Take Your Daughter To Work Day - Version Alpha

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Chapter Six

There is something that happens in a man when the relationship he has with a woman includes the fact that she welcomes his sperm into her body. When a woman allows a man to mate with her, it puts her in a special category. Most men aren't aware of it, but there are invisible strings that run from the man to the woman, strings she can pull at will. She might not be aware of it either, for that matter.

But all this is contingent upon one of two situations. In one situation, the man is simply following nature's urge to spread his seed. He doesn't need to have any strings pulled, really. He'll fuck anything he can. And as he finds a woman who will let him, he'll fuck her until she's pregnant, and then look for another woman.

Such men are usually looked down on by "proper" society. But the fact is, all they're doing is following nature's commands. There is nothing wrong with them, except that nature and society conflict sometimes. Most men aren't in that category, but a significant number are. They just think of themselves as fun-loving free spirits. What they really are, are mobile land mines, filled with sperm, that create havoc in women who aren't protected. It's havoc because these guys usually see themselves as unencumbered free spirits, and they won't hang around to be a father to the children they father.

The other situation is similar, but is based on emotional attachment to the female. She doesn't have to feel the same attachment, but it helps. When a man is in love, his natural instinct is to breed the woman he loves. Sometimes it's conscious, and can be controlled. That's called family planning. In other cases, though, it's not conscious. She's receptive. He loves her. He breeds her as often as he can because of it. That's called unplanned pregnancy.

Of course there are usually some efforts at control there too, but they don't rise to the level of formal family planning. An example is Tom, whispering in Carly's ear "Honey, we shouldn't have done that, and we can't do that any more."

But it wasn't backed up by the willpower sufficient to overcome natural impulse.

Granted, he had some willpower. But it slowly leaked away as Carly practiced what she was fully authorized to do ... suck the tasty sperm out of her daddy's boner.

Tom's situation in life, meaning that he was a soldier, actually had more to do with controlling their urge to get his spurting penis in her soft, clasping vagina, than anything inside either of them. Basically, Tom worked long, hard hours. He generally left home before Carly was awake, and got home many nights after she was already back in bed.

He thought about her, and what they had done. He dreamed about how things could be. But they didn't have a chance to do much. All this was to Beth's benefit. Thinking about Carly kept him on an elevated "horniness level" and Beth reaped the rewards of that when he got home. She wasn't in bed when he got home. At least not usually. And if she was, it didn't matter, because those benefits she reaped usually happened there anyway.

This is not to say nothing happened after that. Carly's new relationship with her father was firmly established, in both of their minds. And when she did have the chance to give him a massage, she did so. And he now let her. And they both knew that the highlight of that massage would be when she sucked his aching penis into her mouth, and he gave her a tasty treat.

At other times, she cuddled with him on the couch while they watched TV. It wasn't unusual for his hand to stray to cup her breast, and squeeze gently. When that happened, her hand would stray to his lap, to feel the evidence of what her breast did to him. Both of them liked that little game.

The only discord, if one could call it that, was Beth's ambivalence over the kisses she had received from her daughter. She had never kissed another female. Not like that. And the problem was that she had liked it just as much as Carly had. It was one thing for her daughter to accept the sexual attentions of an older man. Beth understood that. She had done it herself. But she had no frame of reference in which to put this other thing.

As a result, when Carly was giving her father a massage, Beth didn't join in again. She watched. She was even aware that while Carly sucked her father, his fingers stroked her to an orgasm too. That didn't bother her. More than that would not have bothered her, in fact. But there was plenty of time for that, when Carly was a little older. It was true that she had survived Uncle Bob taking her young, and often. But there had also been a dozen times over those years when her period was late, and panic had set in. Carly wasn't on the pill, and didn't need to be for a year or two.

Besides, she knew Tom. He'd never do that with Carly. He was entirely too prudish for that. She just knew it.

So Tom resisted, and events conspired to support Beth's belief in a man who had changed much since she had married him. She forgot how much she had changed him herself.

It was a month, in fact, before it happened again. And it happened in exactly the same way. Carly came and climbed into bed with her parents one Saturday morning. She set her alarm, in fact, to wake up early, just so she could go do that. And she set it early, because she didn't want it to be just ten or fifteen minutes. She wanted to be able to stay there for a long time.

