Daughter's Red Wine (reprinted)

[Daughter's Red Wine]

One night, fueled by a little alcohol, I was wildly thrusting into my wife. The saying

"thirty is like a tiger" is absolutely true; my wife was just thirty-three, the perfect age for being fucked. We'd been thrusting for half an hour, and I was getting tired, but she was still full of energy. "I'll fuck you to death!" I said fiercely, increasing the intensity of my movements.

Hearing this, my wife became even more excited. Women over thirty have no shame! I remember in the days leading up to our wedding, when I teased her with dirty words, she punched me hard twice and sternly warned me: "Don't you dare use dirty words again!" But men don't feel satisfied during sex without using a few dirty words. After my wife gave birth, when I teased her like that again, she just smiled, blushed for a moment, but didn't protest anymore. My wife had finally become shameless, and I no longer felt as excited as I used those dirty words. But suddenly, hearing those dirty words from my wife's mouth again stimulated me once more. "Give me a couple more hard thrusts!"—that's how my wife says in a coquettish way when she's not satisfied

. "I'll let you fuck me as much as you want, come on!"—that's how she says sweetly when she's excited. But tonight, when I said that fiercely, she replied, "If you fuck me to death, who will you fuck next? Hehe." My wife knows I'm a decent person; even though we've had money these past two years, I've never messed around outside. Was she trying to provoke me with that?

"Fuck your daughter!" I said. In our rural area, it seems like daughters are born for the mother herself, while sons are born for the father. Daughters grow up to be their mother's little cotton-padded jacket, knowing how to care for them; sons grow up to be the root of the family, carrying on the lineage. So this traditional concept has influenced us to this day, as if daughters really aren't the father's children. It's like this every day; the couple talks about your daughter this and your son that. Actually, what's yours is also mine, but we haven't thought about it carefully. It's been passed down from the older generation, and we're used to it.

"Not your daughter?" It would be fine to say that normally, but saying it now felt a bit too formal to my wife, so she said it with a grin beneath me.

The initial frenzy had subsided, and I slowed down to rest, feeling my penis burning from the friction.

After a moment, my wife said, "Whose family… just like that, her aunt's next-door neighbor…"

My wife only used the phrase "Not your daughter!" to ask me, without showing any offense, and instead gave me examples. I got excited again, excited as I was, but I'd only heard about such things, never actually seen them.

"It's just a rumor, how could it be true?" I said. My penis felt incredibly strong.

"Hehe… that's what her aunt said, she even said she saw her once when she visited."

"Really? Is she her own daughter?"

"Of course she's my daughter!" "

Self-produced and self-consumed," I said. My wife laughed so hard her stomach bulged.

Hearing about things like this is probably exciting for everyone. The intense friction had made my wife's vagina a little sticky and astringent, and with my repeated complete withdrawal and re-entry, it was slightly dry. But when we talked about this kind of thing, I felt like she was getting wet again. I started to increase the pressure, but my mind was on her aunt's neighbor to the east.

"Even if it were true, would they let outsiders see?"

"I didn't see, but her aunt said she did."

"Saw what?" My interest seemed to have shifted away from my wife's vagina.

"Saw her dad just pulling up his pants, and his daughter was naked on the bed, giggling..." My wife's belly swelled up and down again.

"Maybe they were doing something else, they didn't see me actually going in..."

My wife laughed even harder, coughing a few times: "What do you need to do to take off your pants? Hehe..."

"The daughter is willing, that's good!"

"She's definitely willing." My wife still agreed with me, not changing the subject.

"How do you know she's willing? Is your dad like that too?" I teased her with a laugh.

"Just fart!" My wife never said "You fart!" She always said "Just fart."

“No need to say anything, I just noticed your older sister and your dad…”

“How did you figure that out?” I didn’t expect my wife to ask that. Actually, I didn’t see anything particularly unusual, it’s just that sometimes when her older sister talks to her dad, there’s a certain something about them not acting like father and daughter…

“How could I not see it!” I teased her. Actually, even if she hadn’t brought this up tonight, I wouldn’t have guessed this.

“What did you see?” My wife moved the pillow, letting my head rest on the sweat-soaked pillow, and said with a grin, “What’s wrong with you tonight? Are you really trying to fuck me to death?”

I didn’t check the time, but it definitely lasted longer than usual, at least forty or fifty minutes.

“Anyway, it’s not normal.” I tested the range of my thrusts to keep it in good shape, giving her a hard thrust every now and then. Then I went back to the previous topic.

After a while, my wife was silent, and I knew she was thinking about what I had said.

“Oh my god! What’s wrong with you? It’s still so hard!”

“Isn’t it abnormal?”

“Nothing’s wrong, nothing’s wrong. A little harder.” My wife said smugly.

