Incestuous Encounters - Page 2

JEMMA · #16 23-05-2018, 09:55 AM

I did. In fact I did it then, and then later that night in her bed too, after the folks were asleep and I snuck in there. I liked the bed better, but I forgot one thing.

Christy makes a lot of noise when she cums. And I mean a LOT of noise. Earlier that day, in the barn, it hadn't sounded so loud, I guess.

Anyway, I was right in the middle of squirting my sisters soft hot pussy all full of spunk when all of a sudden the door slammed open and our Mother was standing there.

She had this wild sort of look on her face, like she was expecting to find blood everywhere or something. I'm telling you Christy REALLY yells. She took in this big breath of air and I thought we were goners when Dad showed up right behind her and his hands came around her and cupped her titties through her nightgown.

As he pulled her back out of the room I heard him say: "Come on little sister ... don't be upset. You know how it is ... like father ... like son."

Since then I haven't had the urge to ask those silly girls out any more.

I've got Christy, and she's really all I need.

END

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Floppydick · #17 23-05-2018, 12:44 PM

Solid writing. Can I use you to write my personal stories?

CheryCute · #18 23-05-2018, 02:47 PM

Quote:

Originally Posted by Floppydick

Solid writing. Can I use you to write my personal stories?

Please don't waste bandwidth

JEMMA · #19 24-05-2018, 10:49 AM

New Storyline to add....First Date

An angry Chrissy reflected on how she was 16 years old and she hadn't been on a single date.

It wasn't because she was unpopular. Lots of kids at her school liked her and wanted to be around her.

It wasn't because she was ugly. Her 5" 6" frame supported breasts that were a handful each, tipped with sharp little pencil eraser sized nipples just made to suck on. Below that were her thin waist and hips that any baby-bearing woman would love to have. Her cute little pussy lips were pink and plump and nestled just below fine wisps of black pubic hair. Her face was gorgeous. She was a knockout.

No, the reason Chrissy had never been on a date was because of her father, one Stephen Lye by name.

He wasn't mean or anything. He just remembered what he tried to do with 16-year-old girls when he was, say 14 through 20. For that matter he lusted after Chrissy's friends regularly and would gladly plow their sweet teen furrows if it didn't mean he would end up in prison. He knew what boys thought about when they looked at his daughter, and he had decided a long time ago that she wasn't going to be exposed to groping strangers out for a quick fuck and then on to the next girl.

To be fair, any boy she wanted to spend time with was welcome to come to the house and they could watch TV, or make something to eat, or play board games on the dining room table. Anything except be alone, especially in a bedroom.

Adding to the problem was Chrissy's brother Samuel. He was 18 and a tackle on the football team. He was a big, big boy and nobody wanted to mess with him. He made it known when Chrissy was just a freshman that any guy who messed with his sister sexually was dead meat. Period. He was encouraged in this attitude by his father. Chrissy had no mother to intercede for her. Her mother had run off with a biker gang when Chrissy was only three.

The end result of all this "protection" by her father was that he had erred in his judgment - seriously erred.

For, you see, Chrissy had no experience with groping boys at all. She had never been kissed, never been petted and for sure had never had a boy's mouth or fingers anywhere near her sweet little pussy. No boy even tried to sneak off to a dark corner with her. They danced with her - properly apart from her soft body, of course. But they never tried to get in her panties. And, because of this, she just flat didn't believe that boys really tried to do any of those things. As far as she was concerned, it was all a big fairy tale her father had concocted just to justify his stupid rules.

She had just told him that, in fact. She had told him in a loud voice that some might even have called a scream. Her face was red, and her delightful bosom was heaving. Her father was sitting in his lounger with a smug look on his face. He knew what boys tried to do.

"Chrissy, darling," he said calmly. "I know what boys want to do to you, because I was a boy once upon a time and I tried all the things that boys always try with girls. I tried the lines, I tried getting them drunk, I tried begging for sympathy - all of it. And I got my dick wet plenty, I'll tell you that!" He jerked his head, somewhat startled that he had admitted that to his nubile teenage daughter.

"Oh bullshit!" Chrissy yelled. "Just bullshit, Daddy. Boys don't want those things anymore. Maybe they did when you were young, but boys are polite nowadays, since women's lib and all that stuff. You're old fashioned Daddy and it's not fair. I don't get to do anything!" she wailed.

Stephen frowned. "Chrissy!" he barked. "That will be enough of that kind of language. I'm not wrong about this and I think I can prove it."

"Oh reeaaallly," Chrissy drawled. "I would like to see that, Daddy. I really would."

Stephen thought for a minute. "All right. But you have to do whatever I say, okay?"

Chrissy was puzzled. She always did what her father told her to. "What do you mean?" she asked warily.

"I think I can prove to you what boys want, and what that causes girls to want, but you'll have to do some things that you might not otherwise be willing to do," he said, like that explained everything. "Look," he said impatiently. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do, Daddy," she said.

"Okay, then, just keep on trusting me, even if it seems weird, okay?"

"Okay, Daddy," she said.

"Sam!" yelled her father.

A distant call came back "What?"

"Come down here!" yelled her father.

A moment later Sam, came bounding down the stairs. He was dressed in the usual, sweat shorts and a tank top.

"What's up Dad?" he said. He nodded to Chrissy.

"I need you to do something for me," he said. "I want you to tell Chrissy ... I mean us, what goes through a boy's mind when he's on a date with a girl he likes."

"Um ... I don't understand," said Sam.

This wasn't technically true. Sam pretty well knew what he thought about every girl he took out. He hoped each one would turn out to be a cumslut who would spread her legs for him without asking. Why else would a guy take a girl out? But he didn't think that's what his father wanted to hear. And, since he didn't know the right answer to the question at hand, he played the ignorance card.

"Chrissy doesn't believe that boys she goes out with would actually want to have sex with her," said Stephen.

Two things happened almost instantly for Sam. First, all the times Sam had tried to peek at his sister, to see her naked, and all the times he had furiously beat his meat while thinking about her naked, flashed through his mind. He knew how desirable she was as a woman. And he was her brother!

Second, he couldn't help but reflect on the mental image that came to his mind concerning the concept of "boys wanting to have sex with Chrissy". In this case, the last boy Sam had seen Chrissy with came to mind. That was Mark, who bragged about what a fabulous cocksman he was. The fact that Mark was only with Chrissy because she stopped to help him pick up some spilled papers didn't come into play.

JEMMA · #20 24-05-2018, 10:50 AM

What Sam visualized was Mark, hunched between Chrissy's wide spread legs, while his ass bobbed up and down and his undoubtedly nasty cock slithered in and out between his sweet sister's pussy lips.

In short, Sam got horny and pissed at the same time. He laughed a dark laugh.

"That's stupid," he said. "Every guy who ever looked at you wanted to get in your pants."

"That's not true!" squealed Chrissy, her eyes wide at how crude Sam could be.

"That's what we're trying to tell you, honey," said her father in his reasonable voice. "Men are built to want to have sex with beautiful girls. You are a beautiful girl. Ergo, men want to have sex with you. Boys too," he added.

Chrissy didn't believe it for one minute. She had an idea. "All men?" she said, acting like she might believe it.

"All men!" said her brother and father together.

"So ...." she preened. "You have wanted to have sex with me too?" She clasped her hands behind her butt and grinned at her father. "I mean you are a man, right? And you did say all men," she finished triumphantly.

She turned on her brother. "And you too!" she giggled now. "Obviously you too have been practically consumed with lust for your dear sister." Now she laughed out loud.

Then she stopped.

Neither man was laughing with her. In fact, both looked decidedly guilty!

"You'll never believe me until you see it for yourself," said her father. "So, you and Sam are going on a date. Tonight. And I'll be with you, but I won't say anything, unless you two are supposed to do something and I see you aren't doing it. Okay? It will be a pretend date, but Sam will show you what boys do on dates with girls. Then you'll understand," he said with finality in his voice.

"But Sam's my brother!" said Chrissy.

"And Chrissy's my sister," said Sam, somewhat unnecessarily.

"That's right, and that's the only reason I'm allowing this," said Stephen. "You must be made to understand how dangerous it is out there. Now. Both of you. Go get dressed for your date. Each of you choose something you'd like to wear on a date with someone you really like."

Both teens trudged off muttering about stupid ideas. Stephen went to each room to ensure that his orders were followed. He went to Sam's room first. "Sam, I want you to pretend she's just another girl you met at school. Treat her just exactly like you'd treat any other girl. Okay?"

"Sure Dad," said Sam, while mentally saying, "With you watching ... right."

Then Stephen went to Chrissy's room. He walked in to find her dressed only in her panties.

"Daddy!" she yipped and covered her precious breasts with her dainty hands.

"Oh! Sorry, sweetheart," he said, looking at the floor. "I know Sam is your brother, but I want you to pretend he's some boy you wish I would let you go out with. And dress like you were going out with that boy, not Sam." Then he left, before she could see the tent in his pants. While that might have supported his contention about "all" men, he was a little embarrassed about it right then.

