears; an electric tingling grew somewhere inside my cunt, sparked by his upward thrusting prick, and it spread through my body like fire. His hands worked my tits, kneading them like dough. My hips pumped faster and faster; so did his. I could feel my cunt convulsing around his rod.
Throwing myself forward and locking my mouth to his, my tongue forcing its way between his lips, I pinned his head back against the pillow and frantically began to pump my hips up and down. His hands found the cheeks of my ass. While they guided the up and down movement of my cunt, and his hips pumped beneath me with a matching speed, bringing me closer and closer to the moment of coming, his mouth sucked steadily at the tongue I offered. Fireworks flashed before my eyes.
I began to come in a series of delectable little explosions inside my pussy that seemed to last an eternity, ending only when I had felt and taken into my cunt the great hot gush of come that finally erupted from him. Finally, reluctantly, I rolled away and lay beside him, sweating, my breasts touching his side, my hand on his cock.
"It was the best I've ever had — absolutely the best," I said, and he said nothing. I kissed his neck. "Was I good for you?" I asked. He looked at me for a long time, then said, "You'd better go to your room, Brenda."
We spent a couple of weeks feeling guilty. He avoided me, seldom spoke. I was bothered for a while by what we had done, but not for long. The longer I thought about it, the... well, the more right it seemed.
The second time around was no accident, not by any means. I thought about it. I planned it. And, when it happened, I loved it.
And so did he.
I went to him that night dressed in the sexiest thing I owned, a sheer black nightie that ended less than three inches below my cunt and was so transparent that it might as well have been a cloud of smoke. I was naked beneath it. My nipples, hard and swollen in anticipation, were clearly visible. So was the triangular patch of hair around my cunt. I could feel and hear the tiny crackle of static electricity set up by the nylon moving against my naked body as I walked from my room to his. A light shone from beneath his door.
He sat up on the bed and dropped the book he had been reading when I came into the room. I deliberately rolled my hips as I walked toward him. His eyes were locked on the juncture of my thighs. His lips were trembling. Heat seemed to reach out from his eyes, through my nightie, and into my cunt that was already screaming with need for him. His arms went around my waist.
"Oh, God, Dolly, I need you. I hate myself for it, but I need you," he whimpered, pulling me close to the bed and pressing his face against my belly. As he began kissing me through the thin material, I felt his hands move to the backs of my legs and begin working their way up my thighs. They went beneath my gown. I felt my knees turn to jelly as his big hands found the cheeks of my ass. He rolled off the bed, into a kneeling position on the floor in front of me.
"Put one foot up on the bed," he said, using one hand to guide me and kissing the inside of my thigh when I followed his instructions. I had already realized he was going to eat my cunt. I put my hands on his shoulders to give myself balance. He said, "Dolly... Dolly Dimples... with dimples beside her cunt," and then he kissed me once on each thigh, so delightfully close to the lips of my pussy that. I felt sure I would faint. Then he kissed the pussy itself.
One boy had gone down on my cunt, in the back seat of a car, but it had been a clumsy attempt and was nothing compared to that first gentle touch of my father's lips to my cunt. Gentle is the best way to describe it, yet it sent violent waves of desire through my body. He kissed me again. Then again. In my cunt. My feverish, feverish cunt.