"I'm asking about your older sister and your dad."

"Hehehe... I... I don't know... I was still young then... I don't know if..." my wife stammered.

"If what? Your dad and your older sister?"

"I don't know... Anyway, one rainy day, Dad sent me out to play, but didn't ask my older sister to go out. I came back after a short while, and Mom told me to cook, but usually she calls my older sister... Ugh—you're so mean!..."

"Don't you like this?" As I prepared for my final thrust, my wife started panting.

"Where... your older sister?"

"Um... um... um—..." My wife couldn't answer, moaning incessantly.

"Your dad was fucking your older sister on the bed?" I thrust into her with immense excitement.

"...Fuck..." My wife started lifting her buttocks to meet my thrusts.

I finally reached my climax: "Is that right?... If you don't tell me... I'll shoot in your mouth..."

My wife nodded, unable to speak.

I thought she admitted it, but she opened her mouth and said passionately, "Come..." It turned out that her nod meant she agreed to let me shoot in her mouth.

Good wife! Such opportunities are rare, only two or three times a year. It seems my wife is truly aroused tonight; women are willing to accept anything during pleasure. I pulled out, moved my body, and my wife welcomed me. I stroked it, keeping it aroused inside her.

My wife caught every drop… After she finished vomiting, I hugged her, wanting to hear her finish her story.

“What a waste!”

“Hehehe…it didn’t taste good at all.”

“Did you hear that?”

“What?” My wife coughed, as if she had ejaculated inside.

“Your older sister…”

“I…I’m not sure…anyway, there was some noise on the bed…I was young then…thinking about it now…who knows…”

“Definitely.”

“You naughty thing! It’s none of your business! Don’t even think about it!”

“Think about what?”

“I know what you’re thinking!”

"What am I thinking?"

"Hehe... Anyway, don't think about it."

If I don't want to think about it, I don't really want to. But I've heard plenty of these kinds of things, whether it's men joking about it while drinking or women gossiping, it's hard to tell if it's true or not. Talking about it is just for the thrill; whether anyone actually dares to go home and put it into practice, nobody knows. Of

course, I don't want to think about those kinds of things, but when a family lives together, some things are unavoidable. For example, going to the outhouse. When I was a child, in our rural area, we usually just fenced off a corner of the yard and dug a hole—that was the outhouse. These days, things are better; we have more proper outhouses. But no one in the family can guarantee they won't encounter that kind of embarrassing situation, whether I'm in it or my daughter is in it.

But maybe I shouldn't have looked down at my daughter's genitals. Actually, it wasn't intentional. If my wife were squatting in there, it wouldn't be so noticeable when I went in. Her pubic hair is black, her genitals are black, it's not very obvious unless you look closely, and I didn't have the intention to look there. It wasn't like the first few days after we got married, when I was scrutinizing my wife's genitals every night.

My daughter was squatting inside, and there was no need to deliberately distinguish it; the sight of her white and pink skin was quite conspicuous. So what if she saw it? What father hasn't seen his own daughter?

When I was in there, I always held a newspaper, reading advertisements while trying to cover myself in case my daughter suddenly came in. During the day, it was fine; generally, it wouldn't get hard when I needed to relieve myself. But mornings were a different story, and that was the busiest time for the outhouse—my wife, son, and daughter. So, unless it was urgent, I usually got up late, not getting out of bed until the children were almost at school.

Even so, an embarrassing thing still happened. That morning, I clearly heard both children leave for school. I came out of the house with my pants still bulging, and hurriedly ran to the outhouse. My wife probably didn't know if anyone was inside and didn't warn me.

Before I even reached the door, I pulled it out and stepped in, still erect… My daughter, Tingting, was squatting there. There wasn't even time to hide or dodge; I could only turn away.

I felt so ashamed! Fortunately, my daughter wasn't "scared." She left before I even finished urinating.

"Why haven't you left yet? I thought you'd already left," I heard her mother say outside.

"Hehe... my dad's so shameless!" my daughter laughed as she came out of the house.

"I thought they'd both left," I explained to my wife as I came out of the outhouse.

"My daughter's got a real treat this time!" my wife said, laughing as she took some rice from the pot for me. I knew she'd seen me in that state. As I got off the bed, she glanced at my erection, smiling, because she'd already enjoyed herself that night. I

felt uneasy all day, too ashamed to face my daughter. How could she have seen me like that? I can only look at hers; she can't see mine. My eleven-year-old daughter already has her period, so early! My wife says she started when she was thirteen and a half. My daughter and her father don't talk much anymore now that she's on her period. Sometimes I overhear her telling her mother her stomach hurts again, and I know she's started her period.