This time, when she settled between her parents, she turned to face her daddy.

And this time, she reached for his hard penis and brought it to split her sexual petals with her own hand.

"No," he whispered, groggily.

"Yes," she whispered back, wiggling enough to get the same couple of inches in her as before.

But this time she was facing him, and when his hips gave a jerk, four more inches snaked up into her belly, and the leaking tip kissed her cervix.

"Ohhhh Daddy," she sighed, feeling no discomfort whatsoever.

And her milkmaid's muscles went to work, while he kept whispering "No, Carly, no!"

Until his penis bucked and spat streams of thick spunk against her cervix and she whispered "Yesssss" one last time.

She didn't have an orgasm, but she didn't care. What she was after was that warm, wet feeling deep inside her, which she thought of as her daddy's love.

She kissed him a few times while he silently dithered, but hugged him tightly so he couldn't withdraw.

She wanted to go to sleep again with him still in her.

To those of us who have grown up, it seems ridiculous in the extreme, but a lot of young people don't quite click when it comes to making obvious connections. They say that the prefrontal cortex doesn't finish physically growing until a human is in his or her early twenties, so maybe that explains it.

Whatever the reason, a significant number of teenagers, primarily females, don't make the connection between sperm ... and babies. They know that the sperm fertilizes the egg. And they know that the sperm comes from the male's penis. But a lot of girls still think you have to "fuck" to make a baby. And "fuck" means the guy climbs on top of you and moves in and out, like they do in those porn clips on the internet.

And since her daddy didn't climb on top of her and move in and out ... since he didn't "fuck" her, Carly wasn't at all worried about getting pregnant.

Even when her father got her off to the side later that morning and said "Baby we can't keep doing this! You could get pregnant!"

She did what teenagers frequently do when faced with an intransigent parent. She said what she knew he wanted to hear.

"Okay, Daddy. Whatever you say."

But having a penis in her hand ... and mouth ... and pussy ... made her feel very grown up, and she liked feeling grown up. She liked going to school, and walking down the halls, looking at girls she knew and wondering "What would Darcy say if she knew I sucked my daddy's sperm?" She liked looking at boys like the very popular Jerry Wikins and wondering what he'd do if she offered to suck his penis. Not that she would ever tell anybody about what she and her father did. She did make that connection. Nor would she actually offer to fellate Jerry. She also made the connection that that kind of thing always got out into the general public. She knew the names of at least fifteen girls who sucked cock, according to rumor.

But she didn't include herself in their company. She didn't see them as "sisters." Her situation was different somehow.

All of this is to explain that, while Tom was resisting this new sexual relationship that had popped up in his life ... Carly was not.

She liked it. She didn't see the harm in it. Nobody would ever know.

And she wanted to keep doing it.

This is not to say that she was fat, dumb and happy about things. That wouldn't be fair at all.

Take, for example, the fact that she discussed the whole concept with her mother. Leaving out certain details, of course. It happened on a Saturday morning when her daddy wasn't there, because his unit was in the field, doing training of some kind.

"Mom?" Carly started, looking over the spoon she had just lifted from her bowl of cereal. It looked like she was trying to count the Cheerios on it.

"Hmmm?" Beth was planning her day.

"How come I love sucking Daddy so much?"

Beth got distracted from planning her day, and stopped. She actually thought about her answer.

"Well, you love him, and you know it makes him feel good. Plus, it's normal for a woman to like sex."

"But we're not actually having sex," said Carly, instinctively leading her mother away from the danger of finding out that Daddy's penis had been inside her and spurted. While she didn't think of that as "fucking" it did, somehow, fit into the category of "sex."

"You would have voted for Bill Clinton," said Beth.

"What?" Carly was confused.

"Never mind," said Beth, smiling. "Oral sex is a warm-up for having real sex," she said.

It's interesting how the turn of a phrase can make such a difference in life. Had Beth said "A lot of people get mixed up about that. Trust me, they call it oral sex because it is sex!" then Carly might have thought about things differently.

But that's not what happened.

"So it's normal for me to want to have sex?"

