Getting Ready For Prom

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

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.


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.

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