Original Edition

Copyright 2026 Robert Lubrican

License Notes

This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.  This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people.  If you would like to share this book with another person, please lend them your e-reader.

Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Table of Contents

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six

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Chapter One

Life throws you curve balls now and then and you do the best you can to get through it.

Bob Gordon knew that, and when problems arose he gave it his best shot. Sometimes he felt like it went well and sometimes ... well ... he just had to hope he'd done the right thing.

Everything had seemed to go pretty well for the first twenty years of his life. He'd gotten through childhood without any major injuries and then negotiated his teens in reasonable fashion. Education had always come easy for him and college did too. Of course some of that was due to the fact that his parents lived thirty miles from town on what, a few decades earlier, would have been called a commune. Except it was just them, instead of a whole group of people. In those decades past they would have been called hippies, too. They played at farming, with a huge garden and a few stock animals that kept them in meat. Bob's father - and Bob, when he got old enough - kept the place in good repair. The neighbors, who really were farmers, didn't think "those Gordon people" were odd, but maybe that's because almost all of them were Amish. Bob's dad - and Bob - were always willing to lend a hand in times of need, such as harvest, or when a new barn was going up. There were things the Gordons could do that helped out a lot. The Gordons had electricity and while the Amish didn't want that for themselves, they didn't see any problem with benefiting from others using it.

More of his good education came from home schooling, which his parents worked harder at than he did.

In any case, college seemed easy to Bob, though it opened his eyes to a whole new world. He'd studied that world, but not seen much of it up to that point.

The only real bump in the road was that because of the way he was raised, he didn't have much access to girls his own age as he was growing up. College changed that drastically and he went a little girl crazy. He was confident, reasonably handsome, and smart, which made him attractive to lots of girls. But that lack of previous experience was what hurt him.

Basically, he chose the wrong one to fall in love with.

Sherry was happy, at first, but like many women she thought she could mold Bob into the man she wanted, instead of accepting him for the man he was.

Two years and one daughter later, she realized that wasn't going to happen and gave up on the marriage. Along with figuring out Bob wasn't the man she wanted after all, she also realized motherhood wasn't what she'd expected it to be and that she didn't want to be tied down with a child. Part of that was because, in her subconscious, she knew she wasn't good parent material. She wouldn't have admitted that out loud, but she knew it. She also knew Bob was a good parent. Part of the problem, in her mind, was that she felt like Bob loved their year-old little girl more than he loved her.

It wasn't true, of course, but that's how she interpreted his behavior.

And so, being a geologist, she went off to work for an oil company in South America and left the tatters of her married life behind. She did well, but that's not really part of the story.

This story is about how Bob coped with being a single parent and raised Cindy.

He raised her much like he was raised. That's normal. We all parent as we were parented. It's all most new parents know how to do, after all. In Bob's case that meant there was a lot of nudity. Nudity had been pretty normal when he was growing up. His parents hadn't been shy about showing each other affection, either. Bob had known what porn looked like long before he saw any of it on the internet. Except the "porn" he saw wasn't acted out in front of a camera crew, by people who didn't love each other and just wanted to get through the scenes so they could go home to the people they really wanted to be around.

Another aspect of Bob and Cindy's life that was similar to his own upbringing was that he owned his own business and worked from home. His exposure to computers, prior to college, was an old PC that still ran Windows XP and still had a dial-up internet connection. In the modern computing world his internet access had been limited, primarily by the speed of the connection. When he found out how much more things had advanced, his curiosity caused an insatiable hunger to know everything about the "new" technology. His major changed to computer science and his degree led to a computer repair business that let him do what he loved to do and paid the bills to boot.

Where things diverged a bit was that Bob didn't keep Cindy out of the public school system. He wanted her to have what he had missed - exposure to kids her own age. He wanted her to have friends, playmates, social equals.

That said, he augmented her education, going more deeply into her school subjects than her teachers could.

And he coped with his child's needs by being her father ... and doing what he thought her mother would do, were she still there.

This included such things as teaching her personal hygiene. He'd always done her hair for her. He got her her first bra and showed her how to wear it.

He got her dressed for her dance recitals.

He helped her shop for clothes.

When her menses arrived he started her on pads and then, later, when she asked for tampons, researched that with her and bought her first box. She wanted help with that first tampon, so he helped her.

He helped her shave her bikini-cut when that became necessary.

Eventually, he critiqued her attire and appearance when she got ready for a date.

And ... he taught her how to masturbate ... so she could deal with the feelings and emotions that resulted from those dates.

He was up front about all these very personal things. Cindy knew that most fathers didn't see their daughters stark naked on a regular basis, not to mention shaving their most personal areas for them. She knew that most girls had no idea what their father's penis looked like - either soft or hard. She'd learned at an early age that when daddy's penis got hard, he massaged it to make it feel better. Later she learned more about that, but part of that education was that it was normal to have the feelings associated with being horny and normal to want to do something about it. What that "something" was was important, because doing the wrong thing could cause real problems. Pregnancy was fine for later in life, but not when Cindy was in her teens.

So masturbation was something she was both familiar with, and comfortable with as well.

Both when he did it ... and when she did.

He didn't flaunt it. If he was naked and got erect (which, truth be known, as often as not was because she was naked, too) then he said something like, "Be back in a bit," and went to his room. When he emerged he was soft again. She did basically the same thing, though when she got horny it was usually because she was thinking about a boy at school.

She didn't have to wonder about that. As stated before, he was up front with her about everything. The first time she showed any curiosity about the fact that his penis got long and hard sometimes, he explained it to her. She knew that a lot of her father's erections were because he thought she was beautiful, naked or not.

And that didn't bother her a bit. She didn't think about it, but a lot of her unconcern with the fact that her father lusted after her sometimes was based on the fact that he'd never touched her in a blatantly sexual manner.

Well ... other than the time he taught her about her clitoris, and how to rub it.

But other than that, he'd never touched her in any of the ways her girlfriends at school talked about their boyfriends touching them.

In short, she knew her daddy thought she was beautiful and sexy and desirable. That's something all girls want to believe. Sadly, many of them don't get to honestly feel that way until well after their teens.

So Cindy was happy with her home life, even though she knew it was different than that of her friends.

She teased him about it a little bit, once in a while. She was careful of how she dressed outside the home. She wanted to fit in with the other girls. But at home she was as relaxed as possible. That meant wearing as little as the weather allowed. As she grew older his response to her nudity, or partial nudity, made her giggle sometimes. She especially liked coming straight from the shower, naked, and hugging him good night before she went to bed. She knew he'd get a boner and go to his room to rub it soft again.

She wasn't mean about it. She knew he didn't mind.

For them ... it was normal.

Then something changed that impacted their lives in ways they wouldn't realize for almost a year.

She got a boyfriend.

His name was Rick and he was her first mad crush.

Bob recognized the emotions she displayed.

And, since her hymen had already been lost to tampons, he took her to the doctor to get her fitted for her first diaphragm. He didn't trust the pill, didn't like the idea of pharmaceuticals altering her body chemistry, so he did the best he could, otherwise.

As with everything else they'd done as he raised her, they both researched this new thing in their lives ... and, after the doctor educated her about its use, they practiced installing and removing the device until both were sure they understood the process completely. She was sure she wouldn't need it. Not until she was in her twenties.

He hoped she was right.

Dating had proceeded, during which Cindy was honest with her father about what feelings Rick brought out in her. She didn't mind admitting to making out and petting, because Bob didn't get angry about that. He just counseled her on how to manage the feelings.

Rick went and a boy named David took his place. Then there was Aaron, and Thomas, and three others before Josh, who lasted much longer than any of the others had.

It was Josh who asked her to prom.

She was sixteen, young for a junior and of course she was excited beyond anything Bob had ever observed in her.

So he decided to go all out for this one.

They went shopping for a dress. The one she fell in love with had no back. She couldn't wear a bra with it, but he said he had something in mind to deal with that. She went braless a lot anyway so she wasn't worried. He suggested she'd feel sexier in thigh-high hose, held up by a garter belt. That was exciting. It made her feel more grown up.

On the big night, he helped her get dressed. He hadn't done that in a while, but she didn't mind. It was exciting to be naked with him and see his eyes as she put on the hose and he adjusted the garter belt. He held her panties for her as she stepped into them and pulled them up, tugging and getting them snug against her pussy.

He produced two adhesive strips, commonly called Band-aids.

"What are those for?" she asked.

"Watch," he said.

He reached for her left nipple and tweaked it.

"Daddy!" she giggled. "That tickles. What are you doing?"

"Just watch," he said, rolling the nipple between his thumb and first two fingers. Her nipples were well-formed, fat nubbins that sat on coral-colored areolas.

"That feels ... " She blushed. Some of her dates had done this to her - when she let them - which wasn't often. Her nipples were sensitive and she knew it was dangerous to let a boy play with them too much. Only one boy had sucked a nipple and she'd made him stop almost instantly as danger signals flared in her mind.

"I know," he said. He removed his fingers. "That one is erect," he said, needlessly.

"Well duh," she said.

He peeled the backing off a Band-aid and stuck it across the nipple he hadn't abused.

"Put your dress on now," he said. "Hurry."

She did and he arranged her in front of the mirror.

"Oh," she said, laughing. The hard nipple poked through the dress. The other one was nice and smooth. "You're so smart!"

"Think you can manage the other one?" he asked, handing her the second Band-aid. "I need to go to my room."

"Awww," she said, taking the plastic strip. "Is Daddy horny?"

"Daddy is more worried about you getting horny than how horny he is," he said.

"I'm already horny," said Cindy, grinning.

"Greeaat," sighed Bob.

"Don't worry," she giggled. "I know how to handle Josh."

"I'm worried about how he's going to want to handle you," said Bob. "This is prom. A lot of boys have expectations about what happens after prom. I heard all the stories when I was a freshman in college."

"I like him, but not that much," giggled Cindy.

"Things can get out of control," warned Bob.

"You've told me that so many times I can't count them," sighed Cindy.

Bob reached for the little plastic holder on top of her dresser.

"This is mandatory, tonight," he said, sternly.

She took it, opened it and pulled out the diaphragm. An impish look came over her face.

"You want to put it in yourself?" she asked, coyly.

"Maybe I should," he said. "I want to be sure it's in right."

Five minutes later the diaphragm was firmly in place, well-sealed around her cervix with a spermicidal coating, and Cindy finished getting dressed with a grin on her face.

She was grinning because she knew her father was in his room, masturbating ... because she was beautiful and sexy.

She was also horny.

He'd emerged from his room, calm and relaxed. She'd already applied her makeup and the last thing to do was her hair. It was long and fine, so he arranged it in a French braid down her back. There was only a four inch zipper in the back of the dress. She'd gotten it three inches closed, and he finished the job.

Josh arrived to pick her up and honked. Bob went out and informed him it was appropriate for a young man to come to the door and meet his date's parent(s). Josh snickered, but went back to the house with Bob.

There was a minimum of chit-chat before Cindy appeared. Both men sighed as she struck a pose.

"Wow," said Josh.

"I am giving you temporary custody of my only daughter," said Bob. "I hope you realize the value of this boon."

"Oh, I do," said Josh. "I'll take good care of her."

"You'd better," said Bob.

Then they were gone and Bob sat down to worry.

It was four A.M. when the door opened and Cindy came inside. Bob had vetoed an all night after-party, and the change of clothing that went with that. Cindy had pouted, but respected her father's wishes.

She hadn't expected him to wait up for her ... but he had. He'd dozed off in the recliner, but put the footrest down before she was ten feet past the door.

"You're up," she said, her voice surprised.

"I'm a dad," he said. "Dads do that."

"You haven't before," she said.

"Of course I have," he argued.

"That was years ago," she said.

"You've been dating less than a year," he pointed out. "So ... how'd it go?"

Her face broke into a grin.

"It was wonderful!" she gushed. "I had such a good time."

"I'm glad," he said. "Off to bed."

"Okay," she said.

It was normal for her to go to him for a good night hug and kiss.

"You've been drinking!" he said. He frowned.

"Only a little bit," she said, alarmed for not thinking about him smelling it on her breath.

"I thought we talked about this," he said, sternly.

"Daddy. I only had a few sips. Everybody was drinking."

"That's no excuse," he said. "I taught you to stand firm in your own beliefs."

"I know," she sighed. "I promise, it was only a few sips ... you know ... just so nobody would get weird about it."

"I'm not happy, Cindy," he said, heavily.

"I know," she moaned. "I'm sorry."

"We'll talk about this in the morning," he said.

"Okay," she said softly. She turned to walk to her room.

Bob noticed that zipper was only pulled up three of the four inches again.

"Wait!" he said.

She turned, a questioning look on her face.

"Did you have sex with Josh?"

"What?" She seemed truly surprised.

"The zipper on your dress isn't closed completely."

"Oh," she said. "I let him play with my breasts a little bit while we were making out. But that's all. That's all I ever let guys do. You know that."

"Do I? Really? You drank alcohol tonight, and you've never done that before," he said. "Is that all you really let him do?"

"Of course that's all," she said.

"I think maybe I'd better confirm that," he said.

"And how would you do that?" she asked, confused.

"Is your diaphragm still in?" he asked.

"Of course it is!" she yipped.

"Well let's just see about that," he said.

Her dress was off. So were the panties. The hose and garter belt were still on.

She was lying sideways on her bed with her knees at the edge of the mattress, her lower legs hanging down. Her knees were spread wide, exposing her sexual core to her father. The only thing she felt any guilt about was that the Band-aids were long gone from her nipples. It seemed odd to feel guilty about that. He knew her dates played with her breasts sometimes.

"I'm going to take it out, now," he said, kneeling between her thighs.

"I can't believe you don't trust me," she said, her voice tight.

"I know how things can get out of control," he said.

Instead of inserting his fingers to hook the edge of the diaphragm, he spread her vulva and just peered at her.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Looking for semen," he said, darkly.

She lifted her head.

"What if he wore a condom, Daddy?" she said, acid in her voice.

Bob blinked. She almost laughed, but knew it would hurt his feelings if she did.

"I didn't have sex tonight, Daddy. I'm still a virgin. I can't believe you don't trust me!"

Instead of responding verbally, he inverted his right hand and probed inside her, feeling for the rim of the diaphragm. In the process the base of his fingers pressed against her clit. Her hips gave an involuntary jerk.

"Did I hurt you?" asked Bob, anxiously, withdrawing his fingers.

"No. You just rubbed my bump," she said.

"Oh," he said. "Sorry."

"Go ahead," she said.

He went in again. He hadn't done this since teaching her how to do it. His lack of experience made it difficult to do without rubbing her clit, so he tried to complete his task quickly. Her hips rose and fell three times and she moaned before he finally hooked the rim and tugged the flexible disc from her sexual channel.

"Sorry," he said again, as he stood up. Her face was flushed and one of her hands had moved to cover her mons. Her index finger replaced the base of his fingers and she used it to circle her bud.

"I was horny when I got home," she said, lifting her head to look at him again. "Then you ruined it. Now I'm horny again."

He stood and stared at her, lying open on the bed. His cock stiffened almost instantly. He was fully dressed, for once, in case she called and he had to go pick her up. She knew she could call for help if her date got unruly. Even so, the thin fabric of his slacks did nothing to hide his arousal.

"Other daddies don't do this with their daughters," she said, softly.

"I know," he sighed. "I just worry about you so much."

"I worry about you, too," she replied.

"Me? Why would you worry about me?"

"I thought about it while I was out on my date tonight. I was having such a good time. But you never go out on dates. You never have. Other daddies have wives to sleep with. I know you're lonely."

"I'm not lonely. I have you. You're all I need."

"Josh tried to put his hand in my panties," she said.

"And just how did his hand get close enough to try?"

"He ran it up my leg and found the garter belt. It made him a little crazy."

"I can imagine," he said, staring down at his little girl, dressed only in a garter belt and hose.

"You're looking at me just like he did," she said. There was a little smile on her lipsticked mouth.

"You're a beautiful young woman and I'm a man," he said.

Her eyes dropped to the front of his pants.

"He got like that too, especially while we danced." She licked her lips. "Hard," she added, needlessly.

He'd never been ashamed of the boners she cause in him. Suddenly he was. His hand came to cover the shame of his erection.

"How did that make you feel?" he asked.

"Funny. It made me want to be careful."

"Careful?"

"It made me want to rub, Daddy."

"Well that's normal," he sighed. "We've talked about that."

"Yes, but I never thought that much about it until tonight. I knew Josh wanted to have sex with me, and I had to be careful not to let him."

"You ... wanted to ... let him?" His voice was suddenly dark.

"No. But I got this feeling that if I let him do too much I might start wanting to let him."