"Absolutely," said her mother. "Nature makes you want to have sex, and you're in the prime of all of that. The urge will be very strong. That's why, in fact, that we decided you needed an outlet. And what you do with your father is an outlet."

"I really like it," sighed Carly.

"I understand that," said her mother. "I really like it too."

"I wish I could do it more often."

"Well, your daddy works a lot, honey. He can't help that. And when he's home he likes to relax. When you suck him, it makes him tense."

"I know. But I wish I could do it while he watches TV or something. Like when he's watching football? That's boring for me, but he'll watch it for hours. If I could do it then, though, I could do it as long as I wanted."

"Well then, just ask him if you can," said Beth.

"He won't let me. He keeps telling me we shouldn't do stuff."

"That's because he was taught all his life that sex is bad. It's too bad people get taught that, because sex is a big part of everybody's life, sooner or later. That's one thing I'm trying to teach you. Sex isn't bad at all. It's a loving act, and nature wants us to engage in it. Most people wouldn't approve of what you and your father do, and he knows that, even though he and I think it's fine."

"Maybe you could say something to him?" asked Carly, hopefully. "He was all freaked out about it ... that first time, I mean ... until you said it was okay."

Beth smiled. "I'll see what I can do, honey," she said.

She had no clue she had just been manipulated into helping her daughter get her pussy stuffed with prick. Of course Carly didn't think of it that way, either. Carly just wanted her father to stop resisting when they found something else that was fun, and felt good.

Carly Rawlinson was a hedonist ... even if she had never heard the word in her life.

This could be one of the reasons why our culture frowns on girls in their middle teens getting involved in sexual relationships.

Beth entered the master bathroom and looked through the frosted glass into the shower enclosure. The master bathroom was one of the reasons she had chosen this house, when they got assigned to Fort Dunlop. It had been renovated, made larger, and equipped with the latest bathroom technology. One part of that was a shower stall that would host a small party. Assuming everybody was into group sex.

Tom was soaping himself down. She could smell "the field" on his clothing, which had been carelessly tossed toward, but not in, the hamper. It was a combination of sweat, dirt, diesel, and gunpowder. She stripped, opened the shower door, and got in behind him.

"Hi, Sailor," she said, reaching around him to run her hands over his chest. She pressed her breasts against his back.

"I heard the USS Wilson docked while we were in the field," he said. "But you need glasses. I ain't no seaman."

Her hand slid down to cup his balls.

"Feels like there might be some semen in here. Wanna find out?"

"Desperately," he said. He turned, and kissed her, long and passionately.

They made a game of drying each other off, stringing things out, teasing and kissing body parts as they were dried. They had done this many times in the past.

Eventually, though, she was splayed on the bed as he hulked over her, reaching for his erection and guiding it into her.

It was her hand on him that reminded him of that morning, not so long ago, that Carly's hand had done that too.

As he sank into her, he imagined it was Carly's pussy.

And he felt guilty.

He stopped. He could feel the strength leaving his cock.

"What's wrong?" asked Beth.

He knew himself, and he knew that boner wouldn't return any time soon. So he rolled off of her and lay beside her. She moved onto her side too, looking concerned. He knew he had to talk about it.

"This thing with Carly," he said.

"I thought that was exciting!" she said, not able to make the connection to the wilting of his erection.

"It is exciting," he said. "That's the problem."

Beth knew him well enough to just say "Go on."

"Just now, when I went into you ... I thought of her."

"Oh." Beth was conflicted. Perhaps because her own history was so different than most other girls, the way she responded to his comment was different too. When she watched Carly suck his penis, she wasn't jealous. She thought it looked hot. Had it been Janet Dickson, next door, she'd have shot them both. But it was Carly, and that was somehow completely different. She didn't try to analyze that. It was just there. She was more worried about the fact that she'd liked kissing her daughter than she was that her daughter was so intimate with Tom. But she also understood her husband.

"And you feel guilty about that."

"Yeah," he said. "It's not fair to you."

"I disagree," she said.

"How can you disagree?" he said. "I put it in you, and thought of another woman."

"Not another woman ... Carly."

"It's the same thing."