Sam got back to the living room first. He had on his team sweats. They were talking about football when Chrissy started down the stairs. Both men looked up and their jaws dropped. Chrissy was dressed in a micro skirt with a matching halter top. The halter top had a deep vee that dropped well below the mid point of her breasts, ensuring that everyone knew no bra of any kind was involved in this outfit. Sandals completed her ensemble.

Quite suddenly Sam didn't have very much trouble at all pretending this was just some girl he was taking out on a date.

"Wow," he said. "You look hot!" He flinched and looked at his father out of the side of his eyes, but his dad was staring at Chrissy too.

"Yeah," said Stephen in a dull voice. Then he shook his head, as if trying to drive some thought out of it. "Okay, now you guys have already had dinner. Where would you take her now, Sam?"

Sam knew he would try to get his date out at the beach, where it was quiet and remote and romantic. But he couldn't say that in front of his dad. "I'll uh drive around. I guess."

"Okay then," said Stephen. "Let's go." They went out and got in the car. Chrissy and Sam in the front, and Stephen in the back seat. Sam started driving. He didn't know where to go since he couldn't go to the beach. He was getting frustrated. He could be out with a real girl tonight, but he was stuck with his sister. He glanced at her. Her micro showed her legs almost clear to her pussy. He gulped. She scooted over and leaned one hot breast against his arm. It felt soft.

"Aren't I supposed to sit here, beside you?" she asked in her sweet voice.

"Uh, yeah ... sure," he said. This was crazy. They will be out here for hours. He decided to call his father's bluff. "Actually, I would be taking my date out to the beach. There's this cool place where I take the girls. You know, to talk ... and stuff."

"Now that's more like it," said Stephen. "Let's go."

JEMMA · #21 24-05-2018, 10:43 PM

Sam thought about what was happening as he drove. He did tried to call his father's bluff, but his dad seemed to be pushing them toward something he could dreamed about occasionally as he beat off. That was petting his sister and getting to see her naked. He felt his prick begin to fill with blood. Who knew what might happen? He would just ride along and see. They got to his favorite spot and he parked, turning off the lights. He already had the radio on and he got out his favorite make-out CD and put it in the player. He sat there, not knowing what to do.

"See? This isn't so bad, Daddy," said Chrissy. "I still don't understand what all the fuss is about."

Stephen leaned forward from the darkness in the back seat. "Sam, is that all you do when you bring a girl out here? You just sit?"

"Well no," said Sam. "I usually try to ..." He dropped off. He didn't want to admit that he usually tried to get into the girl's panties.

"What do you try to do Sam?" said his dad. "Come on. Chrissy needs to know."

"Well I kiss them ... and touch them ..." He didn't add, "if they'll let me."

"Okay then, get to it. Show her what boys do."

Sam couldn't cope with the stress. He was trying to be two people at the same time.

About then Chrissy tipped her head up and whispered in his ear, "Aren't you going to kiss me Sam?" She was trying to call someone's bluff too.

So Sam kissed her. In his confusion, he kissed her like he did kiss any girl. Definitely not like he kiss his sister. But she felt like a girl, and she smelled like a girl and within 15 seconds she was kissing like she had done it plenty of times.

As for Chrissy, when her brother kissed her like that, like they did in the movies, she felt weak all over. It made her feel funny in her stomach. No, not in her stomach, but down there somewhere. She decided she liked this kissing stuff. When she felt his tongue slip into her mouth, all slippery and smooth, the feeling "down there" got more intense.

When she kissed him back, and gave him some tongue in return for his own, Sam went on auto pilot. His hands began to stroke her back, moving to her arms, caressing her hair. Now he kissed her cheeks and neck, nibbling on her ear lobe. She shuddered, a good sign, and he kissed her again as he decided to see what her young breasts felt like.

When Sam's hand came around her elbow and cupped her breast through the halter top, Chrissy almost stopped breathing. What was he doing? Boys weren't supposed to do that. She broke the kiss. "Sam!" she said.

"Aw, come on. I won't hurt you. You just look so hot and you feel so soft."

He went back to kissing her.

Chrissy felt all muzzy inside. She felt a thrill shoot through her when he said she looked hot. And his kisses were so wonderful. What could it hurt to let him feel her boobs a little? When his hand slid over her breast again, she pressed it into his hand. It did feel good. She was enjoying a kiss when she realized his fingers were pinching and rubbing her nipple. And that felt really good. Then, somehow, his hand slipped inside her halter top and now he was fondling her naked breast. Now he thrummed her nipple. She felt a sharp stab of pleasure between her legs. She thought that was very odd, but if felt good too.

"Chrissy?" he said as they paused to breathe.

"Hmm?" she said back.

"Can I see them?"

She knew exactly what he was talking about, because his hand was still there, still squeezing and roving around her breast. He had got in through the side of the halter top. But she wanted to tease him for some reason.

"See what Sam?" She arched her chest, pushing the breast into his hand.

"I want to see your titties," he said. "I bet they're beautiful."

"You've seen my boobs before, you ninny," she giggled. "Remember that time when I was in the shower and you had to pee so bad and you couldn't wait and you barged in? You saw them then."

"Yeah," he said. "But I never got to really look at them."

"Chrissy," said their dad, startling them both. They had forgotten he was back there. "Take off your top. That's what the boys will want you to do on dates."

Chrissy reached behind her neck and untied the knot in the halter top. It slipped down her chest and her perfect pale orbs were exposed.

"Oh shit," said Sam. "They really are beautiful." Then his head dipped and he sucked in a nipple.

"Sam!" his sister squealed. "You can't ... ohhhhhh ... you shouldn't ... ummmmm ... oh, Sam, that feels nice." She lay back as his mouth made love to one and then the other turgid nipple. This was really nice and it kept making her pussy feel so warm and wet, just like when she was washing it extra good in the shower.

Sam started running his hand from Chrissy's knee up her thigh and then back down. Her skirt was so short he could almost touch her panties without going under the skirt at all. Her legs weren't closed, but they weren't gaping open either. He let his hand go higher ... higher ... higher ... and then he hit panties.

Chrissy felt his hand moving all over her thighs. It was a new feeling. It was nice, but scary at the same time.

"Sam? What are you doing now Sam?" she said breathlessly.

"I'm just feeling you a little," he said and went back to licking and sucking her nipples.

"I don't think you're supposed to do that, Sam," she sighed. "You shouldn't touch me ... there."

There was a gasp from the back seat, and the sound of a zipper being drawn. Her father's voice was clear when he spoke. "Chrissy, you're here to learn what boys want. Whatever he wants to do, you let him. You need to know what things feel like."

Sam's hand immediately rose to cup her pussy through her panties. He pressed his fingers into her sex and rubbed them in a slow circle.

Chrissy gasped as her brother's hand slapped against her pussy. No boy had ever touched her there, and it felt different. Then he rubbed and electricity shot through her, only this time it went from there to her nipples! She spread her legs almost unconsciously, to give him more room. Now he lifted his head and kissed her again, a long tongue swapping kiss as he rubbed her. Her pussy felt hot ... sticky ... good. She knew he was going to slip his fingers into her panties ... knew he was going to touch her pussy with his fingers. She knew her pussy would make his fingers wet.

She couldn't wait.

She spread her legs wider.

JEMMA · #22 25-05-2018, 09:58 AM

Sam was very excited. His dad had said she had to do what he wanted. He knew it wasn't fair, but he was going to take advantage of it. And when Chrissy spread her legs for him he knew she was getting off on this too. She was giving him permission. He took it. His hand slid up, his fingers dipped into the top of her panties. Suddenly her butt lifted off the seat of the car. He felt her moving and he felt the panties sliding down her thighs. He helped and soon they were at her knees, then her ankles. She didn't kick them off, but flopped her knees apart instantly. His fingers found slick, hot, luscious, excited pussy when he slid them back up. Without thinking he slipped his long middle finger into her molten slot and probed. She was tight. Of course she was tight. She was obviously a virgin. He felt for her hymen at the mouth of her pussy. Nothing. He didn't know how she had lost it, but it wasn't there. He got the tip in her to the first knuckle. Then he pushed and his finger slid all the way in her.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," she groaned. "Ohhhhhhh Sam, I can't believe how good that feels." Sam slicked his finger out and back in several times. Chrissy sighed and her hips started wiggling. "Ohhh yes. Can you make it go deeper?" she sighed. There were definite rhythmic sounds coming from the back seat now, light slapping sounds. "I can't imagine anything feeling better than that," she said.

"There is one thing," her brother grunted. "I mean I did it with Judy Ong one time and she said she had never ever felt anything that good in her whole life."

"Ohhhhhh what did you do?" asked Chrissy, lolling her head back and forth on the seat back.

"Well, I put my cock in her," he wiggled his finger in her pussy. "There, where my finger is."

"Ohhh we couldn't do that," she said. "That would be fucking. And I might get pregnant."

"Oh, I would never make you pregnant," he said. "I would only shoot practice stuff in you." He used the same line he'd used on Judy Ong. She would known he was full of shit, but had let him anyway.