"You're a smart girl."

"I've had a good teacher," she said.

"All I've ever done is tell you not to let a boy have sex with you," he said.

"But you showed me what things feel like."

"Showed you?"

"When you put in the diaphragm," she said. Her eyes half closed. "And when you took it out, a little bit ago."

"Oh," he said, remembering how her hot, clasping pussy had felt around his finger. "That wasn't my intent."

"I know, but I couldn't help but feel things."

"And how did that make you feel?"

She blinked. She had done nothing to hide her nakedness from him and her legs were still spread, exposing her sex completely.

"I liked it, actually. I was mad at you at first, but I got over it. I know you love me. I love you too. I think that's why I enjoyed it."

"People wouldn't approve of that," he said, softly.

"I know. I don't care. It's none of their business. It's just between you and me."

"Do you understand what you're saying?" His mind was whirling.

"Of course. I know people would say it's wrong, but it doesn't feel wrong. I didn't want Josh to touch me ... but I like it when you do."

"Wow," he sighed.

"Maybe you should put my diaphragm back in," she suggested.

"What?" The imagery that burst into his mind was uncontrollable. For some reason he visualized it from above and behind, her legs wrapped around his thrusting hips, her hands smoothing over his back as he pounded into her. The urge to do just that shocked him. "We can't do that, Cindy. That's out of the question."

He was also shocked when she had no problem understanding his meaning.

"Silly. Not that. I meant just for practice," she said. "I mean it took you a while to get it in right, and then it took you a while to get it back out."

He sat and thought.

"I'm going to read between the lines here. It sounds to me like you want to be touched. You want me to touch you."

"Busted," she sighed. "But didn't I already tell you I like it when you touch me?"

"What we've already done is bad enough," he said. "I mean as far as other people would look at it. I've reacted to you inappropriately in the past. I'm reacting to you inappropriately now! I feel bad about that," he confessed.

"And I don't. Some boy is going to touch me some day. Don't you think I should be prepared for that? Don't you think I should know what that's going to feel like?"

"I don't want to think about that," he sighed.

"But you know it's going to happen. Some day you're going to walk me down the aisle and give me away to another man. I can't imagine that, but I know it will probably happen. Until then, though, you're my man. You're the only one I want to touch me."

"And putting your diaphragm in is your excuse to do that."

"Busted again," she said, smiling.

He thought some more, trying to muster the strength to deny her.

"If we do this, I'm going to want to touch you like those boys all want to touch you," he said.

"Of course," she said. "That's the whole point."

"I might want to do more than you want," he groaned.

"I stop the guys I go on dates with. You know that. I'll stop you when I think I need to. That's practice for me, too."

"Okay," he said, knowing he was surrendering to his own lusts. "How do you want to start?"

Her hand came to rest on her abdomen. He couldn't help but think it was a protective gesture, conscious or not, shielding her womb.

"Well, the first thing you need to do is take off your clothes," she whispered.

Chapter Two

It was while he was disrobing that he realized this was all real. He was about to expose his erection to his baby girl. That wasn't unusual in and of itself ... but the setting was different. The purpose was different. The fact that she was obviously eager to see it was what made it impossible to resist doing.

Then, when he finally stood up, his boner jutting from his loins, she didn't close her legs. That protective hand on her belly moved, but her fingers didn't bar entrance to her pussy lips. Instead one finger went back to stroke a circle around her clit.

"It's beautiful," she said, softly.

"Really?" He'd always thought of it as ugly, bent, gnarled.

"That made me," she sighed. "That actually made a baby!"

"Which is why I don't want one of them inside you," he admitted.

"I know you're supposed to touch me, but can I touch you, too?" she asked.

"The boy will want you to," he said.

"Some of them have tried that, but I always said no. I never wanted to touch them. I don't feel that way when I think about touching you, though."

"I suppose you need to learn how to handle one. Boys can get aggressive."

She was a fast learner, so fast that his mind tried to tell him she'd done this before. He couldn't imagine that, though, so he pushed that thought aside.

"This is fun!" she said. "I never thought it would be fun."

That reassured him it really was her first time.

"It's fun for me, too," he said.

"Remember when you taught me how to rub?" she asked, stroking him slowly.

"Of course," he said. He'd felt a little guilty about that, too, back then, but had rationalized that she needed to know how to do that to control her feelings.

"I knew right away that I'd do that a lot," she said. "I loved it."

"You're supposed to," he said. "It's a valuable tool for a girl full of hormones."

"I wanted you to do it again," she said. "But you never offered to, so I got used to doing it myself."

"Daddies aren't supposed to do that for their daughters."

"Other daddies," she said, stroking smoothly. "When will your semen come out?"

"It's complicated," he said. "It has to be done just right."

"I'm doing it wrong?"

"Not exactly. I mean if you kept going, eventually it would spurt, but the speed and grip - and my mindset - have to be just right to get it to go off on command."

"What mindset?"

"It helps if I'm thinking about making love to a woman," he said.

"What woman do you usually think about?"

"Well ..." He didn't finish. She looked at his face and saw it was inflamed. There weren't any women in his life ... except her.

"Me?" she guessed. That guess sent a thrill through her that made goose bumps appear on her body. Her nipples also erected instantly.

"I shouldn't," he groaned.

"It's okay," she said, still feeling amazement that he'd think about her that way. She looked back at his penis. "I know one of these will go inside me some day. I can't imagine that. I've put a finger inside me and there's no room for something like this to go in there."

"Trust me, it will fit," he groaned. His mind alerted him to the inference he'd just made. "I don't mean mine," he added, hastily.

"It's scary to even think about," she said. "Not yours. Yours isn't scary. But it would never fit. I don't care what you say."

"Not mine," he said, repeating her comment, though with a very different meaning. He was thinking about what it might be like feeling him proving her wrong.

That thought got him in the right mind set and suddenly the urge to spew was there, banging on the door to his balls.

"Cindy!" he gasped.

She looked away from his prick - at his face - just as the first soothing jet of cum raced through it, and she missed seeing that first stream arc upwards a foot. She felt it on her wrist as it fell and looked back to see two more shoot into the air.

"Oh look!" she squealed, her mind whirling at everything that was happening. She felt the heat on her wrist. Her hand felt the pulse inside his penis. She knew what was happening, and that she was the one who had made it happen. It was exciting and she wanted it to go on and on.

Of course it didn't, and he soon began to wilt inside her hand. He didn't stop her because it felt too good, but eventually there was nothing to stroke anymore and she reluctantly pulled her hand away. Only then did she inspect the drops of his essence on her wrist and hand. She sniffed, but detected no odor. She knew girls claimed to have tasted this stuff. She'd thought that was goofy before this. Now, because it came from a man she loved with all her heart ... it didn't seem so goofy anymore.

She stuck the tip of her tongue out and scooped up a dollop of the milky stuff.

Bob watched, frozen as she tasted. Her face betrayed nothing.

"A little bitter," she finally commented. "Salty, too. Strange."

"Wow," he said, the word gushing from his mouth. He realized he'd been holding his breath.

"That was fun!" she said. She examined her hand. "Messy, but fun. Be right back."

She jumped up and went to the bathroom, returning with a towel she was cleaning her appendage with. She looked unbelievably erotic still wearing only the hose and garter belt. As she used the same towel to clean his appendage, he felt it trying - unsuccessfully - to become erect again.

"Maybe someday I'll suck it," she said, astonishing Bob.

It didn't get any better when she tossed the towel aside and said, "Now it's my turn. I'm so horny I'm dripping."

What let him take care of her with little concern was the fact that he'd just cum hard and felt fully satisfied. There was no urge to cram her full of his spurting prick. He couldn't, even if he wanted to. He felt like his cock wouldn't get hard again for weeks.

He also wanted to return the favor. He wanted her to feel as good as she'd made him feel.

As good as she looked, he told her to remove the hose and belt, which he knew would obstruct his hand as it slid over her skin. Then he arranged himself on the bed beside her and commenced to rock her world.

Cindy already knew that boys her age lusted after her. That was just a fact of life. She knew men looked at her, too, but had never really been able to believe they'd actually want to do something with her. Like many girls, she assumed adult males would view her as "a little kid". Their genuine sexual interest would be in older women.

Likewise, her own attitude towards males of the species buttressed her assumption that "sex with an adult" was a crazy, impossible thing. She knew a few men who made her nipples tingle, but she'd never thought about actually doing anything with any of them. She loved her father. He was someone she knew she could trust implicitly. He was always there for her. She knew he loved her, and that he would always love her, no matter what. It was that very love they already shared that made her feel like exploring things sexual with him was the most rational and normal thing she could do.

It was, in fact, her well-established feelings for her daddy that made her think of him while she masturbated. He was the only man in her life who she felt close enough to invite into that kind of private moment. The fact that he thought about her while he masturbated got her sexual motor revving. The fact she had just pulled his essence from within his body already had her inexperienced lust index cranked up.

He'd touched her before, of course. He hugged her all the time. He had kissed her countless times. He'd touched her sexual 99"parts" before, such as when he taught her how to use a tampon, and of course when they practiced with the diaphragm. But what he did now was a new way of touching she hadn't been prepared for. She loved it, but she wasn't prepared for it.

Just the feel of his hands on her body, sliding all over, touching her breasts (new) and her butt (new) and even her hips (new) made her feel like she might melt into a puddle of happiness.

Then he kissed her, a kiss of a kind that was so different than any kiss he'd ever bestowed on her before that she had a hard time remembering he was actually her daddy.

All that was like smoke in the wind, though, when he suddenly, and without warning, slid his middle finger into her swampy pussy and went searching for the mouth of her womb, which had so recently been encased in a protective rubber barrier.

Now ... it wasn't.

It was easy for him to find and the tip of his finger pried at that opening before rimming it over and over again.

Her whole body went into rigor. Fortunately, she'd just taken a breath when he did it, because her intercostal muscles suddenly weren't working. Still, she felt light-headed as he used the base of his finger to maul her clit. Then he sucked a stiff nipple and the shock of that feeling loosened her muscles, letting her expel her breath and get another one, only to go on overload again as he tried to intensify what she was feeling. Her shoulders punched into the bed as her back arched, trying to make sure his mouth didn't abandon her inflamed nipple. Her hips lurched up and her left leg shot out to the side, that heel digging in to help her hips rise. She had the insane wish that he could get his entire hand up inside her.

She felt the part of his hand that wasn't inside her push on her mons, making her butt come back into contact with the bed and his finger began to slide out of her.

"Noooo," she wailed, only to have that cut off like a banana chopped with a cleaver, as he used three stiff fingers to whip back and forth, mauling her distended clit. Again her hips tried to lurch upward, and this time he let her as she gave him even more room to molest her sexual bud. It felt entirely different than what she did, even though her motions were identical when she rubbed off. The pressure he could bring to bear with his big, strong daddy fingers was unbelievable.

It was so intense that she went off like a roman candle. That, alone, astonished her, because it almost always took her at least half an hour to work up to an orgasm. He'd only been touching her for a minute! Or at least that's what it felt like.

But there it was, rushing upon her like the waves of the Pacific Ocean had when she was ten and they visited her aging grandmother in Santa Barbara. The first of those waves had mauled her entire body and terrified her. She hadn't been prepared for the power. She'd seen other people just walking around in the surf, unaffected. But then she'd landed in a heap on the sand and been able to breathe and rub her eyes dry and the situation had suddenly gotten much more interesting. Now that she knew she was safe, and what to expect, it seemed like it had been crazy fun. She'd done it over and over again, just letting the ocean have its way with her. In the end, that day, she was scraped up all over her body, but exhilarated anyway.

She welcomed this wave with no fear whatsoever, though, and as it washed over her body she already knew she'd beg him to make her feel this way again. She wanted to do this over and over again, too.

It was the perfect storm. Just as her brain notified her that things were too sensitive down there for him to keep going, he slid a finger back in her and stopped, just letting it rest inside her, spreading her tissues. He stopped sucking her nipple and just kissed all around it, moving slowly up and over her chin to seal his lips to hers. When his tongue probed, all her former thoughts about how nasty French kissing must be also vanished like smoke in the wind and she opened her lips happily to take in one more (new) thing. It was so gentle and his tongue felt so wonderfully slippery that she felt like she could do that forever.

Finally he lifted his lips and rolled away. His finger seemed to stick gently inside her for a second, and then broke loose. She sighed at the loss as he pulled that invader out of her. She realized she was breathing like she'd just run one of Coach Hudson's suicide drills he loved to inflict on people when he was mad about something.

She rolled her head to look at this completely new man in her life, and saw him breathing easily, a stupid grin on his face.

"Sorry," he said. "I might have gone a bit fast. I kind of got excited."

"You have ... to do ... that again!" she panted.

His grin vanished, to be replaced by a frown.

"That's my point," he said. "This stuff feels so good that even adults lose control. You must never, never let yourself get in that position while you're on a date. If you do, you'll get fucked, plain and simple. You won't be able to resist, and even if you do, he won't be able - or willing - to stop. That's how some women get raped, Baby. Making out a little bit on a date is fine, but when you start getting to the serious stuff then that's when babies get made."

"I don't want to do that with anybody else," she said.

"For now," he cautioned. "And it was wrong for me to do that in the first place. Fathers aren't supposed to feel like this about their daughters."

"I don't see anything wrong with it," said Cindy. "Not for us. I don't know about anybody else, but I don't think we did anything wrong at all."

"I'm glad you feel that way," he said. "I mean the last thing I want to do is freak you out or hurt you in any way. But it isn't normal, Cindy."

"Has our life ever been normal? Most kids have a mom and dad. I don't. Most girls don't have to do the laundry and cook. I do. I'm pretty sure all my friends didn't get taught how to use a tampon by their fathers. I did. I'm even really sure that all my friends would say, 'Ewwww' at the thought of their fathers doing to them what you just did to me. But I loved it. They can be them and we can be us. That's fine. I don't care about anybody else. All I care about is our family and in our family, what just happened was fantastic and I want it to happen again!"

"Cindy," he said, softly. "Honey, listen to me. The only reason you didn't get fucked this time was because I was still soft from having an orgasm."

She blinked.

"You mean you wanted to ... do that? Really?"

"Of course I did," he groaned. "I'm a man. Even though I know it's completely wrong to think about doing that with you, I still wanted to. We can't keep doing this, because sooner or later something really bad will happen."

"But I loved it," she whined.

"And I'd love to climb on top of you and fill your belly with my prick right now!" he said urgently. "But that's crazy. Impossible. Way out of line!"

"Well we won't do that, then," she said. "I agree. But that doesn't mean I can't feel what I just felt again. I'll just jerk you off each time before you do that and then you'll be fine."

Bob knew that was the rationale of callow youth.

But she was adamant. And she was naked, right next to him, her legs still spread, willing - no eager - to have him touch her again.

And he was a man, after all.

He gave her one more orgasm, this time finger-fucking her, using the base of his finger to repeatedly beat her clit until she cried out in ecstasy.

By then, however, he was hard again.

Instead of letting her jerk him off again, he covered his boner and sent her to bed.

Only then did he flog his log, beating it like it owed him money and couldn't pay up.

Things seemed impossibly normal for the next few days. Cindy slept late the next day, not getting up until noon. By then he'd already been to the local home center and was installing the new ceiling fan he'd gotten to replace the old light fixture in the kitchen.

She appeared, naked and hungry, ignoring him as she got something to calm her growling stomach.

She watched him work while she ate and then got dressed to go to her friend Charlene's house.

The next two days went by as if nothing had happened between them at all. Cindy hugged him and gave him pecks on the cheek, but did nothing overtly sexual towards him. Her demeanor was as normal as pie. Each day, when she got home from school, she did her homework and then whatever chores needed doing. She texted her friends, like always, or watched TV, or read a book. As far as he could tell, what had happened between them seemed to have had no impact on her at all.

Had he been able to read her mind, though, he would have known that wasn't the case at all.

Cindy wasn't fully mature, but she was intelligent and she tried to make decisions carefully, using her brain rather than her emotions. One example of that was the fact that Prom night wasn't the first time she'd been an underage drinker. About six months prior to that, at a sleepover, she'd taken sips of rum and Coke until she was tipsy. Her fogged mind knew immediately, though, that this was something that could become addictive. She'd been told that all her life, but now she finally understood it. She'd stayed clear of booze since then, until prom night. She'd told her father the truth. She really had taken only a few sips, fitting in with the others. Some of them had gotten wasted, but Cindy hadn't felt the effect of the little she'd drunk at all.

That had been intentional. The instant gratification of getting drunk wasn't worth the trouble it could cause. Not to Cindy.