"No it isn't. Not to me. I'm not jealous of Carly at all. And I'm the one who gets that nice hard penis inside me. You love us both. It's not like she's going to grow up and take you away from me. And I know you love me. But I also know it's normal for a man to lust after young, beautiful girls. And if you're going to lust after a young, beautiful girl, I want that to be Carly. You wanting her doesn't threaten me at all."



He thought for a minute. "Well ... seeing as how I think it's going to be pretty impossible for me to never think about her again ... that makes things a lot easier."

"You can have that fantasy," said Beth.

If Beth has stopped there, it might have been fine. But in the interests of getting that penis long and hard again, she played off what she suspected would turn him on. So she added a little bit of teasing.

"If she was here, she'd probably let you do all kinds of things to her."

"She would?" asked Tom, who was suddenly on dangerous ground, remembering some of the "things" Carly had already "let him do."

"She'd probably want to suck it, of course," said Beth, sliding down to do just that.

When it was nice and hard again, she moved back up and pushed him onto his back.

"And then she'd probably want to do this," she said, squatting over him and impaling herself on him.

From then on, it got less clear who she was talking about, as she rocked back and forth. Once she said "Mamma loves this," and another time she said "Daughter is being naughty!"

In the end, when his hips pushed upwards, and he delivered his essence to her with his eyes closed, the woman he came in had his wife's body ... with his daughter's face.

Afterwards they lay, her half on and half off him, as they caught their breath. It was always good sex when he got home from being away for a while.

"Speaking of Carly," she said, idly. "She talked to me about you the other day."


"She loves what the two of you are doing, too."

"Oh." He knew Beth was talking about the fellatio. But he was thinking about his prick, coughing and spitting in Carly's pussy.

"She says you're still resisting."

"Aren't I supposed to?" His guilt made him give her an opening to cut him off. "I mean, if I let her do whatever she wants, pretty soon she'll want to do what we just did."

"Of course she will," said Beth. "She's normal."

"What we do still blows my mind," he said.

"That's what she talked about. She would like to be able to do that more often. But she thinks you'll resist."

"More often," said Tom. He was thinking about how "more often" would mean more opportunities for his penis to end up in the wrong place.

"Yes, like while you're watching football."

"What?" Tom's world had always included football, ever since he was a kid. He didn't get to watch all that many games, because of the farm work, but both he and his father treasured the time they did get to spend watching their favorite teams on the gridiron. Of course those times, when they sat and watched, hadn't included any blow jobs. Suddenly he imagined sitting in the easy chair, football on the TV, a beer in one hand, and a beautiful girl sucking his dick.

And she couldn't very well get it in her in that situation.

"I could go for that," he said, rather artlessly.

"Good," said his wife, who really wasn't threatened by her daughter. "I'll tell her. I'm glad that's settled."

So Beth thought she was helping Carly, and putting Tom's mind at ease.

Basically, she gave them free rein, even though she wouldn't have put it that way at all.

And she didn't think a thing about it until one night, when she heard the familiar strains of the music that had accompanied Sunday Night Football for years, while she was cleaning up from making a batch of cookies. She took a plate of them to the living room, where she found Tom, dressed only in his robe, which was unbelted and open. He wasn't watching the action on the screen. Instead, his head was laying on the backrest of the couch, his eyes closed, as Carly knelt between his spread thighs, dressed in her PJs, which consisted of a T shirt and panties. Her head was bobbing up and down on his boner. She was actually slurping!

She looked down at the plate of cookies, wondering if they could compete.

And then she turned around and took them back to the kitchen.

She ate two, but the heat building in her own loins at what she had seen, drove her back to the living room. She was too late. Carly was sitting on her father's lap, leaning back, watching the game and licking her lips. Beth could see his limp penis lying forlornly beneath her butt, which rested on his thighs. Her own legs were straddling his, draped beside his knees. Tom's hand was inside her panties, and his fingers were obviously stroking his daughter's clitty.

"I thought you were going to take your time," said Beth to Carly.

Carly looked over at her mother.

"I guess I got impatient," said the girl, whose eyes were bright. "And I got horny, but Daddy's helping me with that."

"I can see that," said Beth.

She sat in the recliner and looked at the TV. But within ten minutes, the noises her daughter was making made her want to put her hand in her own panties.

She went to her bedroom to do that, though, instead of stripping down in front of them.

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