"You can do that?" she panted, getting excited now. "You can control whether it's real or just practice?" Obviously his sister didn't know he was full of shit.

"Sure," he said, as if he believed it himself. "It's hard to learn, but I got the hang of it, and now it's easy."

Chrissy thought she heard a snort from the back seat.

"Well, we can't, because there's no room," she said.

"I brought a blanket," he said confidently.

They scrambled out of the car. Sam opened the trunk and got out a big soft blanket that he spread out on the ground. Chrissy stood in the warm night air, her white breasts plainly visible. She bent over and slipped her mini down her thighs. She stood there naked, uncertain, nervous.

"You're so beautiful," Sam said softly. She smiled tentatively. He took his shirt off, and then dropped his pants, stepping out of them. He kicked off his shoes and pants at the same time. Then he bent over and took off his briefs. When he stood back up his penis stuck straight out from his body, pale in the moonlight. It was slim, long, tapered. It was small at the tip, and got bigger and bigger and bigger toward the base.

"See what you do to me?" he asked. He sounded almost proud.

"That won't fit in me," said Chrissy, completely sure. She crossed her arms over her breasts.

"Yes it will," said her father, as he got out of the back of the car. He stood there, leaning against the car. "It will fit. It was made to fit."

"I'll go slow," said Sam. He reached down and stroked his hard cock a couple of times. "I'll stop if it hurts."

"Promise?" she asked in a little voice.

"Promise," he confirmed. He held his arms out and she accepted his hug. His penis poked her in the abdomen. He reached down and bent it downward, shoving it between her legs. Then he held her close and kissed her deeply again. He moved his boner slowly back and forth, making it rub against her pussy lips.

Chrissy got a weak feeling in her knees as she felt her brother's stiff penis rubbing her pussy lips. His kisses were so hot. She was panting. He was pushing her down, lying down beside her, slipping his finger in her pussy again. She splayed her legs wide open now, kissing him back. Now he was rolling over, halfway on her as he crawled between her wide spread thighs. His finger slicked in and out. Then something else was pushing at her. Was it his cock? Whatever it was it felt good.

Pressure.

Stretching ... her pussy lips were stretching.

It didn't hurt, exactly, but there was a lot of pressure. Now there was something deeper. It was going as deep as his finger had, but it was bigger, lots bigger.

"Wait," she panted.

He stopped immediately.

She squirmed a little, trying to ease the pressure. He sucked in a nipple while he was waiting. The pleasure shot to right where the pressure was and she felt her muscles relax. She tensed them again, pleased to have found some new muscles she didn't know she had. Then she relaxed them intentionally. Her brother groaned!

"Is something wrong?" she panted.

"No. Can I please push again?"

She nodded and then realized he couldn't see her that well. She put her hands on his butt and pulled.

Sam almost came when her pussy relaxed and then squeezed his dick. He gritted his teeth and the urge passed. Then she put her hands on his butt and pulled. She had gotten lots more open all of a sudden. He slid in another three inches as her hands pulled at him.

She was so hot and slick and she wanted his prick in her.

He blew his cork. He groaned and instinct made him thrust. He only had 2 inches to go and his pubes slammed into hers as his penis spat its first long slippery rope of semen.

"Ohhh fuck," he groaned and his rod rapidly pulsed 4 more times. Each time a shot of cum splashed up against her cervix. It pooled there, with nowhere to go. Then, as he pulled back a little and pushed again, he created pressure and that pressure blew all his cum up into her womb.

JEMMA · #23 26-05-2018, 09:26 AM

Chrissy couldn't believe how the pressure had turned into something else. Her brother's penis had looked smooth and straight, but with it up inside of her she could feel bumps and lumps all over it. They rubbed the inside of her pussy in the nicest way. She thought she might pass out, it felt so good. Then, just as a different kind of pressure started to build, a pressure that felt like it was going to make her fly apart, he grunted and she felt his warm wet offering being pumped into her belly.

Sam was done. His dick was already getting smaller and he pulled it out of his sister with a squelching wet sound as he rolled sideways onto his back.

"Sam!" she said, her voice rising. "No ... Sam .. don't stop now. We're not done yet Sam!" she said. She knew she had been so close to something new, something fabulous, something really wonderful. She ached with the need to find out what that was.

"Boys!" came the disgusted voice of her father. He was walking toward them now. His hands were moving at his waist. "Don't worry baby, I'll help you," he said as he unbuckled his belt.

"Daddy, I feel so ... " she said as she writhed on the blanket, spread out before him. Her pussy glistened in the moonlight. It was matted and white with her brother's spend.

"I know sweetheart. He left you hanging. I'm going to help you honey." He crawled between her legs. He kissed her. Like in the movies. He was a better kisser even than Sam! She felt something blunt at her pussy mouth. She knew it was his cock. As he pushed into her, she thrust her hips up off the blanket, trying to make her pussy climb up her daddy's penis. It was bigger than Sam's, but she was very slick now, and, except for the pressure again, it went in without too much trouble. It went deeper too. It pushed against things up inside of her.

Stephen savored the feel of his cock buried in sweet hot teenage pussy. There was just nothing better than sweet young pussy. He hoped he could control his own orgasm. He needed to make her cum, hopefully more than once. If he did, he would be able to come back to her and she would happily let him do it again.

He began stroking his boner in and out of his daughter. He made sure it scraped along her clitty. He could only made 7 or 8 strokes when she had her first orgasm.

Just as soon as her daddy put his big old cock in her pussy all the way, Chrissy knew that the feeling she was looking for would come back. Her daddy did it different than Sam. He moved it in and out. And when he did she felt the most amazing thing. It was at the top of her pussy, and it was a feeling that she thought might make her scream.

The pressure was back.

It got bigger and bigger and bigger until she couldn't hold it in any more. Then she shuddered and her whole body felt like it was on fire and in ice water at the same time. It started in her pussy as a big warm ball of fire and then shot out to the rest of her like fireworks. She couldn't talk.

"Uhhh. Unnggg ... Ahhhh ... Daddy ... Ohhh .. Ummm ... Ahhh ... AAHHH ... AHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!" she wailed.

She felt the feeling fade away a little bit, but her daddy kept pounding into her and it started coming back again. She tripped into a second orgasm, just as intense as her first. She gasped for breath and made blubbering sounds. Her head flailed back and forth on the blanket until her face was covered with her hair. It just felt too good to describe. And it was coming back again!

Stephen slammed her through 3 orgasm before her hands began pushing at him, flailing weakly. She was gasping. "No more ... Daddy ... please ... I ... can't ... breathe ..." He slid in tight and stopped, to let her breathe. Her pussy fluttered weakly around his cock. She felt good and he liked soaking in her hot box.

He wanted to cum, though. Her pussy nipped him as she flexed her newfound muscles.

"Can you do that again, Baby?" he asked her. "Can you squeeze me?" She did, once long and hard, and then again, short. "Ohhhh baby," he said in a throaty voice. "If you keep doing that I'm gonna cum."

Chrissy felt much better. Since he'd stopped moving in her she had a chance to catch her breath. "Can you cum with practice sperm too Daddy?"

Stephen grinned. He knew without a doubt that either he or his son would be knocking Chrissy up good an proper within 2 or 3 months. She was a super good fuck and he intended to pack her with baby batter daily all by himself. He suspected Sam would be sniffing around her pussy too.

"Sure, baby," he said. No sense making her tense. She began to flex and loosen those new muscles and it was like being milked.

"Okay, daddy," she said. "You can shoot your sperm in me."

Just that statement made his balls jump and started his baby makers on their way toward his daughter's uterus. He had enough control to force almost all of his cum into two massive jets that blasted out of the tip of his penis like water out of a super pump-up water cannon. He jammed his cock deep and put the tip right at her cervix and let his seed flow.

Again Chrissy felt the wet heat that was a man trying to impregnate her. This time she recognized it for what it was. Her daddy was cumming inside her pussy. She loved that feeling. It felt all warm and nice and close. She decided she would see if maybe her Daddy would cum in her again.

Stephen drained himself and eased his prick out of Chrissy. They got dressed and drive back to the house more or less in silence, each with his or her own thoughts. When they got home, though, Chrissy held her father's hand as they went in the house. "Daddy? Could I sleep in your bed tonight?"

Stephen smiled. "Sure, baby, but I might try to help you again during the night. Like on the blanket."

"That would be okay," she said.

Later, in bed, after she had cum 3 more times and he had fucked another cup of his potent sperm in her teen pussy she kissed him and said, "So all the boys want to do that on dates?"

"That's pretty much right, sweetie. And I can't let them do that to my baby girl."

"So I still can't go out on dates?"

"I don't think so, honey," he said.

She was quiet for a while. "That's okay," she said finally. "With you and Sam being here, I don't need to go out on dates. I can get all the dating I need right here at home."

It only took them one month to knock her up.

END

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JEMMA · #24 28-05-2018, 09:41 PM

Chapter One

"Daddy?"