Being touched by her father after prom had been the same kind of thing. She knew within seconds that she wanted him to touch her every day for the rest of her life. She had been shocked to her core to learn that sex was addictive! And all he'd done was touch her!

It had been particularly troubling, after she had calmed down and had time to think about it. That was because one of her friends, Veronica Summers, had mounted a campaign before prom to try to talk Cindy into letting Josh fuck her. Veronica was the definition of a 'party girl', who liked to talk about how fantastic having sex was, at least within her tight little circle of friends. She never did anything with them anymore because she and her boyfriend spent every possible minute together. Ronnie was one of those girls who want to believe the fairy tale can be lived, and that everyone will live happily ever after. So she tried to get other girls to jump into the story and do the things she did.

"You should let Josh do you after prom," she had said, a week before the dance. "You don't know what you're missing. You'll thank me afterwards. You'll love it. I promise."

"I'll think about it," said Cindy, knowing that would put Veronica off, at least for a day or two.

Two days later Ronnie pressed two condoms into her hand. "They're fresh," she said. "And they're ribbed," she added, grinning. "Have you told him yet?" She assumed her powers of persuasion had gotten Cindy on board the sex train.

"I'm going to surprise him," said Cindy, slipping the condoms in her pocket. "Not a word, okay?"

"I bet if I told him he'd have a boner for the rest of the week," giggled Ronnie.

"No. Not one word," said Cindy. "I want to see the look in his eyes when he finds out. Promise me!"

"Okay, okay. But he'll probably pop off right away. He'll be too excited. It's okay, though. Guys our age can rejuvenate really quick."

"What do you mean guys our age?" asked Cindy, perking up. "Ronnie. Have you been doing it with some older guy?"

"Maaaybe," said Veronica, unembarrassed. "But I can't talk about it. If anybody found out he could get in big trouble."

"You're a slut!" whispered Cindy.

"I know," grinned Veronica. "But I'm a happy slut."

That had been it. Veronica, assuming she'd converted Cindy, spent the remaining time before prom trying to arrange for an orgy to take place at the after prom party she and her friends were going to. It had been a wild party, that was for sure. There'd been a lot of booze and a lot of making out. Cindy had seen at least five couples go into the bedroom and Veronica had ended up topless before her boyfriend had picked her up and carried her over his shoulder into that room.

It had been interesting to watch, but when she looked at Josh, she just saw a guy she liked spending time with a lot. She liked kissing him, too and it was exciting when his hands wandered. But he wasn't the man she wanted to lose her virginity to. She knew that deep down inside. But she really did like him. She liked him enough, in fact, to be very up front about how she felt. She did that when a very drunk Veronica pushed Cindy and Josh, stumbling along the way, towards the bedroom.

"You'll thank me," she'd slurred.

So, once behind the bedroom door, standing beside a bed that was a disgusting mess, she'd told him she liked him more than any other boy she'd ever gone out with, but there would be no sex.

To her delighted surprise, he'd given out a relieved sigh. "Wow. I was scared shitless you'd want to do that. I don't want to either. All I can think about when I think about that stuff is getting the girl pregnant. That would fuck up my life completely."

"Not to mention hers," Cindy had pointed out, dryly.

"Yeah, that, too," Josh had said, so distracted by thoughts of his own downfall that he missed the tone of her voice.

"So what should we do?" asked Cindy.

"There is one thing I've always wanted to do but was too chicken to ask you," said Josh.

Which is how Cindy had ended up with the top of her dress down around her waist and Josh's lips fastened to each of her nipples in turn. And which is when he ran his hand up her leg under her dress and felt the garter belt. She hadn't minded that. It had even been fun to pull her dress up and show it to him. But when they returned to sharing hot kisses and he'd tried to put his hand in her panties, she'd made him stop and told him the fifteen minutes was up.

She'd made him stop because it was starting to feel like she had when she'd gotten tipsy at that slumber party. That sent up a red flag and she paid attention to red flags.

Which was why it had been so earth-shaking to the teen when no red flag had popped up at all when her father touched her. In fact, she had felt completely safe as she explored something with him she was afraid to do with any other male. Part of her mind had been astonished when, rather than wanting him to stop, she had wanted him to go on!

Afterwards, in her room, lying in bed and masturbating slowly, she thought about how he had wanted to go on, too. It was an accepted fact that men were horny all the time and that most would try to get as far as possible if a girl let them. That was why she had always been so careful about letting a boy get very far at all. Josh was the first to see her breasts, the first to touch them with his lips. He was the first to touch her panties - actually the first to get his hand between her legs at all. She'd wanted to let him go farther and that had scared her.

But when her father touched her she hadn't been scared. Even when she was loving it so much she'd just let it happen.

And the thought of letting him do what he obviously wanted to do - but what he said they could never do - didn't scare her at all, either.

And that was what worried her.

So she took a few days to think about it all. She tried to do some 'what-iffing,' but it was too foreign. She knew that amounted to day-dreaming, or fantasy, rather than rational decision-making.

In the end, she came to the realization that she'd finally met a man to whom she would happily give her virginity. She'd lived with him all her life, but in a strange sense it was as if she had just met him.

Bob was lying in bed reading when Cindy tapped on the open door frame. He looked up and saw she was naked.

"What's up?" he asked, feeling blood beginning to stiffen his penis. He was naked, too, and he placed the book over his traitorous cock to hide it.

"Nothing," she said. "I just wanted to talk to you."

"What about?" he asked.

She took that as an invitation and came to lie down beside him. He felt the fluff of her pubes against his thigh and one hot breast touched his arm.

"We're naked, here," he observed.

"I know," she said. "We've been naked before."

"Prom night sort of changed the dynamic," he said.

"I know," she said, in the same careless voice. "I think it was a good change."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Bob.

"I know you're worried, but you shouldn't be. I feel closer to you than I ever have."

She put one arm over his chest and laid her head on his shoulder.

"So ... why are we talking about this now?" asked Bob. "I mean you haven't said anything for days and now, suddenly you want to talk about it?"

"I've been thinking," she said.

"Oh," said Bob. "Care to share?"

"It's complicated," she said.

"That's the understatement of the century," said her father.

"The short version is that I don't feel like we did anything wrong. I don't think we could ever do anything wrong."

"What does that mean?" asked Bob, feeling his penis become almost fully erect.

"It means what I said," she said. "I don't think anything we ever do together will be wrong."

"We can't have sex, Cindy," he said, softly.

"Okay," she said. "But if we ever did, it wouldn't be wrong."

"It would be wrong on so many levels I can't list them all," he said.

"Maybe for other families," she said. "I'm not saying we have to do that. All I'm saying is that if we did, it wouldn't feel wrong to me. You asked me what I was thinking about, Daddy. All I'm doing is telling you. Don't have a cow, okay?"

"Oh. Okay," he said. There was so much whirling around in his mind that he couldn't pick one thing to actually think about for more than a few seconds. His daughter had just said she'd let him fuck her! That she wouldn't be freaked out if he did it! That she actually wanted to do it?

It helped that all she did was lie there with her head on his shoulder. She wasn't doing anything sexual, with the proviso that being nude with your equally nude father wasn't sexual. He was the one who was reacting sexually. He was rock hard. The book wasn't lying flat across his groin any longer.

Slowly he forced himself to focus on each of the concepts flittering through his mind. What should he do? What should he not do? What was she going to do? How should he react if she did this ... or that? He felt helpless. How had things come to this? Should he get up and go masturbate in the bathroom? Should he get her off and send her to bed?

He had plenty of questions. The problem was no answers materialized in his mind to bring any order into the chaos.

Finally he decided that talking about everything with her might help and his mind came back to the here and now.

Only to find her slow breaths and completely limp body announcing she'd fallen asleep on his shoulder.

Now the immediate issues were more defined. His boner demanded attention. There was no way he could go to sleep in the condition he was in. Especially if her warm, naked body was pressed to his all night.

He moved, disturbing her intentionally.

"Cindy," he said, softly.

"What?" Her voice was high, confused.

"You fell asleep. You need to get up and go to bed."

"I don't want to," she complained. "Can't I just stay here?"

"Honey, that's not a good idea."

"Why not? I'm sooo comfortable. I don't want to get up."

"I understand, Baby," he said. "But I'm not comfortable."

She lifted her head.

"Why not?"

"Sweetie, you can't come in here and tell me you're okay with having sex with me and think it won't affect me."

"Oh," she said, laying her head back down. "I told you we don't have to do anything."

"I know that," he said, frustration creeping into his voice. "But that doesn't mean I don't want to. That ... affects me. I can't go to sleep with you here, like this."

Her head came back up and her eyes went to his groin. She moved the hand that had lain on his stomach just above the book and lifted the obstruction off his rampant prick.

"I can help you with that," she said.

"Cindy!" he groaned.

"What? I can help you. And then you'll be relaxed and won't want to do naughty things with me and everything will be fine."

"You helping me is decidedly naughty," he observed.

"Not as naughty as what that wants to do right now," she said.

"Fuck me," he groaned.

She came up on one elbow.

"I thought you didn't want to do that."

"That's not what I meant," he sighed. "It's just a figure of speech. I'm a little frustrated right now."

"Daddy," she said. "We can't undo what's been done. We can't pretend nothing happened. That is in our lives now. It seems simple to me. If I help you then you won't be all excited anymore and then you can go to sleep. Right?"

"Okay, let's say you're right," he said. "You want to stay here. What happens when I wake up in the middle of the night and get horny again?"

"Then I'll help you again," she said. "But you won't wake up. You sleep like the dead. Whenever I try to get you to get up it takes me ten minutes just to get you to move. You know that."

That was true. Bob wasn't a morning person. Running your own business from home tended to nourish that character trait. It wasn't unusual for Cindy to be long gone to school before he got up and got around.

It was the memory of her soft hand on his cock that tipped the scales. To feel that again would be wonderful. More than wonderful.

And then maybe he really could get to sleep.

Somehow the issue of her staying there faded into the background.

"Okay," he said.

Chapter Three

She wasn't sleepy any longer. She was having too much fun to be ready for slumber. Her hand moved smoothly up and down his rigid shaft while he moaned and groaned, his hips moving constantly. She was fascinated to watch the thick skin that covered his knob stretch and become impossibly thin, moving with her hand to expose the purplish head, with its weeping little eye. It was obvious he loved this and she was the one who was making it happen.

She knew she wasn't going fast enough but it was fun to tease him a little, to get his hips to thrust upwards. She knew what that movement meant, in the context of having sex. His hips had done that when he made love to her mother. Maybe it was even on this very bed! This was the only bed she ever remembered him sleeping in. She'd never known her mother; couldn't remember a single thing about her. But if she had abandoned this lovely stiff thing then she must have been crazy.

"Cindy!" groaned her father. She could hear the mixed frustration and joy in his voice. He'd urged her to speed up several times. She always had, but then went back to a languid, teasing stroke. His reaction to all this was perfect.

"If I speed up you'll make a mess," she said.

"I'm supposed to make a mess," he groaned. "That's the whole point of this!"

"Then I'd have to get up and get a towel and clean up," she complained.

"Cindy!" he barked.

"Oh, okay," she said. "Maybe won't be so messy if I do this."

She scooted up and, after sliding her hand downwards until it impacted his balls gently, opened her mouth and closed it over that purple knob.

She was a little nervous about this, but had already decided to do it. One part of her had to know what it was like. Another part was worried she wouldn't like it. She wanted to like it ... wanted him to like it.

She didn't have time to worry for long. He lifted his head, his eyes wide with incredulity, said, "Oh fuck!" and filled her mouth with something warm and slippery. At the same time his hips lurched and the spurting head slid over her tongue like it was a Slip and Slide, to engage her gag reflex. She jerked her head upwards by instinct and closed her mouth as it slid off of him. That was instinct, too, to avoid drooling what was in her mouth.

Only then did the taste register with her fragmented mind. That taste steadied her, being something strange but not unpleasant in the least. Swallowing was also instinctive and that happened just as another spurt leapt from the tip of his cock. It only went a few inches and plopped down on the skin just above his pubic hair. She had never let go of the grip she had on his shaft and now she aimed the tip at her mouth again and swooped in to get whatever came out next.

Now she sucked repeatedly, like he did when he nursed her nipples. His cry sounded like he was in agony but she knew it was a sweet agony. She'd felt that sweet agony herself, with his finger inside her.

She felt him softening in her hand. That odd taste had dissipated, too, so she gave one final suck as she pulled her lips reluctantly from his member. She paused to pay real attention to the lingering taste in her mouth and decided it tasted like incense smelled. That made no sense, but it was what came to mind.

She looked at the small mess on his abdomen and leaned down to suck and lick it away. That brought the strength of the taste back and let her confirm that, as often as he would allow, she would taste this again.

"Wow," he said, panting heavily. "I didn't expect that!"

"I know," she said, swallowing again. "I didn't tell you I was going to do it because I thought you'd say no."

"I would have," he admitted.

"But you won't from now on," she said, firmly.

She crawled up to resume her place next to him, draping her arm across his chest again. She nuzzled his shoulder, kissing it with soft lips.

"Feel better?" she asked.

"Wow, do I feel better," he sighed. "That was incredible."

"Been a while, huh?" she teased.

"Your mother only did that once. After that she refused to do it again," he said.

"Then she was an idiot," said Cindy. "I'm going to do that again. Lots of times."

"Cindy," he groaned, warning in his voice.

"Think you can go to sleep, now?"

He didn't want to argue. That would ruin the moment and get him tense again.

"Yes," he said.

"I'm glad," she said. "Of course now I won't be able to go to sleep. I'm all horny after doing that."

"Cindy!" he groaned again.

"Come on, Daddy. Just help me a little bit, like I helped you, and we'll both get a good night's rest."

"Crap," he sighed.

It was incredible to watch her reaction as he worked on her. She lay on her back, arms above her, legs spread wide. Her knees bent every so often and her heels dug into the covers as her hips lifted. He had decided to bring her off fast, but she wasn't cooperating. Rubbing his stiff fingers back and forth across her distended clit made her moan, but that's all she did. He added his lips, sucking at her tender nipples and her hands came to cradle the back of his head.

"Yessss. Ohhh, I love that," was all she said.

Finally he gave her what she wanted, sliding his middle finger into her furnace-hot pussy and probing deep. He got another "Yessss," as he felt the puckered mouth of her womb and teased it with the tip of his finger. He could feel the opening and get just half an inch into it but his finger was not long enough to probe more deeply than that.

With his finger still deep inside her he pulled, crushing her clit with the pad of his hand where the palm met his fingers. He moved that pad up and down, causing his finger to pull out and probe again, over and over until she went off with a scream of ecstasy.

"Oh yes, yes, yes ... Daddy oh yes, ohhhh yesssssssss," she panted.

Then she went limp and he knew it was time to stop. Pulling his finger from her he rubbed her pussy lips gently, circling his fingers a few times.

"Better?" he asked.

"I love you," she panted.

"I know," he said.

He let her catch her breath, during which she rolled to re-establish her embrace with him, breathing hotly into his shoulder.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Any time," he said, without thinking first.

"I'll hold you to that," she said, before he could take it back.

"Crap," he sighed.

Then he just held her until they both drifted off to sleep.

True to form he did not wake up during the night. Cindy did, because she was cold. She knew it was fruitless to try to get him to wake up enough to move off the covers so she could pull them down and then back over them, so she just got up and got a blanket from the closet.

Then, after covering them both, she fell back to sleep.

Her last conscious thought was that she intended for this to become the norm.

From now on she was sleeping in Daddy's bed.

The next morning, when Bob woke up, Cindy was gone, already in first period at school. He looked around the room, which looked as normal as pie. Even his naked, now flaccid penis looked normal.

But he knew it had been in Cindy's mouth. It had been obvious she not only didn't mind, but relished the act. He could still remember her writhing body as he pleasured her. The memory of her happy gurgles brought some stiffness to his cock.

He tried to distract himself with work, but was only partially successful.

It was clear she intended to continue this illicit relationship. He knew his daughter. When she set her mind on something, she was immovable.

That left him with the question of what he was going to do.

He was four hours into work when he came to the realization there wasn't anything he could do. Sure, there were options, such as sending her away, but that would destroy the family. He couldn't do that. Nor were there any other choices he thought of that would halt - or even curtail - her amorous intentions; no things he could pursue without breaking the two of them apart and doing lasting damage to her psyche. His, too, for that matter.

But would letting her continue also damage her? He wasn't worried about himself. He loved her and, even if that love had become unconventional ... taboo ... he knew he would always love her, no matter what happened.

In his mind he went over all that had happened, seeking any information, any evidence that she had suffered in any way from what they had done. He couldn't think of a single thing. She hadn't been sullen or moody. She hadn't spent more time away from home than usual. She had sought out his bed the night before. It was obvious she'd gotten up during the night to get the blanket, but she hadn't gone back to her own bed. She had wanted to sleep with him. Not in the conventional understanding of 'sleeping with', of course, but still...

He tried to feel guilt for drawing attention to his boner while her stated intention was just to stay there and cuddle a little bit. She obviously hadn't minded. And she stayed there after her own orgasm, when she could easily have gone back to her own bed.

He hadn't molested her. He didn't care what definition one used, he couldn't detect any meaningful violation of her trust or innocence. It never occurred to him that the way he'd raised her might have led to this, or that a criminal psychologist might call it an extended period of grooming. Even if someone had suggested that, he'd have laughed. He never intended to have sex with his daughter. He hadn't sought out that first time. He hadn't been trying to do anything sexual with her at all after prom.

He'd merely been suspicious ... seeking evidence of her betrayal of their family values.

He couldn't actually remember the details of how they ended up in bed, naked, with his finger in her vagina. It seemed like a misty dream.

Last night, on the other hand, he remembered with crystal clarity.

As he thought about that he realized he was rock hard in his pants.

He was plugging in the new power supply he'd installed in a desktop computer when he heard the door slam and Cindy's voice ring out.

"I'm home!" she yelled.

"Shop," he yelled back.

She appeared in the door to his workshop and leaned against the door-jamb. She looked so beautiful he had to swallow before he could speak.

"How was school?"

"Boring."

"Necessary," he said.

"I know. I wish you would home school me like your parents did for you."

"You'd miss all your friends," he pointed out.

"True. But I'd be able to spend more time with you."

"Considering last night, that might not be the best course of action," he said.

"Pooh," she said. "I'm starving. I'm going to fix a snack. You want anything?"

What he wanted right now was for her to be naked, sitting on his lap, facing him, with his cock firmly in her pussy.

"I'm good," he said, trying to think of something else.

"Yes ... you are," she said with an impish grin. "I slept like a log last night."

He didn't rise to the bait. Instead he peered into the innards of the computer and pretended to be busy.

At supper she said, in a completely normal voice, "Josh broke up with me today."

"I'm sorry," he said.

"He said we were getting too serious."

"It's more likely he got tired of you shutting him down," said Bob.

"No, I don't think so. He's a good guy. He never complained about how I felt about fooling around. I think prom made him want more than he was used to wanting and it scared him."

"Well, keep in touch with him, then," said Bob. "When you're older that's the kind of man you want to form a lasting relationship with. You want a man who cares about you."

"I already have one of those," said Cindy, staring at him.

"Not me, silly," he said. "I mean the man you're going to have babies with." He blinked. "Assuming you want children. It's okay if you don't."

"Oh, I do," she said. "Not right now, of course. That's one reason I'm not unhappy with Josh."

"I don't understand," said Bob.

"He wasn't the only one who felt the urge to go farther than was comfortable for both of us," she said. "That's why I was so horny when you removed my diaphragm."

"Oh," he said. "Great." His last word was said in a sarcastic tone.

"Daddy, you don't have to worry about me. I understand how seductive sex is. I'm not going to get into a situation like that with any boy I haven't already decided to sleep with."

"You don't need to be thinking about sleeping with anybody," said Bob, firmly.

"Except you," she said, sweetly.

"About that," he said.

"There's nothing to talk about," she interrupted. "I liked it very much and I'm going to keep doing it."

"Sweetheart, that's a really bad idea," he groaned.

"No it isn't. Last night was perfect. I made you happy and then you made me happy. And it didn't take all that long! I see no problem with handling things that way."

"One of these nights I might actually wake up," he warned.

"Well, then, we'll deal with that eventuality when it happens," she said.

They were watching a movie, Meet Joe Black. Bob had seen it several times and, while it was on his list of top movies, he was tired.

"I'm going to bed," he said.

"You go ahead," she said, her eyes on the screen. "I want to finish this. I'll be there later."

He tried to go to sleep so he'd be in that condition when she came to his bed. It didn't work. He opted for another "safety" measure and picked up his book to try to read. Forty-five minutes later she appeared in his doorway, again naked.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked.

"Reading?"

"You never sleep in your shorts," she pointed out.

"I thought I would tonight," he said.

"Wrong!" she growled. "Take them off!"

"You're not the boss of me," he chanted.

"Daddy!"

"Give me a break," he groaned. "We shouldn't be sleeping together anyway, much less naked."

"If you don't take those off this instant I'm going to let the next boy who asks me out take my virginity!" she snapped.

"Bring out the big guns, why don't you?" groused Bob, as he pushed his jockey's down and kicked them off on the floor.

"That's better," she said. "You're not hard," she noted.

"I'm not perpetually erect," he replied.

She stood, bending her elbows and moving her hands like a model on TV showing off some prize. This drew attention to her naked glory.

"You want your old man to get horny every time he sees you?" he groaned.

"Maybe I do," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "Maybe it makes me feel good ... pretty."

"You passed pretty years ago," said Bob. "I believe you're in the drop-dead gorgeous category these days."

"That's even better," she said. "Tonight we pull the covers back so I don't have to get up in the middle of the night and fumble around for a blanket."

"You sure are bossy," he said, grinning.

"Are you calling me a cow?" Her eyebrows rose.

"Bossy the cow? I forgot all about her. I haven't read you that story in decades."

"'Decades' means more than one," said Cindy, walking toward the bed. "That would be hard, considering I'm only sixteen. One decade, maybe, but not two or more."

"Aren't you a little smarty pants tonight," teased her father.

"That would be difficult. I don't have on any pants," she teased back. "Because I'm ready for bed, and in this house there are no pants in bed."

With that she jumped on the bed, landing on her knees and bouncing to land on top of her father. She tried to tickle him, but squealed when he tickled back. In the process she ended rubbing her pussy lips all over his not-so-limp penis, which started to erect the second she landed on him.

In the end she scooted up to kiss him, a long, passionate kiss in which tongues were involved. When that broke, she raised her head enough to look in his eyes.

"I love you," she said, softly.

"I love you too," he said. "If you don't get off of me, though, I'm going to end up loving you too much."

"Why?" she asked, frowning.

He moved his hands to her waist and pushed her down. The tip of his now fully erect prick nudged between her slippery pussy lips.

"Because it would be really easy now to keep pushing," he said.

"Oh!" she yipped, softly. She blinked. "That feels ... different."

"I would hope so," he said, pulling her back up.

Her own hands went to the bed and pushed her back down, just enough to repeat the almost invasion of her untried channel.

"No, I mean all I've ever had in me is a finger, either yours or mine. That makes things spread way far apart. I can feel it."

"Feel any more and you won't be a virgin anymore," said Bob, his grip on her waist tightening. "You won't be able to run out in a huff and throw it away on some pimply-faced kid."

"I didn't mean that," she said.

He felt her trying to move down. He countered by pulling on her waist.

"I thought we weren't going to do this," he said.

"We're not. It just feels ... interesting. I'm not trying to get it in me."

"Well what are you trying to do?"

"I don't know ... just feel it, I guess."

"Let's feel something less dangerous," he suggested.

She stopped trying to push down and did a pushup with her arms instead.

"Okay!" she said, animatedly.

She crawled down and engulfed him in her mouth, sucking strongly this time. She stopped long enough to look up at him.

"I love doing this," she said.

Then she went back to it. It was obvious she was sucking him in a way that was fun, rather than trying to get him to spurt. She was teasing him again. But this time he was prepared for it, so he just lay back and enjoyed the crap out of it.

Her intent became clear when she finally pulled off him again.

"I'm ready," she said.

"Ready for what?" he teased.

"Ready to taste you," she said. "Are you ready?"

"I've been ready all day," he sighed.

"Awww."

She went back to work, this time sucking only the knob and moving her hand up and down on his shaft. If he hadn't known better, he'd have thought she had a lot of practice at this. But he knew she was just a very quick learner, who remembered what he'd told her about making this happen. Within another two or three minutes he warned her.

She stayed firmly on him and this time, when his hips lurched, she went with the flow, sucking and swallowing without taking her mouth off of him. She went a bit too long and he got sensitive. He reached to touch her head and she lifted it, smacking her lips and smiling.

"I really like doing that," she sighed. "But it got me major horny. My turn?"

The decision he made happened in a split second. He hadn't thought about going down on her, but he took her request literally. If he'd have thought about it for a few seconds his intentions might have moderated, but she flopped down on her back, wide open, ready for her treasure to be plundered by his fingers.

He plundered it with his tongue, instead.

Her reaction was comical. At first she didn't realize what he was going to do. When she did, he saw the blood drain from her face. She yipped, "No! You can't do that!" but by then it was too late and his lips were already welded to her lower ones. She went stiff and her legs tried to close, running into his shoulders.

"Daddeeeeeeee," she squealed.

Then the tone of her squeal changed as his tongue found her clit and teased it before his lips tried to crush it in a velvet vise. Her tone went from shocked to surprised, and then morphed into a delighted whine as what he was doing finally made it to her brain. Her legs flew back open and then closed to go over his back as her abs tried to pull her butt off the bed.

He slurped happily and pushed his tongue as far into her channel as he could get it. He replaced that with two fingers, fucking her gently with them while he went back to work on her clit.

He winced at the volume of her scream when she popped. Her fists beat the bed covers and she twisted so strongly he had to reach up and put his arms over her abdomen to be able to keep his lip lock on her happy button. When she finally went limp, mewling with pleasure, he backed off her button and used the flat of his tongue to comb her pussy lips.

"That was intense!" she gasped, panting deeply.

He didn't respond. He just kept licking.

Again she was satisfied and drifted off to sleep in his arms. He was mildly stiff after giving her oral pleasure, but it wasn't an urgent sense of lust. He didn't disentangle himself from her to go masturbate. It was too comfortable in her warm embrace.

As things turned out, he probably should have gotten up to jerk off. Then again, it's hard to tell. He stayed stiff as he went to sleep, but he might have gotten that way later anyway.

What ensued wasn't intentional. In fact, an argument might be made that it couldn't even have been anticipated. Bob was a heavy sleeper and once asleep he didn't move around much. To be honest, he probably stayed stiff only because he began to dream quickly. Cindy, on the other hand, moved around a lot. She didn't wake up while she did this, but it wasn't unusual for her to roll over and move her arms and legs around several times during the night.

Wrapped up in his arms, though, her range of motion was restricted. As a result, her legs did most of the moving that night. Several times, with her chest pressed against his, her left leg raised and draped itself across his leg, or thigh or hip. These movements didn't waken either of them. But this process opened up her sexual core, leaving it defenseless when, at one point, her movements brought her slightly parted pussy lips in contact with the tip of his still hard penis.

There was no penetration at first, just a sort of nestling of the tip between her still-flushed labia. Perhaps some subliminal instinct caused her, sometime later, to wiggle in his arms. Maybe she was adjusting weight on the arm under his neck. For whatever reason she moved downward an inch and her sex slowly enveloped the glans of his penis, pushing the foreskin down. His knob stretched her slowly, more or less easing into her, but she was still stretched. Perhaps that discomfort, registering somewhere in her slumbering brain, demanded some adjustment to ease that tension and she wiggled again, moving down enough that her tight opening slid into the dip between the head of his penis and the shaft.

That stretched her less and was more comfortable, the stretching being eased just enough to satisfy her unconscious brain.

As the night went on, she wiggled more, lifting and lowering her leg and, very slowly, she inched her way farther onto his cock.

When she woke up, it was from a very nice dream. She knew that much, but couldn't remember why it was nice. Then her foggy mind recognized something was wrong. It wasn't his body against hers. She expected that ... wanted that. Slowly her mind did inventory, trying to go back to sleep but wanting to identify what was ... different. She realized she was ... horny.

Her eyes popped open in the dark as she felt the unfamiliar pressure inside her sexual channel. Confused, she lifted her head. Her leg was draped over his thigh. She pulled it off of him and let it fall on top of her other leg, only to feel the pressure increase.

In the instant of understanding she moved, and gobbled up another inch of her father's penis. She gasped and froze, trying to understand and evaluate what was happening.

It felt ... good!

Her mind was too muddled with sleep to concentrate on the fact that she was no longer a virgin, or to try to determine how this had happened. It just reacted to the pleasure and made her wiggle again, lifting her leg and hooking her heel behind his calf to use it to help her pull herself even farther onto his prod. Her clit was scraped in the process and she moaned softly.

"Daddy?" she whispered. "Daddy!"

He didn't move. His slow breath told her he was asleep.

"Daddy!" she said, poking him with one finger. "You're in me, Daddy!"

It occurred to her to just move upward. Her arm under his neck even gave her a purchase to help her do so. Doing that caused the four inches of cock in her pussy to slowly scrape her sensitive flesh. Maybe her G-spot got involved. Whatever the reason, the act of trying to get off of this thing poking up into her belly only made the pleasure even greater and, with a sigh, she instinctively reversed her direction of movement, pulling herself back onto him.

"Daddy!" she hissed. "Daddy, you have to wake up!"

He didn't.

She was now awake enough to think about things more rationally. She knew she could practically roll him out of bed and he might not wake up completely. It took him forever to become fully aware of his surroundings in the morning. She didn't really need for him to wake up. She knew she could get off of the thing sticking in her.

The problem was ... she didn't want to.

Bob had been having a stream of dreams, was in the middle of one, in fact. Like hers, it was a very nice dream. He was lying on the sand by the ocean with Valerie, his wife. She had come out of the surf wearing a little black bikini he didn't even know she owned. It showed off her body beautifully. Then, apparently because they were on a nude beach, she popped the catch on the bra and pulled at the ties on the hips of the panty and bared her beautiful body to the whole world. That led to the inevitable erection he was now prodding her with as they necked on the sand.

His hips gave a thrust, to get farther into her.

Cindy gasped as she was suddenly filled completely with hard daddy-prick. It went deep, his hips freezing for a few seconds, and then he relaxed, letting his cock return to where it had been. He flexed again and murmured in his sleep.

"Daddy," she moaned. "You're fucking me, Daddy."

She was not unhappy about this in the slightest, however, and hoped he would do it again.

In his dream Valerie was telling him she wanted to be on top. That was her favorite position. She liked to take charge during sex, demanding that he do this or that, or that they engage in this position or another that she liked. He had never cared. It was just glorious to be in her. It was easy to hug her body and roll with her, pulling her up so she could do what she liked.

Cindy gasped again as his arms tightened around her and, as if she weighed nothing, rolled to pull her on top of him. The covers caught on her shoulder and hip and she felt them being pulled away from the edge of the bed. Her father's hands came to land on her hips and, as in his dream, he helped his lover impale herself fully on his bone.

It had been instinct for Cindy to put her hands on the bed and push her upper torso up. That instinct, plus his hands, resulted in her untried pussy being stuffed to the maximum, her clit crushed and her cervix abused by the tip of his penis.

It was her groan that woke Bob up. As deep and hard a sleeper as he might be, some evolutionary need to react to the distress calls of his young penetrated his brain and he lifted his head.

"What?" came his scratchy voice. It took him a second but then he remembered why he woke up. "Cindy?"

"Ohhh Daddy," came her voice in what sounded almost like a sob.

"What's wrong?" he asked, lifting his head. He was confused, not fully awake.

Then he felt the furnace-hot vice surrounding his penis. His first thought was Valerie, no doubt from his disturbed dream. But he knew Valerie was gone. The only other person it could be burst in his mind like fireworks.

"Cindy!" he gasped.

"Daddy!" she groaned.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know. I woke up and it was in me. Then you rolled over and all of a sudden it was all the way in me."

"Well get off!"

"Okay." She leaned forward and started to pull off of him. Her clit loved that movement. "Mmmm. Do I have to?"

"What? Of course you have to!"

His hands, still on her hips, slid up her sides and he pulled. There was a wet, squelching sound followed by a soft *pop* as the vacuum created by his withdrawing prick was broken. Her arms went limp and she fell onto his chest, breathing hard.

He reached for the lamp on the nightstand and turned it on. Both of them squinted against the sudden brightness. He rolled her back toward her original position and got up on one elbow, looking down. The covers were in the way and he pulled them downward with a jerk. His prick looked shiny.

"How did that happen?" he asked, his voice high.

"I don't know," she said, her voice several years younger than she was. "I woke up and it was in me ... not all the way, but in me. Then you rolled me on top of you and I tried to sit up and it went way up inside me. Then you woke up. That's all I know."

"I was in you?"

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I think so. It hurt at first, but not for very long. By the time you told me to get off it didn't hurt anymore."