I was sitting at the computer, finishing up some work. I turned to look at Chrissy, my 17 year old daughter and one of the lights of my life. Her brother, Sam, was the other one. He was in his 8th week of basic training at Gilman Heights, in what he called the scenic Ozarks in the one phone call he had been allowed so far. He said he had finally found that place everybody talks about where you can't see the forest for the trees. The locals all called it "Fort Lost-in-the-woods."

"What's up, Baby?" I asked. She looked worried. In fact, now that I looked at her more closely, she appeared to have been crying. "What's wrong?" I asked, worriedly. Parents always fear the worst for their children and since Judy had left us to "find herself" I was doing double duty in the parent department.

"I think I made a mistake," she said, her voice sounding very young.

"OK," I said. I had images of her having broken something. I just waited for her to go on.

"Please don't hate me, Daddy," she pleaded.

"I might get mad, Chrissy, but you know I could never hate you."

"Maybe you could," she said. A tear ran down one cheek.

"Just tell me, baby," I urged.

Her fists clenched, and then released. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Finally she blurted it out.

"I think I might be pregnant."

As I said, parents always fear the worst. Usually, the 'worst' involves some horrible disease, or drugs, or prison or something that unalterably changes a promising life into something more along the lines of a trial. But this one caught me off guard. I mean I knew she was a vibrant young woman, not gorgeous, but awfully attractive ... in ways a father isn't really supposed to view her. And while there had always been an undercurrent of uneasiness in my thoughts since she'd started looking more like a woman than a girl, I knew she was sensible with boys. We'd had several conversations about boys.

OK, I had given her several lectures about boys.

But she had taken them pretty well. I suddenly remembered one such time when her response had been "I know what boys want, Daddy, and I know how to handle them. Don't worry."

Of course I had still worried. I wasn't happy that it turned out I had been justified in that concern.

"You think you might be pregnant," I said. Denial is always the first step.

"I missed my period last month," she said, her voice trembling. "And I'm late again now."

I remembered how Judy had acted when she got pregnant both times.

"Nausea in the morning?" I asked.

She looked at me peculiarly. "No."

"Any vaginal discharge? Are your breasts tender?"

Her cheeks stained red. At least she wasn't crying any more. "Daddy!" she moaned. I raised my eyebrows. "No," she finally said.

"I'll call the doctor," I said.

"No, Daddy! I don't want anybody to know!"

"Sweetheart, believe me, if you're pregnant, in a couple more months everybody's going to be able to tell. This isn't something you can keep secret."

She slumped. "I know. It's just that ..." She trailed off.

I was surprised at the fact that I felt sorry for her ... kind of. I mean it takes two to tango. That led to the realization that she had ... tangoed. I looked at her again, this time with male eyes instead of Daddy eyes. At 5-6 or 7 she looked a little taller because she had the slim body of the cross country runner that she was ... had been. She bought her own clothes, and did her own laundry so I didn't know her sizes, but I estimated her to be maybe 34 or a little bigger in the bust. Her breasts rode high on her chest. Standing there in jeans and a T shirt her legs looked long and slim. There was nothing about her appearance that suggested she was with child. Her hair was down now, though she often had it up in a pony tail.

"Who's the father?" I asked, eager to find out who I was going to have to kill.

"I can't tell you," she said. She looked scared again.

"Can't ... or won't?" I didn't want to even think about the possibility that she didn't know, but it was one of the options and couldn't be ignored.

She dithered again and the tears were back. "Won't ... I guess," she said.

"But you know," I said. The inference that she might not know was clear.

She looked surprised and then something like shock or maybe anger flitted across her face.

"I'm not a slut, Daddy!" she yipped.

"Well that's good," I said. I wasn't sure exactly how I felt, to be honest.

"I only did it once," she complained.

"Once is all it takes," I said. "I seem to remember saying that, one time or another."

"I knoooow," she moaned. "It was an accident. Things just got crazy and it just sort of happened."

"I seem to remember telling you about that too," I said tightly.

That's what had happened with Judy and me too, though I hadn't told our children that. When Judy told me she was pregnant I did the right thing, which turned out to be the wrong thing. Judy and I were never really in love. We tried, but you can't force that kind of thing. That brought to mind another question.

"Do you love him?" Yet another question popped into my mind. "Does he love you?" Then I realized both were stupid questions. How would they know? Whoever he was they were both too young to know whether what they felt was really love or simply lust.

"Yes," she said. She said it with that firmness youth have when they think they know what they're talking about. Of course in reality they are probably clueless.

"Well, I guess we'll see about that," I said. "Have you told him?"

"No." Now there was a wary edge in her voice. "Aren't you going to get mad and yell at me?"

"Trust me, baby," I said wearily. "That won't make you un-pregnant." I sighed.

My daughter must have heard something unsaid because she backed up. "I won't get an abortion, Daddy."

I didn't know how to feel about that either. I hadn't even thought of that until she brought it up. I knew I should think about that, but the concept wasn't attractive to me on the face of it. There would be time to think about that later, if need be.

"First, let's find out if you really are pregnant," I said. "We can decide what to do after that."

"I won't get an abortion, Daddy," she said again.

I already knew she would inherited her mother's gene for stubbornness. I also knew that she had a lot of thinking to do ... whether she was pregnant or not.

We both did.

extremez · #25 28-05-2018, 10:52 PM

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JEMMA · #26 29-05-2018, 09:14 AM

She was pregnant. The doctor delivered the news in a peculiarly flat and unemotional voice, like he was trying to be as neutral as possible. He looked at Chrissy.

"You're in good health. You'll need to come back for regular checkups, depending on what you decide to do.

"I'm not getting an abortion," she said firmly.

"Tell the nurse I want to see you again in two weeks," said the doctor, without blinking an eye. "She'll have some pamphlets for you about vitamins and exercise and a proper diet. Read them, Chrissy. This is a stressful time in your life and it can affect your health ... and the health of the baby. Your job for the next seven months is to take care of yourself and your baby." He looked her straight in the eye.

"I will," she said, seeming to relax.

It was very quiet on her side of the car as we drove home. Actually, it was pretty quiet on my side too. It was beginning to sink in. I was going to be a grandfather. At 36 I was going to be a grandfather. It didn't make me feel any better that I'd actually be 37 when he or she actually made an appearance. I looked over at Chrissy.

"You sure you want to do this?"

She looked back and her eyes glistened.

"Yes, Daddy. I have to have this baby."

"You need to tell the father," I said, wishing I didn't have to say it. I hated the little bastard who had done this to my little girl. I hoped he choked on the next French fry he crammed in is mouth.

"I can't," she said. The tightness was back in her voice. "He can't do anything about it."

I had a horrifying thought. "Don't tell me he's married," I groaned.

"He's not married!" she said quickly.

"Then why can't we tell him?" I moaned. "Help me out here, Chrissy!"

"I can't, Daddy," she said softly. "You have to trust me."

"I have to trust you," I repeated angrily. "Isn't that what I've been doing the last 4 or 5 years? I trusted you not to get pregnant, didn't I?"

"Please, Daddy," she said. I could hear sobs building up inside her.

I thought about what the doctor had said. All I was doing was adding to her stress level.

"OK, sweetheart," I said, trying to force myself to relax. "I love you, no matter what happens. We're in this together."

She did cry then, but it was the good kind of crying. I actually felt a little better. Little did I realize how prophetic my words were. I did love her.

And we'd be in it together in ways I had no concept of. Not then, anyway.

It's kind of strange when you're trying to prepare for your whole world to change, but the change comes so slowly. It was different, somehow, than when Judy and I had been waiting for her to give birth. Maybe that's because Judy was supposed to have a baby. In her case, the anticipation was part of the fun.

But Chrissy wasn't supposed to have a baby. Not yet.

So for the first couple of weeks or so there was still some tension between my daughter and me. She took the doctor's instructions both literally and seriously. She checked out books at the library and spent a lot of time on the internet getting educated. She started eating better, which meant I started eating better too.

As a CPA I ran my business from home. I could pretty much work when I wanted to, unless it was tax time. It was July, though, so the crush was over and I could take it easy for a while.

About a week after the doctor's visit she came into my home office again. She was dressed for a run.

"I need somebody to run with me," she said. "Sam was doing it to get ready for the Army, but now he's gone and I'm tired of running alone. Will you come with me?"

"You're going to run?" I asked skeptically. "In your condition?"

"My condition," She stressed the second word "doesn't prevent me from doing any of the things I'm used to. Not yet. The experts say that you should keep doing the things you normally do, including exercise. You're out of shape, Daddy. You should come with me."

"Why would an old man like me want to publicly embarrass himself by lurching along, gasping for air, looking like I'm chasing after a cute young girl?" I asked.

"I'll take it easy on you," she said. "Come on. I don't want to run by myself. You said we were in this together."

There it was. She was testing me. We still hadn't said more than half a dozen sentences about the fact that she was a woman now, whether she wanted to be or not. My grandchild was developing in that barely pooching belly of hers and she was taking him (I don't know why I decided it was a him, but I did,) along for the ride. And she wanted grandpa along for the ride too.

"Do you know CPR?" I asked, standing up.