"You're not a virgin anymore?" He blinked.

"I don't think so," she said.

"How did this happen?" he groaned.

"Daddy, I told you, I woke up and -"

"I know that," he snapped. He frowned. "I was dreaming about your mother. We were on a beach and I was ..."

"Fucking her?"

"Making love," he said automatically. "It's not fucking. We were making love. She liked to be on top."

"You pulled me on top of you," said Cindy.

"I did that in my dream," he said. His frown deepened. "I told you sleeping together was a bad idea!"

"Daddy, I'm fine. You didn't hurt me, not really. I just felt too full. I'm okay."

"Cindy, I fucked you in my sleep!" he barked.

"You made love to me in your sleep," she corrected him.

Her impudence brought him out of his funk.

"I'm sorry, Baby," he said. "I was afraid something like this might happen. I should have made you go to your own room."

"I wouldn't have," she said. "I'm not freaked out, Daddy. I'm not even sorry. It was getting really nice when you made me get off."

"We talked about this," he groaned. "That's crossing the line. We can't do that."

"That's a line that's already been crossed," she said, pragmatically. "Whether it was intentional or not is immaterial. The sky didn't fall. I'm not unhappy. I don't think you should be, either. It was an accident. Besides, now I know what it feels like so I don't have to be curious anymore."

"You were curious? About that?"

"Of course I was. Every girl knows it will happen to her some day. She can't help but wonder what it will feel like."

"But not curious about what it would feel like with ... me," he said, trying to reassure himself.

She pulled him back down beside her.

"I've never been curious about a particular man, Daddy. Turn the light off. I have school in ..." She raised her head and looked over his chest at the clock beside the lamp, "... four hours. I need to sleep."

"You should go to your own room," he said.

"I'm comfortable here," she said firmly.

He wanted to argue but he knew it wouldn't do any good. All it would do was wake them up more thoroughly. He reached and the room went dark again. He felt her turn to face his side, laying her arm across his chest. She kissed his shoulder.

"It could happen again, Cindy," he said, trying one last time.

"If it happens again, don't make me get off this time," came her muffled voice.

Chapter Four

Bob woke to find her gone. He was confused. How could something like that have happened and he not wake up until it was too late?

He lay there thinking about it. He had fucked his daughter! A smile formed on his lips unbidden as he remembered her correcting him. Okay. He had made love to his daughter. Sort of. But in his dream it had been his wife. If she was still here this never would have happened. She had failed him again and she'd been gone more than fourteen years when she did it!

But Cindy wasn't gone. She hadn't screamed and run away. If anything she had accepted what happened with astonishing aplomb. He thought it was ironic that his daughter was more loyal to him than his wife had been.

He threw the covers off and sat up. That was when he found the note she'd left him. It said: "I love you" with a smiley face drawn under that. With just a few words she'd let him know everything was fine.

He had morning wood, the iron hard kind. He wondered if his daughter had looked at it when she got up. Had she done more than look? The way he slept he'd never have known.

He sat on the pot rather than trying to aim with an unbendable appendage. When he was finished it stayed hard. He looked at it. That had been inside Cindy last night!

He remembered her final words to him before they went back to sleep.

Suddenly he was jacking his cock, imagining them waking up again and not stopping this time.

He tried to aim in the commode, but ended up wiping his semen up off the rim of the bowl and the floor with a wad of toilet paper.

He hadn't cum that hard in years.

Bob stared at the little piece of paper on his desk. It had come from a small pad they used to establish a grocery list. As they used something up, or thought of something they needed to get, it was added to the list. Then it was torn off on shopping day and a new one started. For her to write that note meant she was thinking about him after she'd gotten up and was probably eating breakfast.

She'd had plenty of time to decide too much had happened, that things had gone too far. Obviously she hadn't felt that way, and she'd taken the time to let him know in a simple way. That note had let him work for most of the day. He glanced at it frequently and it calmed him.

At three in the afternoon he was taking a break, sipping a cup of coffee, staring at the note when the realization that had been niggling at his subconscious mind finally rose to the surface.

He was going to fuck his daughter. He winced, because that four letter word kept reverberating in his mind. That's what anyone else would call it. People would say, "Can you believe it? He fucked his own daughter!" Those people wouldn't call it making love. They'd call it fucking. The word blinked in his mind like a neon light, turning on and off.

But it would happen, sooner or later. Probably sooner. She hadn't complained. Not only that, she'd suggested she'd welcomed another "accident." She'd written that note after waking up and, no doubt, thinking about how she was no longer a virgin. She'd lost her virginity and it had been under conditions nobody would call 'normal'. And yet, she'd written him a little love note. This wasn't a daughter telling her dad she loved him like millions of girls said it on a daily basis. This was from a woman to the man who had taken her virginity. And the smiley face indicated she wasn't upset about it at all.

So it would happen again, and this time it wouldn't be while they were unconscious, having dreams. It would be intentional. Both of them would be fully aware of what was happening. In fact ... it would quite likely happen more than once.

He had a little daydream wherein Cindy basically took the place of his absent wife. In this fantasy he came up behind her while she was doing something in the kitchen and slid his hands around her body, intending to lift them to cup her breasts.

His hands ran into a swollen belly and he actually jerked, in reality, opening his eyes.

He was mildly astonished that he'd accepted this situation without actually thinking about it. Some part of his mind that was still sane had reminded him - pointedly - that there were consequences to going down this path. She wasn't on the pill and he hadn't had a condom in the house in over a decade.

He frowned, trying to remember when his conscious mind had abandoned sanity and accepted the fact that it was inevitable that he was going to commit incest with his daughter. He knew it would happen. He could feel it in his bones. The slippery slope they had hopped onto was wide and long and he couldn't see any way of them stopping unless he sent her away. It would kill him to do that. That was even more unthinkable than having sex with her.

His thought process was interrupted by Cindy coming through the door. Her "I'm home!" went into his ears and somehow, filled his penis with blood. He glanced at his watch. He'd been just sitting there thinking about things for over an hour.

She appeared in his office door.

"Hi," she said, leaning against the jamb. She looked so gorgeous it made him weak.

Usually she went to her room, changed clothes (or just took them off) and did her homework. On this day she came into the room, pulled his desk chair away from the desk and turned him to face her. She was wearing a skirt, which allowed her to straddle his thighs and sit down, facing him.

Instead of saying anything, she leaned toward him and bestowed on him a smoking-hot kiss that made it perfectly clear she thought of him as her lover, rather than her father. Somehow his hands came up to grip her breasts, squeezing them gently.

When she pulled back he gave it his last gasp.

"If we keep doing this I'm going to end up fucking you."

She didn't correct him this time.

"I know." Her voice made it sound careless, as if he'd said, "You have to go to school tomorrow."

Then she kissed him again, this time with not quite as much passion. When that kiss broke she licked his lips with the tip of her tongue and leaned back.

"But I have to do homework first. And supper. After that we'll see what happens."

He was dumbstruck, and his reply was automatic.

"Okay."

Bob's mind continued to whirl as Cindy's behavior continued to be as unremarkable and normal as it had ever been. She didn't tease him, or make any further reference to what it sounded like she intended to happen later. During supper she talked about school, and some of her friends. She notified her father of upcoming events and asked him if she could host a sleepover two weeks hence. The only anomaly was that she asked about his current projects, something she had never taken interest in before. Had he been in full control of his mental abilities, that would have been the only evidence detectable that she was nervous.

But he wasn't thinking straight. His mind was filled with images of what might potentially take place in a short time. Some of them were ridiculous, such as the one in which she appeared in lingerie of the type sold by Fredericks of Hollywood. That was silly, since she didn't own anything like that. But his mind was rattled, at war with itself, and he couldn't concentrate on any particular plan of action because such things kept popping into his head. At one point he would think about "just saying no" and the next thing he thought of was an image of what he would be saying "no" to. That might involve a view of them from outside his body, looking down as his bulk covered hers, his hips thrusting rapidly while her hands smoothed over his back and her voice whined, "Oh, faster, Daddy, I'm almost there."

The irony of all this was that Cindy was much calmer. She did, in fact, plan on feeling that pressure in her vagina again, later. Her nervousness wasn't about going that far. It was about the fact that she couldn't remember as much about "losing her virginity" as she wished she could. It had happened quickly. Her memories were of feeling very good, though, and that was what motivated her to do that again, on a more intentional level.

Another difference between them was that while Bob's reservations were rooted in culture and societal conventions, Cindy didn't care about them. Like many teenagers she thought that what she wanted was her business and nobody else's. In her opinion, what happened in the privacy of their own home was just that - private.

A third difference involved the complicated contrast between how men and women approach intimacy. Men have quick triggers and are ready, literally within seconds, to mate. Women like to build up to the event, letting their passion heat up over time. They anticipate things and that is part of the pleasure. It's a little like the difference between those people who enjoy looking at the present under the Christmas tree and those who can't wait to open it.

In Bob's case, her calm pronouncement that something very intimate would happen later gave him an erection. It vacillated between being hard and then flagging a bit, and then becoming firm again, as his mind kept bouncing from pro to con.

In Cindy's case, the anticipation had her pussy wet by supper time and, by the time she suggested they watch a movie she wanted to masturbate.

The only stick in the spokes to her plan was that when supper was finished, and the dishes done, it was only seven o'clock, too early to go to bed. For a married couple that wouldn't have been an issue. A wife might say, "I feel frisky. Want to get lucky?" and her husband would say, "I was hoping you'd say that."

But this wasn't a married couple. They weren't "living together" in a common law type union, either. They were, primarily, father and daughter ... not lovers.

The fact that Cindy had proclaimed her intent, or at least acceptance of them becoming lovers was the elephant in the room.

"You want to watch TV?" asked Bob, whose fantasies had supplied at least a dozen other possible scenarios for her to suggest.

"I guess," she said. "Would you rather do something else?"

Bob's brain got close to overload as the possibilities bombarded him and his conscience berated him at the same time.

"TV is fine," he said, weakly.

Cindy turned on the TV and Roku, booting Netflix. She scrolled through the offerings, looking for a romantic comedy. Her eye was caught by The Princess Bride, which she had loved as a little girl and she highlighted that.

"Is this okay?" she asked, turning to look at her father, who had sat down on the double recliner he usually sat in. "I know you've seen it a dozen times, but I'd like to watch it again."

"Fine," said Bob, who didn't think he'd pay attention to anything they watched.

She started it and then came to remove the miscellaneous papers, pillows, computer mouse, and other things Bob normally kept on the other side of the recliner. She placed them in a neat pile on the floor and then sat down next to her father. His leg rest was up, so she pulled hers up, too. Then she leaned against him, lifting his arm to put it around her.

"Cindy," said Bob, a little breathless.

"We can talk later," she said. "The movie is starting."

"This is later," he said.

She looked up at him.

"Do you want to go to bed right now?"

"No!" he gasped.

"Then be quiet and watch the movie," she said.

Bob was actually feeling a little better. The movie had distracted him enough to let his mind calm. Cindy hadn't acted like a temptress or even indicated she was thinking about things sexual at all. She hadn't touched him in any patently sexual way or sought his touch in that manner. His cock was finally soft again. Currently his hand was touching her upper arm and she was simply snuggling with him. It was the kind of thing that had happened hundreds of times and it helped him feel like things were normal.

Then the movie was over and, without warning, she turned and lay across his body, facing him. Her arms went around his neck and she pulled up for a kiss. It happened quickly enough that Bob wasn't prepared for it and, when her lips came into contact with his, all the biological urges he'd been battling with came to the fore and he kissed her back.

Oddly, that kiss calmed him even more. Her lips communicated a complete acceptance of the new component in their relationship. It was a lover's kiss and she was proclaiming herself as his lover.

It was her willingness to pursue this, her lack of nervousness about being a lover, that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

He pulled his lips from hers and looked in her eyes.

"If we do this there is no turning back," he said.

"I know," she said, simply. "But it's that way with everything. No matter what we do in life, it can't be undone."

"This is a serious thing," he said.

"I know that, too. And I know it's socially unacceptable, and that if anybody ever finds out that bad things would happen. I've thought about all of this, Daddy. I know it's serious, but it would be serious no matter who I chose to do this with. I love you. I want to be as close as possible to you. And I can't think of anything that's closer than making love."

"I can't believe this," he sighed.

"Well it's true," she said.

"That's not what I meant. What I meant is that I never intended for anything like this to happen."

"I didn't either. It just did."

"So ... what now?" he asked.

"I think it's bedtime," she said.

"Shit," he groaned.

"Am I so ugly?" She pulled back.

"Of course not. You're gorgeous. You're sexy. Part of me wants to jump your bones right now. But another part of me keeps yelling that this isn't a good idea. I don't want to do anything that could hurt you, or us."

"The only way anything could hurt us is if anybody else finds out about it," she said. "I'm certainly not going to tell anybody."

"I wouldn't either," he said. "I'm a dad. I worry. It's part of being a father."

"I get that," she said. "It's sweet. But it doesn't change how I feel."

"Can't I just do what we've already done? Hasn't that satisfied you before?"

"Yes," she said. "I love that." She was quiet for a little bit, and then went on. "Do you remember all those times you warned me about how there's a natural progression to all this, and that I needed to be careful what I let boys do?"

"Of course," he said.

"I think I understand that now ... really understand it. I've never let a boy do what I've let you do. I've never wanted to let a boy do what I want you to do. And I think you know that sooner or later more is going to happen between us. But you're not some boy I decided to go on a date with. You're my daddy and I love you more than anybody else in the whole world. I want to do this ... but only with you."

"I don't know if I can do this, Cindy," he moaned.

"Well, can you do what I ask you to do? What if all you do is what I tell you to do? Would that work?"

"I honestly don't know," he said.

"Well, we have to go to bed anyway," she said. "Let's do that and find out."

While he had reservations in his mind, his body betrayed those by being fully ready to perform as soon as she pulled his sweat pants down.

"It's so beautiful," she sighed, reaching to stroke it gently. "So hard and silky feeling."

"The reason it's hard is why I'm worried," he said.

She looked up at his face. "It makes me feel good that it gets hard for me."

She stood and removed his T shirt. Then she got naked herself.

"I'm wet," she said, reaching to tease her clit with one finger.

"You're killing me, here," he groaned.

"I don't want to kill you. Lie down on the bed. Pull the covers back first."

She was taking her suggestion that he "do what she told him to" seriously. Perhaps she had some of her mother in her after all. He wanted to smile at her forcefulness, but didn't. This was serious business. He knew what she wanted, now. It was crystal clear. He knew he shouldn't allow it to happen, but he also knew his daughter well enough to know that things would become very tense if he put his foot down. Some part of his mind snickered and said, "You're just trying to rationalize the fact that you want this as much as she does."

And that was the problem. He did want this as much as she apparently did. Still, the only way he felt this could work was if he did, indeed, do only what she instructed him to do.

So he pulled the covers back and lay down, his erection jutting obscenely from his groin, eager to see how she would use it.

As it turned out, to Bob's surprise, all she wanted for the first thirty minutes was what they had already done before. He found out in that amazingly long half hour (his prick was eager to get to the finish line) exactly how she loved to be touched by his hands, fingers, lips, and chest. He had stroked her body in many ways, but she had never told him which ways she liked the best. Now she gave him a primer on how to turn Cindy on to the max.

In the process, she turned him on to the max, too, and all his arguments against doing what she wanted faded into a background of white noise in his mind.

He was in the process of nursing at her turgid nipples while he fingerfucked her with a hooked finger, scraping the tip of that finger over her G-spot when she told him to stop.

"I don't want to cum yet," she panted. "I want to save that for later."

"Sweetheart," he said, smiling at her. "You can cum now and then cum again, later. You know that."

"I know, but I want this time to be special ... I want to cum in a way I've never cum before."

He pulled his finger out of her clasping pussy.

"You're the boss," he said, smiling.

"Lick me," she ordered.

Some perverse streak in him made him try to give her an orgasm with his lips, sucking and chewing on her clit. He got her close, and then she pushed his head away.

"Get up and rub the tip of your beautiful penis against me," she gasped.

That perverse streak continued to try to cause trouble.

He got on his knees, gripped his rock hard prick, and rubbed the tip against the soft skin of her inner left thigh.

"Here?" he teased.

"Daddy!" she panted, somehow scolding him with just one word.

He moved it to the other thigh.

"Here?" He grinned.

"You know where I want it!" she barked.

He moved it to tease the soft hair growing just above her clit, sliding it across her mons.

"Here!" he said, as if he'd just guessed the right place.

"Don't make me spank you!" she said, joining the game. "Do it right!"

He stopped teasing, at least in the way he'd been teasing. He dipped the tip to run a circle around her distended clit, watching her flushed pussy lips move this way and that.

"Here?" he asked, as if he wasn't sure he was right this time.

"Better," she moaned. "Much better. Now ... put it in ... just a little bit."

He moved the tip downward, swabbing it between swampy labia.

"You mean here?" He pushed just enough to spread her lips apart and nose into her birth canal.

"Of course there," she panted. "Daddy, you promised. Now do what I tell you to!"

He resisted groaning as he pushed and her pussy seemed to jump up and swallow the head. He could feel her tight opening pushing his foreskin back. It was all he could do to stop from continuing to plunder her untried pussy. He wanted to feel that pressure all over his cock.

He felt pain begin to form from the lactic acid in the muscles of his back. Holding this position strained those muscles.

"A little more," she panted. "Just a little," she warned.

Moving eased the pain, but "just a little" to her was a quantity his penis didn't really understand. About three inches sank into her buttery depths.

"Ohhhh," she moaned. Her hips seemed to try to get away from the invader, moving her butt against the mattress, but then came back up. He had remained still, knowing he'd gone deeper than "just a little" and the effect was that she fucked herself with an inch or two of his cock.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Feels better now," she panted. "A little more."

"Can I try something?" he asked.

"Okay," she said, trusting him completely.

He pulled almost out, at which time her head came up.

"Don't!" she panted.

"I'm not taking it out," he said.

"You better not," she warned.

He reached to grip his cock, leaving only two inches exposed. Then he pushed forward again, pushing that much back into her. His hand moderated how much she got. It also impacted her clit. Her head went back down.

"Ohhhh, yeah," she sighed. "I like that. I like that a lot."

He fucked her with that much until her hips got into the act again and then removed his hand.

"I'm going to go a little deeper now," he said.

"Okay," she panted.

This time, when he pushed, he didn't stop until his pubic bone crushed her clit.

"Ohhhh fuck," she groaned.

"You okay?" he asked again, grinding against her clit. He could feel the tip of his cock abusing her cervix.

"Oh, don't you ever stop!" she gasped.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said.

He pulled out and went back in, firmly. He did that three more times and then stayed in, rubbing her clit again.

She babbled. Her hands alternated from gripping his shoulders, to digging into his waist, pulling and pushing with his motions, to leaving fingernail prints on his ass when he stayed deep and rubbed her. Her hips didn't seem to know what to do and eventually he had to weigh her down. Then he pulled, crushing her whole body as he moved upwards and then back down. He used his legs to capture hers and close them, tightening her sheath on him even more. That pressure, plus the fact that now her clit was being rubbed constantly, set her off and she screamed.

In the middle of that scream, while her pussy rippled around him during its first orgasm with a penis in it, pulled his nectar from his balls like an electromagnet would pull a nail from the ground. He couldn't help it. He had to cum.

And cum he did, deep inside the belly of his sixteen-year-old lover.

That she happened to also be his daughter didn't seem to matter ... until his balls were empty of their incestuous sperm ... and he fully realized what he'd just done.

"I shouldn't have cum in you," he said.

They were lying in a loose embrace. Both were a little sweaty, but didn't seem to mind.

"I wanted to feel it all," she said.

"Cindy, what if I made you pregnant?"

"You didn't. This is during my safe time."

"There is no safe time, Cindy. A woman can get pregnant at any time during her cycle."

"A woman can only get pregnant when there is an egg that the sperm can reach," she said. "My periods are as regular as clockwork. I won't ovulate for at least another week."

"Famous last words," said Bob.

"Don't spoil this, Daddy," said his daughter. "This is the best night of my whole life."

He felt a rush of love and kissed her forehead.

"Next time I'll put in my diaphragm, okay?" she said.

Her casual affirmation that there would be a next time caused his groin to tighten. That urge was useless. He felt like he'd shot a cup of spooge and that his balls were probably flat as a pancake right now. Now that they had fully crossed the line, he knew there was no going back. He had to admit to himself that he didn't want to go back.

"Okay," he said, simply.

"I don't want this to change things," she said.

He laughed. "Too late for that, little girl."

"That's what I mean. I'm still your little girl. I still want to be your daughter and for you be my dad."

"I don't think that's going to be likely," he said. "Most dads don't fuck their daughters."

"You didn't fuck me," she said, slapping his shoulder. "I understand now what you meant by making love. There's nothing else you could call what you just shared with me."

"I know," he said. "But most dads don't make love with their daughters."

"There is an exception to every rule," she said. "When will you be able to get hard again?"

"You want more?" He couldn't suppress a grin.

"I want that every day, three times a day," she said.

"Well that's not happening," he said. "You can only leave your diaphragm in 24 hours. Remember?"

"We'll think of something," she said. "If I suck it, will it get hard again?"

"It's a little messy right now," said Bob.

"I've sucked it when it was messy before," she said.

"Not when it had been inside you," he reminded her.

"Can I tell you something I thought I'd never tell a single person in my whole life?"

"Sure," he said, easily.

"One of my friends tried to get me to go down on her at a sleepover. She offered to do me, too. I wasn't interested, but while she was trying to convince me she said that girly juice - that's what she called it - tasted wonderful. I didn't do it, but then you went down on me and I loved it, and you seemed to like it so later, while I was masturbating, I thought about that and I ... um ... tasted my finger."

She stopped, and didn't seem to be about to say anything else.

"And?" prompted Bob.

"It was weird but ... let's just say the idea of tasting myself on you isn't icky."

"Well, I'm not promising anything, but if you want to try ... knock yourself out," he said.

She crawled down and took his flaccid penis in her mouth. Almost immediately she spat it out.

"This feels really weird," she said. "It's all soft and squishy."

"That's your fault," he teased.

"It makes me want to bite down on it."

"Please don't do that," he said.

"I won't. I'm just telling you what it's like."

"Thank you for sharing," he said, smiling.

She went back to work on it and, slowly, Bob realized she was going to succeed. It took ten minutes, but then she pulled off his mostly hard penis and grinned.

"Look what I did!" she said, proudly. He wanted to laugh. It was as if she'd constructed something out of papier-mâché and was proudly exhibiting it.

"Careful," he said. "That's dangerous."

"No it's not," she scoffed. "It's my new favorite thing."

"Well, then, why don't you sit on your new favorite thing?"

"Be on top? I've heard of that," she said.

"Some women like it a lot," he responded.

She scrambled up, straddled him and gripped his cock. With an instinct all women have, she aimed, notched it, and then sank down on him with a sigh.

"What now?" she asked.

"Put your hands on my chest." She did. "Now lean forward and scooch up a little bit." She did and her eyes opened wide.

"Oh my," she sighed again.

"You're on your own, now," he grinned.

Within minutes she was panting heavily, her hips moving in a smooth rhythm broken up by sessions of jerkiness that almost unseated her. Her hair hung down like a curtain, shielding her face from his view.

"I do like this," she gasped.

"Me, too," he admitted. "I can go a long time like this."

"Really? Goody."

He reached to squeeze both nipples, rolling them between his thumbs and fingers.

"Ohhhh," she groaned. "If you keep doing that I'm going to cum."

"That's the whole point," he said.

"Okay," she gasped. "Don't stop. I'm almost there."

"Go for it," he said, smiling.

Maybe a minute later she gasped and froze for a second. Then, with a lurch, she sat up and her hips went into overdrive, whipping forward and back as she got the deepest possible penetration. She wailed, and then, as if drunken, leaned to one side. His hands went to catch her and she fell forward to land on his chest limply.

"Oh Daddy," she panted. "Oh Daddy."

He stroked her back and felt her get even more relaxed, if possible. He was still hard, but had no urge to cum. He had achieved as much pleasure as she had, and was satisfied with that.

Ten minutes later he heard her soft slow breathing announce she had fallen asleep.

She was surprisingly heavy on him, so he disturbed her by rolling them sideways. His penis came out of her in the process and she murmured as she neared consciousness. Then, as she stopped moving, she sank back into slumber.

Ten minutes after that, both were asleep.

Chapter Five

Again, the next morning, Bob awoke to an empty bed, Cindy having gotten up and gone to school. That day was less troublesome than the previous one. Conditions had changed. They were lovers now, plain and simple. It might be taboo, but her consent and enthusiasm were established beyond any doubt. He did worry a bit about the sperm he'd deposited next to the opening to her womb, but hoped she was right, and that there was no egg available for his little swimmers to find.

He got a lot of work done that day, finishing three projects. He was out delivering them when Cindy got home from school. She was finishing up making a batch of tuna and noodles when he got home. All she was wearing was an apron.

"Hi," he said. "How are you?"

"I'm wonderful," she said, beaming.

"You look good," he said, feeling his cock respond to her appearance.

"Thank you, sir. Wash your hands. It's ready."

"I'm ready for something else," he said, grinning.

"Later," she said, primly. "I haven't done my homework yet."

"It's Friday night," he observed. "You can do your homework tomorrow."

"I have a date tonight," she said. "If it goes well I'll probably sleep late tomorrow."

"A date?" He felt a stab of jealousy streak through him.

"Yes," she said, simply.

"Okay, then," he said, suppressing his enviousness.

"So go wash your hands. This is better when it's hot."

He did so and returned to the kitchen to find the table set and the food ready. She had removed the apron and was sitting at the table, stark naked.

"You're killing me, here," he sighed.

"You've seen me this way hundreds of times," she said. "I'm surprised you still have your clothes on."

"If I take my clothes off you'll see how jealous I am that you're going on a date," he admitted.

"Awww. You're sweet. But I have to go on dates. It would look strange if I stopped dating and didn't have a boyfriend."

"The idea of you having a boyfriend is even worse," he said. "But I understand. Just don't do with your dates what you did with me."

"Of course not," she said. "I don't want to do that with anybody else. Not yet. Maybe some day. Do you want me to tell you when that is?"

"No," he said, sitting down. "Fathers don't want to know when that happens."

"Okay, then. My lips will be sealed," she said.

"Anyway, that's years in the future," he said. "Right?"

"Years," she agreed.

She served him and then herself, and they ate in silence for a while.

"So ... who's the lucky guy?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"You'll see," she said.

"Do I know him?"

"You've seen him before."

"You're being awfully mysterious about this," he said.

"A girl likes to have some secrets," she responded.

He began to worry that she was having second thoughts about all that had happened, and was intentionally arranging to be away from him, at least for one night.

"Cindy," he started. She looked up. "About last night."

"Last night was perfect," she said. "Don't worry."

"Okay," he sighed.

But his appetite had fled. He ate a few more bites and then did what he felt like he should do.

"I'm full. You go ahead and get ready for your date. I'll clean up in here," he said.

"Okay," she said. She got up, glorious in her nudity. His groin tightened even more, even though his penis couldn't get any harder than it already was.

He finished in the kitchen and then went to sit down in the double recliner. There was nothing on TV he wanted to watch, so he booted up Netflix and sifted through its offerings. He'd been watching the new episodes of The Black List, and clicked on that. He was halfway through an episode when he saw movement in his peripheral vision. He looked to see Cindy, who had struck a pose.

"How do I look?" she asked.

She was wearing her prom dress. And it was obvious she'd left off the Band-aids. Her fat nipples clearly announced they were unencumbered and ready to come out and play.

"You forgot something," he said. His cock had gone soft. Now it reared its head again.

"No I didn't," she said.

"You're going out like that?" He frowned.

"Not exactly," she said. "I'm going to do prom again ... except it's here ... and you're my date."

She giggled at the look on his face.

"Come on. Dance with me."

She went to the stereo and he learned she'd made a CD with a mix of her favorite songs, all of them slow.

"I should go change into something more suitable to be out with a beautiful woman," he said.

"You're fine," she said. "Just dance with me."

They danced, there in the living room, swaying slowly through three songs before she spoke.

"You know, I've heard that boys have expectations of how things will go after prom."

"Have you?"

"Uh huh," she said. "I hear boys expect for naughty things to happen."

"They do," he admitted.

"What kind of things?" she asked.

"Well, it might start during prom," said Bob. "A boy might want to do this."

He slid his hand down her naked back and dipped it into her dress. Immediately he felt the stiff fabric of her garter belt and his cock lurched in his pants. He pushed it against her.

"You can't do that," she said, pushing back at his stiffness. "That's very naughty."

"Then he might do this," said Bob, removing his hand and sliding it around her hip and up to cup one soft breast.

"Absolutely not allowed," she said, pressing the breast into his hand. "Way too naughty."

"After prom he'd try to get you alone, to make out," said Bob.

"Making out is okay," she said.

He took her to the couch and laid her on it, crushing her against the back as he lay down half on her. After three or four long, hot kisses, he moved is hand to her leg, pulling her dress up so he could slide his hand under it and up to her thigh.

"Careful, Buster," she said.

"He'll try to touch your panties," Bob warned.

"Nice try," she said, giving him several nipping kisses. "He can't."

"He'll try," insisted Bob, sliding his hand higher.

"He'll fail," she said. "I left my panties off."

Bob's hand shot up to feel warm, slippery lips.

"Too naughty!" she said.

"How about this?" asked Bob, sliding a finger into her clasping heat.

"No! Stop that this instant!" she said, as she lifted a leg to give him more room. "My daddy would be furious with you. He'll beat you up if you don't stop."

"I'm not scared of your daddy," he said, moving his finger around inside her. "Let's get it on. I know you want to."

"No way!" she said. "I don't do that kind of thing."

"You can tonight. It's prom. It's a special night. It's okay to do it on prom night."

"I don't think my daddy would agree," she said, panting now.

"Your daddy isn't here," he said. "Show me those pretty titties of yours."

"No! And they aren't titties. They're breasts, you beast."

Without warning, she pushed him hard and he rolled to land awkwardly on his back on the floor. She was up in a flash and ran to the front door.

"I'm leaving! You went way too far. I'm not that kind of girl!"

With that she stormed out the front door, leaving Bob bewildered, still sitting on the floor.

Then the door opened and she came regally through it.

"I'm home," she announced in her normal, everyday voice.

Bob levered himself up off the floor and sat on the edge of the couch. She was obviously still acting out some plan.

"How'd it go?" he asked, hoping he'd said the right thing.

"It was wonderful!" she gushed. "I had such a good time."

Suddenly, Bob recognized that was just what she'd said when she came home from prom that night. He tried to remember what he'd said, but couldn't.

"Well, I'm tired," she said. "I'm going to bed."

"Oh," he said. "Okay."

"Don't you want a good night hug and kiss?" she asked.

"Of course," he said. "Sure."

"Good," she said.

She came to him, hugged him and then brought her lips to his for a kiss.

That's when he smelled the alcohol on her breath. He almost laughed, knowing she'd hidden it on the porch and taken a sip after she "stormed out".

"You've been drinking!" he said, making his voice growl.

"Only a few sips," she said. "I only did it to fit in."

He pushed her back, holding her arms and looked at her breasts.

"And where are your Band-aids?" he growled.

"I took them off. Josh wanted to see my breasts. I let him, but that's all. Honest."

"Is it? We'll just see about that."

He took her to her bedroom and removed her dress.

"What are you doing, Daddy?" she whined.

"I'm checking your diaphragm," he said.

"Daddy! I didn't have sex!" she objected.

"I'm just making sure," he said.

"I can't believe you don't trust me," she wailed.

But she lay back on the bed, in only her garter belt and hose, and spread her legs.

"Go ahead," she sighed, theatrically.

He was surprised to find she'd actually put the diaphragm in. He replayed the scene, pulling it out as her hips rose and fell. He made sure to rub her clit as he removed it and then made a show of inspecting it.

"Your fingers in me felt funny," she said.

"Funny how?"

"I was horny when I got home, but then you ruined it, but now I'm horny again."

"That's normal. When a man touches you there nature wants you to get horny."

"Well what are you going to do about it?" she asked.

"Me?"

"You're the one who got me horny."

"But I'm your father," he said.

"You're also the one who got me horny. So what are you going to do about it?"

"I thought Josh got you horny," he reminded her.

"He tried to put his hand in my panties," she confessed.

"Did he, now."

"Yes. He reached under my dress and felt my garter belt. It drove him a little crazy."

"I can understand that," said Bob.

"Oh? Is Daddy horny?"

"Any man would be horny seeing you like this," said Bob.

"Maybe, but I won't let any of them help me," said Cindy. "You wouldn't approve. So that means you have to help me."

"Baby, I'm just a man. I might want to do more to help you than you want me to."

"Don't worry. I'll make you stop if you go too far."

Cindy was still lying half on the bed, her knees spread wide apart. She was still wearing the garter belt and hose. Bob was naked, his prick jutting proudly from the fluff of hair that decorated his balls. Those balls were full and heavy. He'd sucked her nipples to hard points and was currently rubbing the tip of his cock around her clit.