She laughed. "You're not that old, Daddy. Or that out of shape."

"Tell it to the coroner," I groused.

I got changed and off we went.

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JEMMA · #27 30-05-2018, 10:21 AM

It turned out we were able to "talk" about things while we ran. I suspect that's because she would have had no trouble reciting the address while she ran. I, on the other hand, husbanded every breath. That meant I stayed silent, for the most part. Maybe she knew that would happen.

"I love this baby," she said after the first half mile. She really was taking easy on me, just loafing along while I stretched every ligament in my legs trying to keep pace with her.

"That's good," I huffed.

"And even though I can't tell you about the father, I love him too," she said. "He means almost as much to me as you do."

"Great," That took all the air I had, but it was on the way out of my lungs anyway.

"And I love you for sticking by me, Daddy," she said, looking over at me. "I love you more now than ever before."

"So when ... are you ... going ... to tell ... your mother?" I gasped. That took probably thirty feet to get out, so I left out the part about how her mom, once she got over being furious, would probably help too.

"Don't know," she answered easily. "Did you know she told me not to get married until she was at least fifty."

"Kidding," I gasped.

"Nope," she said. "She said not to make her a grandmother until then."

"Nice." I hoped it sounded as sarcastic as the thought that produced it.

"It's really hard for me to love Mom right now," she said. "She really turned into a bitch."

"Not fair," I panted.

She slowed. "You're kind of red in the face. Let's stop and do some sit-ups."

I wanted to stop. I looked around. We'd gotten exactly six blocks. Half a mile and I was dying. But the thought of all those muscles cradling my grandson jerking around while she did sit-ups was bothersome.

"Sit-ups good?" I said in what would have sounded like pidgin English to a casual observer.

"Would you stop worrying?" she said. "I did my homework. Sit-ups are fine for a long time yet. You're just not supposed to start doing things you never did before."

She picked a grassy area and stopped, lying down and telling me to hold her ankles. I was all for that, because it involved not moving a lot. I got in to position and she started smoothly sitting up and then lowering herself back down in a measured, easy cadence.

Her running shorts were loose.

She wasn't wearing anything under them.

I discovered this when, completely innocently, I glanced at the area of my daughter's body that had so recently, relatively speaking, been trespassed upon. There it was, in all its bare glory. Just looking at those tight closed pussy lips, under a fringe of hair that was decidedly darker than her head hair, you couldn't tell that some little prick's ... well ... prick ... had slid between them, only to spurt a baby into her sweet, young belly. It was good she was counting, because if she'd been talking I wouldn't have heard a thing she said.

I felt bad, staring at my daughter's sexual opening, until I rationalized that it had already been seen by another male, who got a lot closer to it than I was. That brought on completely unwanted visions of her, lying on a bed somewhere, with a faceless guy on top of her, his butt rising and falling.

I had the sudden realization that I hadn't worn anything under my shorts either. I hadn't owned a jock strap since college, and who wears boxers under gym shorts, you know? I had this realization as I felt fresh air caressing my stiff cock. Now when had that happened? The epiphany that I'd gotten hard looking at my own daughter's pussy about laid me low. It was embarrassing, more than anything. I didn't feel like a pervert, exactly. I mean those pussy lips had been involved in having sex! And part of me was just plain male. And she did have a very pretty pussy.

Her hands came off of the back of her head and went down behind her to hold herself up. "Your turn," she said.

I managed to adjust things so that my traitorous penis was lying on my belly as I got into position. During the first three sit-ups it occurred to me that my shorts were kind of loose too, but she was looking at my face, counting for me since I wasn't doing any counting myself. I sat up a grand total of eight times before my stomach muscles rebelled. I didn't go up smoothly either. I sort of lurched up and then flopped back, thumping onto the grass until I couldn't lurch any more.

"You're in terrible shape, Daddy," she scolded me. "We're going to have to do this a lot more.

"I'm not having a baby," I complained.

"True," she said, standing up and staring down at her pitiful father. "But you said we're in this together."

I rolled to my side and staggered up. She grabbed my elbow and helped me.

For the next half mile she ran circles around me. I mean literally. She ran in circles while I ran straight. It was all, "You're doing good, Daddy!" and, "Keep going, Daddy!" and "We're going to get you in good shape, Daddy!" About the time I was ready to snap at her I realized the house was up ahead. She'd taken us around some route she knew.

When we got to the yard she started running in place.

"I'm going to go another couple of miles," she said, still not breathing hard. "You need to get in a hot bath and soak."

"Who's the parent here?" I groused.

"I am," she said promptly. She patted her belly. "Or I will be. I'm just practicing." She grinned at me. "Do what I said. You'll feel better and you won't be as sore."

"Yes Ma'am," I sighed.

Then she was off, and this time she was really running. I'd seen her run during meets, of course, but it was different after having run with her. That girl could run, let me tell you that.

That became the pattern for us. She ran every day, but started me out on an every other day schedule. She ran me until she could see I needed a break and then we did sit-ups, or maybe a few pushups. I felt better when I could do more of those than she could, but I shouldn't have been surprised, really. I had the muscle. I had just let it get all flabby.

I know you're wondering if I kept sneaking peeks at her. OK, I did. She never wore anything under her shorts. And I'm a man, so sue me. I only peeked. It's not like I was doing anything other than looking.

OK, I masturbated when we got home. There. I admit it.

I have to explain something here. I've always been turned on by a pregnant woman. There's something about such women that fires up the part of me that wants to reproduce. And if a woman is pregnant, that is prima facie evidence that she wants to reproduce too. I know it sounds silly, but the only women you can just look at and know have welcomed a man between their legs are the pregnant ones. I suppose you could say that about any mother too, though it's not quite as obvious. At least to me. Maybe that's what fires up all those MILF lovers.

So it wasn't odd that the more Chrissy showed, the more often I ended up with an unwelcome erection. She was so full of joy about her impending motherhood, and she had that glow that you hear about pregnant women having. She was vivacious, and sexy, and before long I no longer blamed whoever the son of a bitch was who knocked her up. I mean if I hadn't been her father I couldn't have resisted her either. Well, you know what I mean. Anyway, that's why I didn't feel so horribly bad about masturbating after seeing my daughter's only-once-but-extremely-well-fucked pussy.

The first burp in the happiness that settled over our household was when Sam called and gave me the date of his graduation from advanced individual training, at the end of boot camp. He had signed up to be a military policeman, for who knows what reason, and was all gung ho and grown up sounding. He wanted us to come to his graduation.

When I told Chrissy, she wasn't happy.

"I can't go," she said. She looked unhappy for the first time in weeks.

She was then four months pregnant. You could tell if she wore something tight, but in loose clothes she could still pass for un-pregnant.

"You didn't tell Sam yet, did you," I suggested.

"No, and I can't."

"Why not? He's not going to yell at you any more than I did," I said.

"He's got things on his mind already," she said. "I don't want him worrying about me while he's trying to get through school."

"Why would he worry about you?" I asked. "He knows I'm here taking care of you."

"I just can't tell him, OK?" She sounded angry, but she looked pale. "You don't understand."

"You're afraid he'll go AWOL and come home and go looking for the father," I said. "Now that he's almost an MP maybe you're right."

"Yes," she said. "And he'd get in all kinds of trouble. You go. College's about ready to start. Just tell him that I had to start school and couldn't come."

"His graduation is this Friday. College doesn't start for another week," I pointed out.

"He won't know that," she said. "Just tell him I love him and I'm proud of him."

"OK," I said, with some reserve. "You're going to have to tell him sooner or later, you know."

"I'll deal with that when it happens," she said.

It was amazing how she could be so grown up about all this in some ways, and so much of a little girl in others. But this was part of the deal, and she was right that he'd worry about her.

Chrissy thought she had all the bases covered by swearing me to secrecy. And I kept the secret when I went to possibly the hottest, muggiest place on the face of the earth and watched my son graduate. He graduated with honors, which I didn't understand the significance of, but then I expected him to do well anyway.

It was the change in his physical appearance that was the most shocking. He looked taller somehow, though I knew he couldn't have grown taller in just sixteen weeks. He had the appearance of a man who spent a lot of time outdoors, with tanned skin and sun-bleached hair. He also looked like a young lion, broad-shouldered, confident, ready to take on anything. He was a man now, and it was obvious. What was funny was that he noticed the improvement in my condition.

"Man, Dad," he said when he waded through the crowd of well wishers to where I was standing. "I almost didn't recognize you. What's Chrissy been feeding you? Where is she?" He looked around.

"She had to start College," I lied. "She said I have to tell you she loves you and that she's sorry she couldn't be here. She's also proud of you. She's been making me run with her," I said. "And our diet is better."

"That explains it," he sighed. "I know what it's like trying to keep up with her on a run." He laughed an exuberant, happy laugh. "I can't wait to get home. She's never going to see it coming until I smoke her. I can run ten miles now, and maintain the first eight at six minutes a mile. For once I'm going to leave her in the dust."

"Get home?" I was confused.

"I get leave before I have to report in to my new duty station," he said. "They're sending me to Fort Canning. I get two weeks off. All I need to do is pick up my gear and you can take me home."

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JEMMA · #28 31-05-2018, 09:50 AM

Chapter Two

While I was driving Sam home I still kept the secret. I don't know why, since it was going to bust wide open the instant he saw her. Or the instant he hugged her, anyway. When she gave me a hug nowadays there was obviously something pressing against my stomach.

But I had told her she was going to have to tell him sooner or later. I guess it was going to be sooner.

On the way I heard all about basic and what he call O.C.T. It was different than I had thought it would be. They got a lot less law enforcement than I expected, and a lot more security type instruction.

His appetite hadn't suffered. While I avoided fast food these days, he was ravenous for it. We stopped at a Kenny's and he ordered three entrees off the menu, with what looked like heaps of tater tots and a 44 ounce drink. He ate while I drove.

I don't think there was anything left after about ten miles.

I had my cell phone with me, but I guess it just never occurred to me to call Chrissy and warn her Sam was coming home.

When I pulled in the driveway it was after midnight, and there were no lights on in the house. I was pretty bushed. I guess I assumed Sam would see her ... and find out ... the next morning.

That's not quite how it worked out.

I had just gotten in bed when Chrissy screamed "Sam! What are you doing here?"

There was some shushing sounds and then the hallway lit up a little bit as somebody turned on a light. I guess he'd left the door open when he went in to wake her up and tell her he was home. His voice was the next thing I heard.

"What the fuck?" It was a very strained, loud, but at the same time he was obviously trying to be quiet. Then a little louder "Why didn't you tell me?"

I heard Chrissy's voice and winced. I'd told her she'd have to face this.

"Fuck, Chrissy!" came Sam's voice, again trying to be quiet, and failing. It was the next thing he said that made me sit up in bed: "What are we going to do?!"

You know how something happens that doesn't make sense, and you know it should make sense, but it just doesn't and there's nothing you can do to figure it out, and then one little detail makes it all come clear? Something about the way he said that just turned a light on in my brain and illuminated everything. I didn't like what I saw, because in that light that faceless male who had plagued my dreams ... the one hunched over my baby girl, getting her pregnant ... turned out to be my son. I just knew it, somehow. I didn't want to believe it, but there was that note in his voice that just said it. What are "we" going to do? He should have said, "What are you going to do."

I had no idea what to do. I knew I should get up and go confront them. But what if I was wrong? You can accuse your kids of a lot of things and get away with it ... but accusing them of incest ... and being wrong about it? I knew that would turn out badly. In fact, either way it was going to turn out badly. And, to be honest, I just didn't want to know right then. I was in shock.

So I didn't get up.

I should have. I don't think I slept at all that night, as tired as I was from the trip. I did had some clues. But it just wasn't something I would contemplated.

I contemplated the hell out of it now. They had always been close. They didn't fight and feud like a lot of siblings do. And when Judy had taken off, they would sought comfort in each other's company. I would have known that ... I just didn't know how much comfort they could have sought.

I spent some time trying to convince myself I should have known, somehow. Then I went through a period of doubt. What if that closeness I did seen simply meant that, like me, Sam considered himself as just being in this with her. He was her brother, and he felt responsible for making sure she was all right. How could I have just assumed the worst? I spent a lot of time that night thinking about what a pathetic father I had been ... was.

Then, about five in the morning, I realized two things.

The first was that Sam hadn't stormed into my room wanting to know why I hadn't told him.

The second was that I didn't hear the front door slam as he left the house to go find the son of a bitch who had knocked up his sister, and kill him.

Those two little facts solidified my suspicions, but by then hours had passed, and it was too late to do any kind of confrontation that would do anybody any good.

I must have dozed, because when I opened my eyes the sun was up. I felt like shit. I got up at the insistence of my bladder and looked at the wreck in the mirror when I was done. I didn't even have the urge to shave.

I wondered if they were still in the house. Then I panicked as I thought about the possibility that they had fled together, to avoid my wrath. I didn't feel very wrathful. My state of mind was more in the realm of confusion than anger. Several times during the night I thought about how, over the last couple of months when I got the chance, I stared at my daughter's pussy. True, Sam had done more than look ... but how big a difference was it really? I had gotten hard for her. I would had some fantasies as I jacked off, replacing that faceless man with myself.

When I entered the kitchen I know I must have been a little wild-eyed. I was a bit frantic, fearing that I had lost both my kids. But Chrissy was standing at the stove, cooking something, just like it was a normal day. Sam was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, reading the paper. A sound of agonized relief came from my throat and they both looked over at me.

Maybe it was the look on my face. Maybe they just wanted to get it over with. For whatever reason Sam stood up and just said, "Dad, I'm the one who got Chrissy pregnant."

Just like that.

I know I stood there looking stunned, but the absolutely outrageous thing was the reason I was so stunned. I had spent the last two months hating the man who got my daughter pregnant. I could had a basically sleepless night of torture as I contemplated accusing my kids of incest. Never mind that there are a dozen or more cultures in the world that are just fine with that behavior. Ours wasn't one of them. But the reason I was stunned at that moment was because I felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

It was very complicated, now that I think back on it. Part of the relief, as I said before, was because they were both still there. But the complicated part was that I was actually relieved that it had been Sam who she had parted her legs for. I loved Sam, and I loved her, and it was impossible in those few moments to hate either of them. It was impossible even to be unhappy with them. Later on I had worry about things that everybody worries about when incest produces a baby, but at that moment in time I was elated that it was Sam's baby in that gently swelling belly, instead of some stranger's.

Which explains why I blurted, "Thank goodness!"

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JEMMA · #29 01-06-2018, 10:16 AM

I don't know how much later it was that I fully came to my senses. There was a lot of noise going on in that room. Somehow we had all come together in a group hug, and all three of us were talking at the same time. We were all crying too. It was a surreal kind of situation to find one's self in, and I'm sure they both felt that way too.

At any rate, eventually a sort of halting story came out. He had been getting ready to go off to basic training. She was worried about him. His girlfriend had broken up with him, angry that he was leaving her for the Army. Chrissy was scared that something would happen to him. He probably was too, though he had never have admitted it. So they were both strung out emotionally and a hug had turned into something wild and passionate as each tried to express the depth of feeling for the other. He would kissed away her tears and, at some point in the process, his lips had brushed hers. They were overwhelmed with feelings that demanded more until suddenly they were on the bed and their clothes were coming off.

Afterwards they tried to make sense of what they had done. He had taken her virginity. At the time she hadn't cared. In the aftermath they felt guilty, but at the same time it had been undeniably precious to both of them. Neither had had time to process the storm of emotion because Sam had left the next day.

I remembered the mood in the house that morning, as I got ready to take him to the airport. I could had my own feelings to deal with as I sent my son off to an unknown future. I would completely missed that part of the somber mood that was the result of lovers torn apart.

Finally the surge of emotions began to wane and we were left there in the kitchen with a big invisible question mark filling the room.

What was going to happen now?

Society puts expectations on its citizens. As a result, the citizens put expectations on themselves. It's all supposed to affect behavior. Then things like love, passion, imagination and even hormones have an effect on behavior that conflict with society' expectations. It can make for a tumultuous life. A lot of it depends on how seriously you take society's strictures. Or maybe it's more to do with whether or not you think you can stay below society's radar.

The next two days were a little like trying to tiptoe barefoot across a room where five pounds of thumbtacks have been spilled. You try to pick a path that seems least likely to result in pain. At the same time, you have to get across the room - go about your routine business.

In other words, it stayed complicated. I was honestly relieved to know who the father of Chrissy's baby was. More to the point, I was relieved that it wasn't somebody other than Sam. But that didn't mean I approved of a resumption of the activity between them that had produced that baby.

I suspect it was just as complicated for them. A man and woman who love each other, and have created life in the woman's womb, can't just clamp off their feelings. I knew that. While the boat of love that Judy and I boarded may have been leaky, the fact that we had created Sam and Chrissy had kept us bailing until the last moment. Even now I still loved Judy on some level.

When she had gone off to "find herself", it became pretty clear what she meant when the divorce papers arrived and the grounds were listed as "irreconcilable differences." The return address turned out to be that of another realtor in her firm. I didn't fight it because, to be honest, if she didn't want me, I didn't want her either. I didn't like her very much, but she was the mother of our children. The bond of father and mother can't ever be broken completely. They might hate each other, but there's still a bond of sorts there.

I didn't spy on them, but my imagination more than made up for that. Their heartfelt hugs and the way they practically cuddled on the couch while we were watching TV made it obvious that they had accepted their new relationship a lot more easily than I could. I remember once walking into the living room to find her leaning back on the couch with her legs spread. He was kneeling between them and had raised her shirt up to bare her bulging belly. His hands were making little figure eights, just caressing the bulge, and he was talking to his baby. The look of love on her face was unmistakable. It was almost jarring to see a big, tough soldier being so gentle.