"I'm still horny," panted Cindy.

"I've already done way more than I want any boy to do to you," he huffed.

"It's okay for you to help me," she said, reaching for his cock and pulling.

"Like this?" he asked, pressing forward until he was fully sheathed.

"Oh yeahhhh," she groaned. "That's helping a lot. Something itches in there. Could you move it around in me and scratch it?"

"Like this?" he asked, pulling out and pushing back in.

"Yes. I think that's helping. Do that some more," she panted.

He did, just stroking her gently, massaging her interior with his prod.

"That's very nice," she sighed.

"Be sure to tell me when you aren't horny anymore," he said.

"I will. You can't stop yet. Keep going."

He leaned forward, holding himself up with stiff arms and went in deep. Then he swayed his hips sideways, able to put intense pressure on her mons without crushing her upper body.

"Oh yes," she groaned. "Keep doing that."

It took another minute and a half, but it was obvious she was getting closer and closer. She started to sound like the soundtrack of a porn movie and he pressed even harder, feeling the tip of his cock digging into her cervix.

When she went off her scream made him wince and he worried for a few seconds that the neighbors might hear her.

Then her pussy was milking him and the sudden urge to spew was upon him. His eyes went to the diaphragm lying on the bed beside her head and he started to withdraw. Somehow she knew what he intended and her legs whipped up to wrap around him in an iron vice.

"Cindy!" he gasped.

"In me," she barked.

"Baby!" he objected.

"Squirt me, Daddy," she gasped. "I want to feel it."

He was beyond controlling it and her acceptance of his seed was like a pump whirling to empty his balls. With a groan he let loose and rejoiced in the soothing jets that left his body to become part of hers.

"Yes!" she exulted. "I feel it. It's so warm."

Their position was uncomfortable, at least for Bob. His back was screaming and his legs felt weak. His arms and shoulders joined the chorus of pain and he had to pull out of her to stand, weaving on shaky knees. Her labia, flushed and gaping, framed the white ooze of his spend as it leaked out of her.

"Cindy!" he gasped, weakly.

Her hand came and two fingers spread his spunk around as she gently rubbed her messy lips.

"I didn't want you to stop. I can't help it. I love the feel of you giving me part of yourself," she panted. "I promise from now on I'll put my diaphragm in."

He sat down on the bed beside her and fell back, his arms going out like wings, prepared to beat down and lift him off the ground.

He had to admit to himself that he'd wanted to feel it one more time, too.

Life throws you a curve ball now and then. Sometimes you recognize it and don't swing. Sometimes you recognize it and think you can hit that ball.

That's what happened to Bob. He knew the game had gotten a lot tougher when his wife left him with their two-year-old daughter. To take the analogy just a little farther, he knew they'd brought in the toughest pitcher in the game, but he had to keep taking swings and hoping for the best.

To give him credit, he had no intentions in any way, shape, or form of ending up with his prick buried in his daughter. All he really wanted was for her to be happy. The thought of having sex with her would have horrified him for the first fifteen years of her life. He wasn't aware of the biological need in both of them, or that their lifestyle would tip them toward fulfilling the emotional needs they had as well.

And Cindy never thought about, or dreamed about the idea of seducing her father. That came from little urges she couldn't know would assail her young mind and body.

Bob, having more experience and maturity, stood there for as long as he could before he took a swing.

Cindy, being new to the game, swung at every pitch.

He just wanted her to be happy. He couldn't know that her happiness would come to depend on him being her lover.

Which is how she ended up sleeping in his bed every night, naked, writhing under him in complete joy as his penis thrust into her over and over again until both achieved sexual release.

From Bob's viewpoint, he knew it was wrong, but couldn't control himself. It was like two rare earth magnets, stuck together. The force necessary to separate them just wasn't available to him.

From Cindy's viewpoint, there wasn't anything wrong with what they were doing at all. She loved her daddy and he loved her and this was one of the things people who loved each other did to show that love.

Other than mating over nd over, their day-to-day existence was quite normal, as viewed from the outside. Cindy went to school, had friends, and engaged in extracurricular activities. She went on dates, necked with boys, even letting a few of them bare her breasts and suck her nipples. But that's all they got. Many a young man hoped that his adolescent, stiff penis would find its way into her adolescent, tight pussy. In the end, though, that never happened and they delivered her back home, just like millions of horny, unsatisfied boys do every week, thinking about how they would have to jerk off to get relief.

Cindy would get relief, too, with different rigid prick mauling her young pussy.

Had those boys known about it, even if they didn't know whose prick was spurting in her pussy, it would have driven them crazy.

There was only one problem.

Any doctor will tell any woman not to leave a diaphragm in for more than twenty-four hours. That said, they also recommend not removing it until six hours after having intercourse.

When you go to bed and have sex, and then wake up in the middle of the night and have sex again, sometimes when it's time to go to school it isn't six hours after you last had sex. That meant that Cindy sometimes had to remove her diaphragm at school. That was no problem, really. She kept the case for the device in her purse and a quick trip to the bathroom solved that problem.

But weekends were a different kind of animal. On weekends, when it was time to remove the diaphragm, there might be some love play going on that was likely to lead to further intercourse. This couple was a bit like newlyweds. They might have sex three or four times a day. In truth, they sometimes wanted to do more than that, but Bob couldn't keep up with his teenage daughter.

What this led to were dangerous times when the diaphragm was tucked securely in its case, and Bob's penis was tucked securely in Cindy's pussy.

Granted, he always pulled out to shoot in these situations. Cindy loved the feeling of his hot spunk on her belly as he kept thrusting, his balls rubbing her abandoned pussy lips while his cock spat its nectar.

But as any guy will tell you, there's a fine line between pulling out before you spurt ... and pulling out while you are spurting.

Which is why, when Cindy turned seventeen, despite his reluctance to put chemicals in her body, Bob took her to the doctor to get her a prescription for birth control pills.

Her interview with the doctor wasn't quite what he was used to.

"Are you sexually active?" he asked.

"Yes," said Cindy, without blushing.

"How often do you have sex?" he asked.

"As often as possible," she answered, truthfully.

"I see," said the doctor, whose penis was acting very unprofessional at the moment.

"I like sex," said Cindy, smiling brightly.

So she got her prescription.

If you take medication regularly, you know how important it is to get into a routine about that. Certain medications - such as birth control pills - should be taken at the same time every day to be most effective.

If you're not used to taking medication every day, and then you begin to for some reason, and the bottle says something like, "Take one a day until all have been taken," then you might take one whenever you remember to take it, as opposed to getting on a firm schedule.

If you are thinking, "No way I would do that," then remember that mornings can be tumultuous. Say you hit the snooze button a couple of times too many and then, when you get up, you're rushed. You might not have time for breakfast and you tear out the door to get to work on time without ever thinking about taking that pill. Then, when you do think about it, the pills are at home. By the time you get back home, you've forgotten about it again and might not remember it until you're lying in bed.

If you are thinking, "No way, I don't hit the snooze button," maybe you have kids, in which case mornings can be even more tumultuous. You have to get up before you're ready, take care of the kids, which might include getting them out of bed before they're ready, get them fed, get yourself ready for whatever the day requires of you and so forth.

The point is that taking a pill at the same time every day without fail isn't easy to do over an extended time period. Even if you have a routine for that, routines can be disturbed by unusual or surprise events.

It is therefore understandable that Cindy not only didn't take her pills at the same time every day ... once in a while she forgot to take one at all.

For Cindy, this was no big deal. She already knew, from hearing one of her friends say, "Fuck! I forgot to take my pill yesterday!" that when that happened one was supposed to either abstain from unprotected sex for seven days or use some alternate form of birth control.

And she still had her handy diaphragm.

Being a teenager, two things surfaced to undo her. The first was that she didn't want her daddy to yell at her for forgetting to take a pill ... so she didn't tell him when that happened. The second was that she forgot the long-ago instructions from the doctor who fitted her diaphragm about how, as a woman's body changes, she may need to be refitted for a new diaphragm. Such as when a young woman gains ten pounds or more. In Cindy's case, between the time she got her diaphragm and the current time frame, she'd grown two inches and gained twenty pounds.

And that's the situation when, as was now quite normal for this couple, Bob groaned, pushed deep, and deposited a hundred million sperm cells into his daughter's hot, sucking pussy.

About fifty million of those sperm cells were killed by the spermicide involved with the insertion of her diaphragm that night. Bob had no idea he was fucking a diaphragm-equipped pussy, but that didn't matter. Maybe twenty-five million of the remaining wigglers hung out in the heat like vacationers getting a tan. They eventually died. The remainder, though, slipped through a small crack between the poorly-fitting silicone and the mouth of Cindy's womb. They emerged into a place that gave them room to head toward a fallopian tube that had an egg in it that "wasn't supposed to be there". Only five thousand or so actually reached the egg.

Of course, as we all know, only one is needed.

Luckily, depending on how you look at it, she was only three months away from graduating high school when Bob groaned, donated all those sperm cells, and impregnated his daughter.

Chapter Six

There are two kinds of birth control pills, generally speaking. One has three weeks of active drug in it that prevents ovulation, and then a week of placebo pills that allow the body to have what appears to be a menstrual period. Why this was done goes back to 1958, when the pill was first invented, and isn't important to this story. The other kind prevents ovulation for the entire month and women taking them don't have periods at all.

It was this second type that Cindy was taking, so "skipping" a period was now normal, in her mind.

The first symptom that something had changed was when Bob squeezed her right breast while he kissed her and she jerked.

"Ow," she complained.

"What?" asked Bob.

"My breast hurts," she said. "When you squeezed it."

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't think I squeezed it that hard."

"It's okay," she said.

But both breasts were tender after that.

Neither of them thought much about that. Bob figured it was growing pains. He knew that some girls experienced that problem, but didn't dig into it enough to learn that that usually happens during early puberty, rather than at the stage Cindy was in.

It was, a month and a half after Bob unknowingly knocked his daughter up, that she began to have morning sickness.

Even then, it didn't alert them right away. For one thing, it didn't happen in the morning. She got nauseous at school, just before lunch. She skipped lunch that day. The next day it happened on the way home from school, and she told her father she might be getting sick.

He took her temperature, which was within the normal range.

"I feel better now," she said.

Two weeks later, though, they both knew something was up. Normally Cindy used the bathroom facilities at school once a day. Now she had to go three times at school and her trips to the bathroom at home increased, too. She felt tired all the time now, too.

Bob got her an appointment with her doctor.

He was sitting in the waiting room, leafing through a magazine, when his white-faced daughter came out to tell him the news.

It was surreal, walking across the stage, wearing her purple robe and graduation cap, hearing her name read. People were clapping and her friends were hooting. Everything seemed normal on the outside. But inside she knew her daddy's baby was growing in her womb. She was taking vitamins now, which helped with the fatigue. Her morning sickness had faded to happening only a couple of times a week. She felt normal in most senses.

Except that she was pregnant and only she, her father, and her doctor knew that.

When she stood in front of a mirror, naked, turning this way and that, only the fact that her abdomen wasn't board-flat anymore gave any hint that something had changed. Even that slight swell didn't make her look "pregnant" in her own mind.

She'd been ambivalent at first, worrying but not able to articulate what she was worrying about. Never once did she wish she wasn't pregnant, or think of what had happened as a terrible mistake. At the same time she couldn't imagine being a mother, or how that would affect her future.

There had been an awkward few nights, immediately after the doctor told her the results of the pregnancy test he'd done. For the first time in a year she thought about sleeping in her own bed. That didn't feel right either, though, and she never seriously contemplated it. Getting in bed with her father, that first night, had resulted in one of the few times they didn't make love. They lay there, side by side, each distracted by their own thoughts.

Bob's situation was a little different. His primary issue was that he felt guilty. He didn't know what to say to his lover. In a more normal coupling this might not have been such an issue. The normal couple who experiences an unplanned pregnancy approach it from a different perspective.

And yet, both types of couples are still faced with the same primary decision: What do we do now?

Eventually Bob rolled to face his daughter.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I know," she sighed.

"So you're unhappy about this?"

"I don't know. It's all so new."

"I love you," he said.

"I know that," she said. "I love you, too. More than anything."

"We'll get through this," he said.

"I know that," she replied. "I just don't know how."

Bob didn't either, to be honest. He just knew he'd do anything to make his baby girl as happy as possible.

Then they rolled together, to cuddle naked, until both eventually fell asleep.

The second night had been easier. She'd gone to school, knowing she was pregnant, and was amazed all day that nobody could tell. When she got home she talked about that and then they talked about things in general. Her due date was, as it turned out, Thanksgiving Day that year. That meant, if she tried to go to college, she'd be heavily gravid for most of the first semester and then miss classes just before finals. She wasn't excited about that.

Eventually, though, it weighed less and less on her mind. The fact that she didn't hate her father for doing this to her made Bob's daily existence easier, too. Like most people faced with a difficult situation, both adapted and tried to keep on living as normally as possible.

In their case, that meant sleeping together.

Under these conditions, it was inevitable that, one night, Cindy lifted her head from Bob's shoulder and said, "I'm horny."

"I'm amazed," he said, honestly.

"So you're not horny?"

"I didn't say that. I confess you make me horny on a regular basis."

"Even though I'm pregnant?"

"Sweetheart, you being pregnant doesn't have anything to do with it. I love you and that's why I find you irresistible."

"So you are horny," she said, insisting that he answer her question.

He simply moved her hand to his penis.

Ten minutes later he was deep in her, straining to get deeper, while her hips thrust upwards, trying to get him deeper, and the lovers had negotiated another bump in the road of their unconventional relationship.

It wasn't the last bump in the road for this couple. Every relationship has potholes that cause trouble on the trip. But the bond between father and daughter was strong, which helped the bond between lovers be strong as well.

She was four months along when she did her graduation walk and, thanks to baggy clothes and a body that somehow managed to mute, rather than announce it was with child, none of her friends knew she was pregnant. That didn't last past June, but because she wasn't in school, it wasn't a topic of general conversation among her peers. The news did get around, but to anyone who didn't actually see her, it was just information. There were comments like, "Wow, I didn't expect that!", and "I didn't think she was the type," and "Well it wasn't me! She wouldn't let me even get to second base!"

Her friends didn't abandon her, but most of them felt uncomfortable being around her because they didn't know what to say to her. Only two asked her who the father was and to both, she said, "It doesn't matter. Getting married to him is out of the question."

Eventually, as happens with many recent graduates, her social relationships fell off and she spent most of her time at home with her father.

Nobody thought that was strange. Most people thought she was probably embarrassed to be seen in public with a swollen belly. It never occurred to them that she was acting just like a young, pregnant wife, who spent most of her time with the father of her child than with people outside the family.

Cindy had a healthy eight pound boy who she fell hopelessly in love with the second the nurse laid him on her chest. She named him Christopher, after her paternal grandfather. His arrival changed everything, and yet, somehow, life still seemed normal. Such is the adaptability Mother Nature has worked into the DNA of all species.

Cindy would have loved nothing more than living at home acting "married" to her father and having more of his babies. But Bob knew there was no real future for her in that scenario. Nobody noticed much that a teenager got pregnant out of wedlock and that her single father took care of her in the initial months after she gave birth. But if more babies came along people who knew she didn't have a boyfriend or go out on dates would become suspicious if she kept getting pregnant.

In the end Bob basically forced her to "move on" with her life. Because he was self-employed, he had the flexibility to move. The real estate market in a university town is always fluid so finding someplace for them to live there was no problem. They chose a university with a well-respected elementary education program and Cindy became a teacher. It was a difficult four years, but she was proud when she donned another graduation cap and gown and walked across another stage to receive her degree.

That wasn't the only improvement in her life, though. During her senior year she met a man and the chemistry she felt was familiar. That was because being around him made her have some of the same feelings she had when she was around her daddy/lover.

They talked about it in bed and Bob encouraged her to explore those feelings. That led to Cindy going on her first date since high school.

His name was Paul and he was in two of her classes. They had coffee, and then decided to study together. He had roommates, so studying at her house was preferred. Christopher was no problem because "Grandpa" took care of him while the students applied themselves to their lessons.

Cindy, not having been through the emotional wringer that is the result of multiple failed teenaged crushes, wasn't jaded about men. Paul was delighted to be around a woman who didn't play games, was intelligent, and had a good sense of humor. She never talked about Christopher's father and he didn't ask any questions. Furthermore, the little boy was fun to be around and well-behaved. Eventually, the idea of "inheriting" another man's child didn't seem like such a big deal to the farm boy from Iowa.