I wouldn't find out until months later that, for the two weeks Sam was home, they didn't have sex. They wanted to. But everything was too new. They had a lot to think about. And, of course, Sam was leaving again. There was a lot of wistfulness floating around in the house those two weeks.

Along with the oddness of the situation, there were other things that happened that seemed completely normal. They did go running together, for example. When they got back, both were gasping for air like I had been after half a mile that first day I ran with her. I'd never seen Chrissy really out of breath. Her face was red and she stood, bent over, her hands on her knees, just breathing. He was just as winded, though he walked around in circles while he got his breath back. It was clear they had competed. The only thing that complicated that perfectly domestic scene was when, before he headed for the shower, he stopped to give her a lingering kiss on the lips. She put one hand on his stomach and pushed him away from her. "You're sweaty and you stink," she complained.

It was that kind of very normal and very abnormal mixture of behavior that made things seem so complicated.

Another thing that complicated the situation was that Chrissy had to go back to school.

College was one of the things we agonized about. We all knew that, when she showed up pregnant, things would be hard for her. Kids are among the cruelest of human beings. We knew that the baby would be delivered right in the middle of her senior year, which would interrupt her studies. It wasn't going to be easy. That was one reason it was good Sam was there when she first went back. It was also good that everything was out in the open at home, because Sam could support her fully during that first tough week of college.

Then there was a moment of déjà vu as I drove Sam to the airport again and he boarded another plane to fly off to a place 1500 miles away. Chrissy didn't go with us that time, either. She had college.

Chrissy and I settled into the new routine of her being gone most of the day. I got my work done while she was at college so we could spend more time together when she got home. She missed Sam. She did missed him before, but now she could do so completely.

As a result, she ended up cuddling with me in front of the TV. I wasn't Sam, but I was the next best thing.

She was getting bigger and bigger, and it was harder for her to get comfortable. Sometimes she wanted to lie down, with her shoulders and head on my lap. A pillow helped. That was what created the next step in our family's little detour from the straight and narrow, at least as far as society was concerned.

I had to put my hand somewhere, and the most comfortable and natural place to rest it was ... her belly.

The first time I rested my hand there it was a little weird. I hadn't touched her like that before. Because it was weird I started to move my hand somewhere else, but she captured it and held it there with both of her hands. I can't even remember what we were watching on TV.

That became the norm. She just lie there with my hand on her belly, sometimes putting her hands over mine and sometimes not. One night I remembered Sam's hands stroking those figure 8 over her bulge and my hand just sort of copied that. It felt good. My grandson was under there, sleeping, maybe, and it just felt good to stroke him.

The first time he moved under my hand I about freaked out.

"He moved!" I yelped.

Chrissy laughed, because she had been feeling movement for several days. She hadn't said anything because she wasn't sure that it really was the baby moving. Things were getting pretty cramped in there and sometimes her organs moved around a little.

Feeling the baby move became a new game. I had to stroke her belly, trying to spur the little tyke into motion. When movement became more frequent, it was only natural to pull her shirt up to watch the skin bulge and ripple as the baby turned over or kicked or whatever. Several times we could see what was clearly a heel or elbow sliding across under her skin.

December came and Sam got some more leave. He didn't tell us, but surprised us instead, just showing up. He was there when Chrissy got home from college and I thought she had go into labor, as excited as she was. Their kiss left nothing to the imagination, concerning how they felt about each other.

I stood by, the doting grandfather, as they broke that long, passionate kiss and his hands went to explore what was twice as big as when he last felt it.

"He moves all the time now," said Chrissy excitedly. "He's going to be a runner, like me."

"You're so big!" sighed Sam.

"It's your fault," she teased.

Then his hands slid upwards to cup breasts that were half again as big as they had been before.

"These are getting big too," he said, grinning.

I'm pretty sure they had forgotten all about me. I felt like I was a peeping Tom as his hands squeezed her teenaged breasts.

"That's your fault as well," she said softly. "And it's also your fault that I'm horny all the time now.

"Really," he said, leaning down to kiss her again.

I turned to leave the room ... to leave them alone ... and ran smack into the clothes tree standing behind me. It went over and I tried to grab it, but just tipped off balance and went down with it. The next thing I knew my children were pulling coats off of me, laughing.

Sam's second leave was completely different than his first, and I mean completely different. I don't know if it's because they did had time to process the change in their relationship, or maybe because they would both gone without sex for 7 months.

It started with her asking him to put lotion on her belly. He applied himself with vigor. I happened to be doing something on the computer, and I don't know if that had anything to do with the escalation of things, but when I got up to go get something to drink he was putting lotion on her breasts too.

Her shirt was up to her neck and her bra had been undone. I had an errant thought of that Karate Kid movie, because it looked like Sam was doing wax on ... wax off. Chrissy's head was back on the couch and she was humming.

"That feels so much better when you do it," she sighed. "I'm so horny, Sam."

"I can't believe how big your nipples have gotten," he said softly. "The last time I saw them they were little pink things."

"Everything on me is bigger because of you," she said a little breathily.

He leaned forward and sucked a nipple. Her "Oooooo" was followed by her head coming up and our eyes met. She blinked, and then he sucked harder or something because her mouth went slack and her hands came to his head to pull him to her breasts. She made a face and, looking right at me, mouthed the word, "sorry."

I turned away, mostly because my cock was trying like crazy to burst through my pants. As I walked away I heard her say "Sam, Daddy saw you!"

I could just barely hear his response: "Mmmmmmm."

I guess they either got too wound up, or they had come to grips with this new relationship, because maybe 5 minutes later I heard them going into her room, just down the hall from my home office. She said "Sam I don't know if I can!" and he responded "We'll find a way." Her next comment was, "But what about Daddy?" but his reply was cut off by the door closing.

It didn't take a lot of imagination to figure out what they had in mind.

And my imagination should have sufficed ... but it didn't. I lasted another 5 minutes, maybe, before I couldn't help becoming a voyeur. I know that social convention prohibits one from watching others do something like what I was sure they were doing. But social convention prohibits what they were doing in the first place. So I didn't feel all that bad as I tiptoed to the door and cracked it open. I wasn't trying to let them know I was there, but then again, I don't think I cared if they did know.

I didn't intrude. By that I mean I didn't go in the room. I just opened the door enough to see an amazingly beautiful naked, pregnant, young woman, astride an equally amazingly beautiful naked young man. I didn't know then that this was only the second time they had made love. If I had I could have been even more amazed at how proficient she'd become in just 5 minutes. She would settled on his youthful boner and was shoving her hips forward and backward as if she could done this a hundred times before. He was mauling her swollen breasts when I first opened the door, but his hands slid down and became amazingly gentle as they smoothed over her jutting belly.

"Ohhhhh I needed this so badly," she moaned.

"I love you," he whispered. It wasn't clear whether he was talking to the woman impaled on his thrusting rigid prick, or the baby in the belly he was stroking.

JEMMA · #30 02-06-2018, 09:49 AM

Chapter Three

Sam only stayed one week. He explained that he got 30 days of leave a year, and was saving the last week for when she had the baby.

Again, I didn't attempt to pry or spy, but I couldn't help but notice that they spent a lot of time in either his bedroom or hers. I just tried to throw myself into my work. There were frequent stops for self abuse, but that was becoming pretty routine too.

As I look back on it I'm more and more convinced that it was that one brief moment when Sam was first sucking one of her nipples, and her eyes met mine, that brought about another fundamental change in my relationship with Chrissy. She never explained what that mouthed "sorry" meant. It could have meant she was sorry that I had to see it. It might have been that she was sorry they were doing it in 'public.' Only later would I think it might have signaled that she understood that I had sexual needs that were unmet, and that watching her like that might have exacerbated them.

At any rate, as I was to find out later, when Sam left this time Chrissy was a woman who had enjoyed the delights of lovemaking enough that she had developed a taste for it. In fact, it would be more nearly correct to say she now had a hunger for it. And her lover was fifteen hundred miles away. Just as important, having broken the taboo with one man in the family, she saw no reason to honor the taboo with the other man she loved.

This time the change in our relationship was signaled when we were watching TV. Again, she was lying down, using me for a pillow.

"Daddy?" she said.

"Hmmm?"

"Would you put lotion on my belly?"

I balked a bit, and she promptly reminded me that I had said we were in this together. She tossed in that she needed a 奶媽 coach, and that I had been elected to that position. She seemed to think that having me rub lotion on her stomach was part of that deal.

And, of course, I went along with it.

We went to classes, where neither the trainer or the other women thought it was the least bit odd that Chrissy's father was going to be her coach. I guess the instructor had seen it all before, and the other pregnant women simply understood how important it was to have a coach, no matter who it was.

Within two weeks, having my hands on her in what I had known would be an amazingly intimate way, was just the norm. I put lotion on her belly every night while we watched TV.

While it may have been normal, it still affected me. I don't know for a fact that she felt my prick stir under her head, but I don't see any way she could have missed it. She pretty much gave up putting a pillow on my lap, saying it bent her neck uncomfortably, and I pretty much gave up the idea of putting something between her soft hair and my hard prick. Maybe I was already lost by then.

Then, one night, while I rubbed a slippery hand across her wide abdomen and stomach, she reminded me about one of the subjects in class where the women were told about preparing the nipples for nursing. That involved making sure they were well moisturized and pliable so that they wouldn't dry out and crack when she began breast feeding.

Which may be responsible for the fact that I found myself working lotion into both of her nipples too. I don't know why I didn't think of the fact that she could do that part herself. Like I said, I may already have been lost by then. We were still lying there, as if we were watching TV. The TV was on, but again, I have no recollection of what was showing.

I rubbed her breasts for what seemed like hours. Her dark brown nipples strained upwards, protruding from wide areolas almost an inch. The sounds that her throat produced were almost like the purring of a satisfied cat as I squeezed and pulled at those lusty nubs. At one point she labored to sit up, removed her shirt and bra, and laid back down like it was the most normal thing in the world for a pregnant daughter to lie half-naked on her father's lap. Neither of us said a word. I just kept stroking her breasts and playing with nipples that, rather than feeling like pliable flesh, seemed more like they were in the gum eraser family. She writhed on my lap, as if she were having trouble finding a comfortable position to be in.

The next night, when I turned on the TV she just handed me the lotion and then took her shirt and bra off. That became our new routine each night.

A week later, while my fingers toyed with a long, rubbery nipple, she sighed.

"You remember that web site I told you about?" she asked. "The one where there's a chat room for expectant mothers?"

"Hmmmmm," I responded, not really paying attention. She was always informing me of something she had learned on the net or from a book.

"Several of the women were talking about how it's a good idea for someone to suck on a pregnant woman's nipples," she said.

Quite suddenly I was paying attention.

"They say it helps the nipples get prepared for nursing," she added.

"Oh," I said weakly.

"I want them to be ready for the baby, Daddy," she said, looking up at me. "But I need somebody to suck them for me.

I had no idea if the advice she'd gotten on that site was true or not, but I didn't care. I must shamefully admit that I was only too willing to take on that task. We rearranged ourselves on the couch, with her swollen belly pressing against my solar plexus, and those luscious, full breasts right in front of my face.

I think we both groaned when I first took a nipple in my mouth and sucked gently. I also think there were a few minutes when I somehow went back in time, because the next thing I knew I was sucking one, and then the other with the enthusiasm of a starving baby. Her whines made it clear that it was just as delightful for her as it was for me.

"Oh Daddy," she moaned "That makes me so horny, but don't stop, please."

I realized her hand was in the sweat pants she favored because they were stretchy and loose. I ignored the hand, and what it was most likely doing, and simply kept suckling one fat, turgid nipple, and then the other.

A few minutes later her groan signaled something, but I couldn't tell what. It seemed a mixture of passion and frustration.

"I can't reach, Daddy," she moaned. "My belly is too big."

I let an astonishingly elongated nipple slip from between my lips. "Oh baby," I sighed.

"Help me, Daddy," she whined.

I had passed "Go" long before. I hadn't collected $200, and was well on my way to jail if anyone ever found out what was going on between us, not to mention what had gone on between Chrissy and Sam, which I had not stopped. The thought of 'helping' her just didn't seem like that huge of a step.

I know you hate it that the good part is being interrupted here, but I have to say something in my defense. I know a lot of you think that this was all perverted in some way. For sure I had never planned on satisfying my own daughter sexually, because I would have sworn that was perverted too. But this was different somehow. Maybe it was the slow way things progressed, that allowed my formerly conservative mind to adapt and accept things that I had always assumed were wrong.

But the fact was that I loved her, and I loved giving her pleasure. It seemed like such a little thing ... to rub here ... to stroke there ... to hear what was undeniably sounds of joy issue from her lips.

What I'm saying is that it snuck up on me, somehow, and it didn't feel wrong at all! It just felt like love.

Her first orgasm, as my fingers frantically massaged flesh I had only caught glimpses of before, was probably as good for me as it was for her. It seemed like the sensations coming from my lips, still sucking her nipples, were given voice in her throat. Knowing that I was responsible for her cries of joy was electrifying. I didn't cum in my pants or anything like that. In a way it was better than that. When she moaned, "I love you, Daddy," I was quite sure nothing would ever make me feel so wonderful as those few words.

I was wrong, of course.

After that first orgasm, she sagged on me, slowly catching her breath, relaxing more and more until I realized she had fallen asleep, splayed half naked on me like I was her bed. I had an almost painful erection, but I didn't want to disturb her. What made us move was that, being topless, she got cold. I wanted to carry her to bed, but that was ridiculous. Instead, I helped her to her feet where, rather than put her top back on, she sought warmth in my arms.

That our steps took us to my bedroom, instead of hers, shouldn't have surprised me. Neither of us wanted to abandon this warm closeness, and I had a bigger bed. That she had me take off her sweat pants didn't surprise me either. Any thought of being modest around me had flown away as she writhed in orgasm under my lips and fingers.

I went to the bathroom where, within the space of a minute or less, my stroking hand coaxed spurts of hot semen from my prick. I felt almost light headed knowing there was a beautiful naked woman waiting for me in my bed, and that may have contributed to the speed with which my balls gave up their cargo. I was still dribbling just a little as I ran and crawled quickly under covers, pressing against her warm body from behind her, my hand resting on my grandson's gestation chamber.

"Thank you, Daddy," she sighed.

I wasn't sure whether she was talking about the orgasm I'd given her, or that she was in my bed.

But then ... it didn't really matter which it was.

As had happened in the past, the escalation of our sexual behavior towards each other was permanent. Within a week, when she joined me on the couch, I got a kiss on the lips, after which hazel eyes stared into mine and pink lips whispered, "I'm ready for my orgasm, Daddy."

She favored lying down facing me, where her swollen breasts were right in front of my face and my left hand had easy access to her pussy. If I wasn't sucking her nipples while I diddled her, she kissed me. Her lips seemed to be searching for something to eat, nipping at my own lips, or at my chin, her tongue flicking out to lick at whatever she could reach.

Then one night she said that getting up afterwards was undoing all the relaxation that came in the aftermath of her orgasm, and we moved my 'massage' to the bedroom, where she could just fall asleep afterwards. She lay on her back with me beside her. First there was the lotion on her belly. "Junior," which I had taken to calling the unborn tyke, seemed to like the belly rubs too, because he always got more active when I did that. I usually started sucking her nipples while I was spreading the lotion and eventually I'd just slide my oily hand lower to find and torture her clitty. Within a five minutes she'd arch and groan and thank me and tell me how much she loved me.

On this night, though, as I was still in the nipple sucking phase, her hand fell against my boner. It had developed - and I'm still not sure how - that when we got into bed no clothing was required for either of us. Maybe it had something to do with the luscious warmth of skin to skin contact. I'd always had boners when this happened, but she'd never seemed to notice. Even when we spooned and my rigid prick pressed into her firm butt, she'd never said anything.

"Poor daddy," she sighed. "You take such good care of me ... but nobody takes care of you." Her hand gripped my rigid penis gently.

"It's OK," I said, my words slightly muffled by the fact that my lips were pressed to a big, round areola.

"No it's not," she said. "Besides, I need more than just your fingers."

That got my attention.

"Help me up," she said.

"Honey," I said in a daze. "We can't do that, baby." Touching her was one thing. What it sounded like she was proposing was completely different.

"Why not?" she asked. "It's not like you can get me pregnant." She smiled at her little joke.

"We just can't," I said, helplessly. Her hand on my cock felt so good.

"Yes we can," she said. She was already breathing heavily in anticipation, and her eyes were glittering. "Now help me up."

I didn't, but she struggled up anyway, reaching with her free hand to pull on my elbow. Once moving she kept going, letting go of my prick and throwing a leg over me, moving to sit on my thighs as she rolled me onto my back. Her belly pressed against my cock and she shook her hair back, reaching to pull it behind her head as she looked down. Her breasts pulled apart, the nipples looking a little like google eyes.

"I can't see," she complained. Her hand reached and found my prick again. "You'll have to help. I need something hard inside me, daddy."

I caved like a cheap paper bag. Her effect on me was stronger than my own sensibilities. I reached and she raised, using her thighs and her hands on my chest. I stood my prick up and stared at her pussy lips, which were engorged and gaping apart. Notching the tip there almost made me cum right then.

That ejaculation was delayed only by the time it took her to sink down on my cock and sigh, "Oh yeaaaaah." She smiled as I bathed her pregnant pussy with my semen and then giggled. "You're even quicker than Sam."

"Oh fuck," I groaned as my balls found release sweeter than anything I could remember. Her swollen breasts were right there and I pulled her down, lifting my head to suckle as she began rubbing her pussy lips forward and back.

"That's good, Daddy," she moaned. "Just a little bit more."

Her own release came before I was completely soft, and her whine brought life back to my prick as a surge of emotion ripped through me. It was stronger than the orgasm I'd just had. Her belly was rubbing mine and the rippling clasp of her pussy seemed to suck strength back into my penis.

"Oh my," she sighed. "You get hard again quicker than Sam too!"

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