Their first kiss was electric, for both of them. It happened, as such kisses sometimes do, without being planned.

Christopher had come running to his mother for his good night hug and kiss one night. Bob stood in the opening of the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

"Good night my prince," said Cindy, scooping the little boy up in a hug that crushed him to breasts that had remained full after she stopped breast feeding. She kissed him soundly on the lips and said, "I love you to pieces. I hope you have only wonderful dreams." It was her standard good night speech.

"Good night, Mommy," he piped. "I will."

Then he was off, running to Bob's arms to be carried off to bed, and Paul sighed.

"He's a lucky boy," he said.

"Oh? And why is that?"

"I'd love to be sent to bed like that." He grinned.

Cindy said nothing and went back to reviewing the questions they expected to be on an upcoming test.

But, when he left for the night, something made her pull him into an embrace. She kissed him, a bit longer than she'd kissed Christopher, and said, "Good night my other prince. I like you to pieces. I hope you have only wonderful dreams."

He leaned back, but left his hands on her lower back.

"I don't think there will be any problems with that," he said. "They might get a little personal. I'll just apologize for that ahead of time."

"Hmmmm," was all she said. She felt a familiar fluttery feeling and knew she'd be hurrying to join her father in bed as soon as this disturbing man left.

There was an obvious attraction between them. At the same time, there was restraint in both of them that each recognized. On Cindy's part, it was because she felt like she was cheating on the only lover she'd ever had, the man she loved more than any other, with the possible exception of her son.

His reluctance was because he, too, had a secret that bound him to his past, one he felt like he could not discuss with this new woman in his life.

As a result, neither was eager to move things farther. But moving things farther is a biological urge that cannot be suppressed forever.

There were more good night kisses. Oddly, neither thought about going out on a date. Their relationship was based on being study partners and friends, or perhaps extra special friends. Eventually their feelings for each other demanded that decisions be made about the future.

And all this time, Cindy talked about everything with her father. As they lay in bed together, cuddling before or after having sex, she'd offer up something she was thinking about, or concerned about. Bob consistently encouraged her to pursue a life that he knew would eventually separate her from him, at least in the sense they now enjoyed. That made it easier for Cindy to feel like she was not cheating on him.

One example of this was on a night when she was sitting on top of Bob, his prick firmly buried in her belly. He was lightly pinching her nipples, which had also remained large and well-formed after Christopher spent six months sucking on them. Bob was partly responsible for that, too.

"He kissed me again tonight," she said, thrusting her hips languidly.

"Was it a good kiss?" asked Bob.

"Yeah. It made me tingly."

"That's good," he said.

"It made me think about doing this," she said, clenching her internal muscles to squeeze the penis that had impregnated her.

"That's normal," he said.

"I can't imagine doing this with anyone else," she said.

"Millions of women do it every night," he responded.

"You know what I mean," she said.

"Sweetheart, you know you can't live at home your whole life."

"I know. I wish I could, though."

"Paul seems like a good guy," said Bob. He hadn't had all that much interaction with the man on an interpersonal level.

"He is. And he likes me. I can tell."

"I can tell you like him, too."

There were other conversations like that, and they allowed Cindy to loosen the leash on her emotions towards Paul.

Their kisses moved from being "good night" kisses to something more. Eventually those kisses lasted for five or ten minutes. Eventually when their studies were finished one night, she sat on the couch and patted the seat beside her.

"Let's talk," she said.

"Talk?" He grinned.

"Among other things," she said, her face calm.

That was one of the things Paul liked about her so much. She didn't tease or play the social games other women he knew did.

So he sat and, fifteen minutes later, as their welded lips nipped at each other, she brought his hand to her breast. He squeezed it once, but then sat back, breaking their embrace.

"Your father," he said.

"He's fine with this," she responded. "He and Christopher are already in bed."

His frown remained.

"What's wrong?" she asked, sensing some turmoil in him.

"I can't," he said.

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't be fair to you."

Something bloomed in Cindy's mind, popping into it from nowhere.

"There's another woman," she said. That made her gut clench.

"Sort of," he said, uncomfortably.

"Sort of? What does that mean?" she probed. "You and I spend four nights a week studying. Are you dating somebody?"

"No," he said, and then bit his lip. It was almost as if he wished he hadn't denied it.

"Just tell me," she said.

"I can't," he moaned. "You wouldn't understand."

It was Cindy's own past, with her unorthodox familial relationship that made her say, "Perhaps I would." She didn't explain that, of course, but that's what came out of her mouth.

"No you wouldn't," he said, firmly. "Nobody would."

"What an interesting thing to say," said Cindy, who understood that perspective completely.

"I should just leave," he said.

"I think you should just stay," she responded.

"Cindy, this will never work out," he groaned.

"Are you gay?"

He looked genuinely surprised.

"Of course not!" he blurted.

"Then what?" she insisted.

"If I tell you, you'll be disgusted. You'll never want to see me again."

"Do you have a sexually transmitted disease?" she asked.

"No, it's nothing like that." Again he seemed genuinely surprised at the question.

"Okay," said Cindy, even more curious, now. "You may as well just tell me. I'm not letting you leave until I find out."

"Why!" he groaned.

"Because I like you," said Cindy. "I like you a lot. I'm not ready for you to disappear out of my life."

"If I tell you, then you'll throw me out," he said, his voice intense. "I'm going to disappear from your life one way or another!"

"Well," said Cindy calmly, "if you're going to disappear, then at least I'd like to know why that happened."

"You won't give up," he groaned.

"Nope. It's just the way I am."

He sat, mute. Cindy let him think, also sitting silently. Eventually she reached to take his hand in hers, but said nothing.

The range of emotions that crossed his face were evidence of the tumult raging through his mind, but his hand squeezed hers lightly. Finally he sighed, looking defeated, and turned to face her.

"I have a sister," he said, softly.

When he didn't go on, Cindy said, "I know. Susan? You've mentioned her before."

"Yes," he said. "We're ..." He looked away. "Close."

"Okay," said Cindy.

"Very close," he said, still looking away.

Understanding blossomed in Cindy's mind. Rather than the disgust he expected her to arrive at, she felt something like elation.

"Closer than people would approve of," she said. It was a statement, rather than a question.

He glanced at her and the fact that her face wasn't twisted in judgment let him turn to stare at her face.

"Yes," he said.

She made her decision in a split second. Later she would marvel at the audacity of exposing herself to all manner of problems, and be very thankful that those problems never materialized.

"I do understand," she said, softly. "Christopher is Daddy's baby."

The range of emotions that the young couple experienced that night would fill a book by itself. To boil it down to its most elemental level, the relief in sharing a secret that neither thought they could ever share without bringing destruction down upon them was palpable.

Nothing was discussed about their personal histories then. That would come later. Suffice it to say that their acceptance of each other's "perversions" opened the door to allow their feelings for each other to finally come out and play. The natural urges each had felt before this were unleashed and, perhaps twenty minutes later, Cindy was naked, splayed out on the couch while Paul loomed over her, equally nude.

Cindy looked with unabashed interest at the second penis that would penetrate her, while Paul looked at the same penis, which had never entered any woman other than his "little" sister.

That first coupling was less than ideal. Paul was too excited to last and Cindy liked a lot more foreplay than they had engaged in. But accepting this man as another lover made her finally feel as if she did - or at least could - have a future that might be, at least on the surface that others would see, normal.

For that reason, when he sagged on top of her, groaning, "I'm sorry," she let her hands play on his back and used those internal muscles that drove her father crazy, to milk Paul of his manly nectar.

"It's okay," she whispered, kissing his forehead.

And it was okay. His shame at his premature ejaculation made him anxious to ensure she remembered this night as something good. And, being young and strong, it wasn't long before his penis was firm again. Cindy, sensing that it was "her turn" sat him on a straight-backed chair and sank down on his firmness, instructing him to suck her nipples while she gyrated. She'd done this enough with her other lover that she reached an orgasm quickly, kissing Paul while that happened.

Then they rested, back on the couch, comfortable in their nudity ... and talked about everything.

Bob's response was mixed. She told him, of course. They had no secrets and never would.

On the one hand he was jealous that, while he slept the night before, his baby girl's pussy was plundered by another man. On the other he knew this was a necessary and good thing. On the one hand he was delighted and amazed that Paul had the same kind of secret Cindy did. On the other he was nervous about the fact that Paul would want Susan to live with them. That had been the obvious solution to Paul and Cindy. They'd get a house big enough for Daddy and Susan to join them in wedded bliss. Neither could leave sister or father behind in the dust.

Assuming, of course, that father and sister were willing to live that way.

Father and sister, as it turned out, were willing to live that way.

It meant moving again, but both graduates would have had to do that anyway, seeking jobs, and Bob decided if that was the worst that happened then he was a very fortunate man indeed. And it couldn't happen right away. Paul and Cindy had to graduate first, and then find jobs in the same town somewhere. Susan had to be brought into the circle and Paul had no idea how she'd react to all this.

That was, in fact, the first order of business. Paul called Susan and asked her to come visit him, something that had happened on many other occasions. Their parents had died in a car crash when she was in her second year of college and that had brought brother and sister even closer together than they had been before, if that was possible. They had leaned on each other ever since and it had already been in their plans to live together when Susan graduated.

Susan also knew that she and her brother would never be able to express their love for each other in any public way. She had even had short sexual liaisons with other men, but they never satisfied her like Paul did. And she knew Paul deserved to have a wife and children he could claim in the normal manner. She was ambivalent about having children herself. She couldn't imagine herself as a mother. And she was quite happy with having Paul as her lover ... understanding that it wasn't often enough to suit her. For those reasons she nervously embraced Paul's new plan. Her feelings were much like Bob's.

That would change, eventually, as would Bob's reaction to things. It helped that Susan liked Bob and vice versa. At this point, however, both were nervous about the unknown, while being grateful that they could still be with the ones they loved. Even if it was a very odd togetherness.

Part of that oddness was that, while Susan was there for a long weekend, both she and Bob were aware that now other people knew what they were both doing, as Paul lustily fucked his sister in his room (his roommates thought she was his girlfriend) and Bob lovingly rodded Cindy at their house.

Maybe it was the fact that nothing blew up in the week following her visit, and that everything continued to be as normal as it had been before, that caused both Bob and Susan to believe that all this might work out. At least they were hopeful.

If they were hopeful, Paul and Cindy were certain. The first time they hastily threw off their clothes and engaged in a torrid embrace, each knew that the other had, just the night before, been in the arms of another. Neither cared, and their lovemaking was almost frantic with the joy of having found each other.

Graduation is always a relief and the feeling of "commencement" can be palpable. In this case it was even more emotionally charged. Cindy had found a job in a medium-sized town that had been bigger but declined when a major manufacturing plant had been lured to another state by tax benefits. The city fathers had decided to take a page from that book and had been moderately successful in getting other companies to come to town. It would be years before things were back to "normal" but there was hope. The school system had also suffered as the property taxes that had supported it also took a hit and they had frozen salaries as a result. That made them less competitive than a lot of other places, but that worked to Paul and Cindy's advantage. They were less concerned with money than they were with building the home they desperately wanted together. Neither had been able to afford luxuries in the past, so doing without them was no real burden.

Even more important, the fact that Cindy was pregnant (again) and would miss some school wasn't a problem. The district had been using substitute teachers for more than a year because they couldn't lure certified teachers to town. Maternity leave wouldn't be a problem.

It helped that the cost of living was low. The real estate market was bloated and a number of nice homes had sat for sale for more than a year. It also helped that the nearest company that did a wide range of computer repair business was forty miles away.

When the principal found out Cindy was married to another teacher she was delighted. Paul was hired as the science and math teacher. Other teachers gave them advice on which realtors they could trust and what part of town to live in.

Three months later Susan arrived with a U-haul trailer behind her Jeep and moved into one of the four bedrooms in the family's new house. There was a basement, part of which Bob had turned into his workshop. Her arrival was exciting for more than one reason. As soon as she got out of the car Paul gave her a big hug and kiss and then pushed back, leaving his loins in contact with hers.

"Something's different," he said, frowning.

Susan's brow also furrowed.

"You know how they say the pill is 98% effective? I guess it turns out I'm in the other two percent. I hope you're not mad."

Paul blinked and then stepped back completely.

"You're pregnant?"

"Yup," she said, as calmly as she was able. She'd worried about this all the way there.

Paul suddenly let out a rebel yell that scared both Susan and Cindy, who was just then coming out of the house. She'd been in the shower when Susan arrived.

It was then that Susan was brought up to date on Cindy's maternal condition, something Paul had been worried about telling her. Having sex with your father is one thing. Having his baby is something else. But Susan's acceptance of her own brother's baby in her womb made it all seem funny somehow.

Thirty minutes later Susan lay spread-eagle under her brother as he celebrated having become a father in her, and next door Cindy rode her father, teasing him about how, after she had his baby, she was going to let her breasts leak milk all over his chest while they made love.

Susan was an LPN. She'd gotten her license through the board of nursing, which was the same process her new state of residence used. The local hospital was just as strapped for employees as the school system was and she was welcomed with open arms, especially since she said she wanted to further her education and become a registered nurse. The hospital even offered tuition assistance if she would sign an agreement to stay there for three years once she got her degree. Maternity leave was also no problem for the hospital.

Life settled down. Both mothers-to-be became best friends, preparing together to bring two children into the home. Christopher, who now had a surplus of adults to play with and be read to by, was excited at the idea of having a little brother and sister to do all that with, too. The fathers of those children-to-be strutted around for a month or two and then set about becoming coaches for the birthing process.

Sleeping arrangements were fluid. The only pairing that didn't happen was Bob with Susan. They liked each other a lot, but neither wanted to expand their love lives. There was some discussion about pretending to be a couple, since that might have looked more normal to the outside world. The fact that Susan was two years younger than Cindy, though, made that option seem less "sellable," so they decided not to put up that front.

As it turned out, it didn't matter. It was a small town and within months lots of people knew that Paul and Cindy had "boarders" living with them, and who those people were. Nobody thought it was strange that Cindy's father lived with them and most people thought that Susan had been invited there both to share the financial burden of owning a home, and because the father of her child had obviously abandoned her. That her family was willing to help her in her time of need was admirable.

So Cindy and Paul had the master bedroom, and Susan and Bob each had their own bedroom. The fourth bedroom was Christopher's, but would also be used as a nursery when the babies came along. Where someone slept depended mostly on whim. Sometimes Paul would go to his sister's room and sleep there for the night. That usually meant Bob slept with Cindy in her marital bed. If Cindy wanted to ride her father (her favorite position) she might take him to his room. If Paul and Susan were in the master bedroom, she just stayed there.

They'd chosen to buy an older house both because of the price and because they wanted more than three bedrooms. The house had been well cared for, but only the kitchen and master bath had been updated over the years. As a result, the only shower was in the master bathroom. The other two bathrooms had tubs in them.

What this meant was that the dress code was extremely relaxed. Everyone saw everybody else in various stages of dress as they went to or from the shower. Within a month modesty was a thing of the past. It became normal for someone who needed to take a shower to enter the master bedroom, saying, "Sorry," while a couple was entwined in a torrid embrace on the bed. Such "apology" was almost always ignored.

It was in this fashion that Susan got to see both Bob and her brother lustily fucking Cindy, in a variety of positions. As Cindy's belly grew, the men took her from behind (something Paul also did with Susan) or Cindy sat on top of them, gyrating happily (something Susan was beginning to like a lot more than she had in the past).

It was inevitable that, at one time or another, Susan and Bob would come face to face while one or the other was naked, if not both. The fact that Bob's penis saluted Susan was treated as both a compliment and funny.

It was probably this easy familiarity with each other that created the sexual tension that would, over a period of a little more than two years, lead Susan and Bob to become close enough to think about being more than just friends.

Which is why, when Cindy's son and Susan's daughter were two years old, and each mother announced she was to be a mother again ... this time nobody was sure of who the fathers were.

But that didn't matter. By this time they were all simply one big family. There was no stress as everyone did their part and they became dedicated parents and members of the community.

There was only one real problem. You can't raise children in that kind of atmosphere without the kids soaking it all up. Of course you want them to soak up your values and work ethic. You want them to learn responsibility and how to set and fulfill goals. But they soak it all up, whether you're aware of it or not.

As was established when, one day more than a decade later, Cindy entered her fifteen-year-old son's bedroom, intending to get his hamper and wash his clothes, and found him on top of a squirming girl, her legs thrown wide and his adolescent erection flashing in and out of her slippery pussy. She turned out to be Susan's sixteen-year-old daughter, Melody, who was supposed to be getting ready to go to prom later that evening.

And it wasn't the first time they'd done this.

But that's another story entirely.

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