It's not just my daughter who complains about stomach aches; my wife often says she has too. I jokingly say, "You're too easy to fuck!" My wife is at the age where her sex drive is at its peak. When I said that, she retorted: "If you're so capable, why don't you come every night?"

"Damn it! I can't stand it anymore. Things have turned out differently over the years. When we first got married, I wanted it every night, sometimes several times a night. She was terrified and often ran back to her parents' house to avoid being fucked. Back then, I didn't know I had a father-in-law like that. If I had known, I wouldn't have let her go back so often; who knows, maybe one day he'd even fuck my wife!

But then again, if I imagined (I mean, hypothetically) my wife being with someone else, I'd be furious! But if my father-in-law fucked her, I wouldn't be so angry! Instead, I'd feel a thrill. Of course, that didn't happen. If it had—and even if it had—I wouldn't have chopped my father-in-law in two, haha!

Haha, tired now

? Take a break and see if you've rested enough. Continuing: My second wife kept saying her stomach hurt, so I took her to the hospital. I didn't really take it seriously, but she kept saying I didn't care about her and only knew how to 'treat' her with those kinds of methods.

That day, I happened to be in the county town on business, so I took my wife with me for a checkup, just to stop her from saying I didn't care about her. " This checkup was alarming! The doctor called me over and said something that made my heart pound. He suggested I get another checkup at a major city hospital.

I didn't tell my wife, and I was also worried that the county hospital might have misdiagnosed her. The next day, I took her to a major city hospital for a second opinion, even asking a friend for help.

Not only my wife, but I almost couldn't take it anymore—uterine cancer!

After returning home, my wife couldn't eat for days. No matter how I comforted her, she felt like the world was ending. Two days later, I dared not tell our families. They all came to comfort her, some pooling money, others bringing treats. They all said it was fortunate the cancer was there; otherwise, it would have been incurable. But as a woman, even the most uneducated person understood what that meant!

A week later, I took her to the city hospital for surgery.

Her life was saved. But from the moment she was discharged, she realized she was no longer a woman! I didn't grasp this realization until six months later. The first year after surgery was the hardest. Her emotions were very unstable, and she knew her temper had changed, sometimes asking me not to be offended. I cared for her deeply. My daughter, though young and unaware of the implications, took on more housework.

That night, my wife finally spoke, saying she didn't care about me anymore and could go find someone else.

But, to be honest, it wasn't that I lacked desire. When my wife was at her peak, I was annoyed with her, but when that wasn't the case… The couple also lacked emotional communication. Foreigners call that "making love," and it's absolutely true—the more they do it, the more they love it.

I didn't go out looking for someone else; I continued to care for my family and tolerate my wife's frequent, inexplicable outbursts of bad temper. For the next two years, my wife would voluntarily use her mouth to relieve my sexual desire, because my vagina had become dry. She let me try a few times, but neither she nor I experienced pleasure.

But constantly using her mouth wasn't a solution, after all, it wasn't the organ meant to be penetrated. If both of us were in the mood, we could accept anything. When my wife was aroused, I would pull out of her vagina and then put it in her mouth without any concern about the mess. But when one partner isn't in the mood, it's embarrassing to do it. After all, the feeling of ejaculating in the mouth is different from normal vaginal ejaculation afterward. Ejaculating in the mouth is only a temporary stimulation, while vaginal ejaculation is the only enjoyment, that instinctive foreplay that brings endless comfort. What's

even more embarrassing is that our daughter actually knows about this situation; perhaps the sounds from thrusting in her mouth are much louder than those from vaginal penetration. Although we are very careful to avoid her, our daughter still noticed. "I

heard this from my wife. She said that one day our daughter asked her: 'Daddy, do you have to do that kind of thing?'

I didn't take my daughter's behavior seriously. But I slowly realized that my daughter was becoming closer to me.

I started to feel very confused and anxious. For example, my daughter would offer to wash my clothes. Although I know that she has become more sensible since her mother got sick, I'm still embarrassed to let her wash my underwear." One time, I saw my daughter holding my underwear to her nose and smelling it… For example, when I needed to use the restroom, my daughter would rush in first, saying, “I’ll go first.” This happened several times, and I had to stand outside and wait, listening to the sounds my daughter made while urinating—it felt like she was deliberately molesting me! “Hurry up! I’m bursting!” sometimes I would say from outside, and my daughter would laugh from inside, “Who’s stopping you from peeing?”

My wife would sometimes see this and laugh, but my son was too young to understand. My wife seemed to be deliberately being mischievous, no longer reminding me or my daughter that someone was in the restroom.

Finally, one night, my wife uttered a terrible thought.

"This child has become more sensible, haven't you noticed?"

"Yes," I said, "She's always been very sensible."

"No... I mean... in that aspect."

"In what aspect?" My heart started pounding.

"You... didn't you notice?"

"Noticed what?"

"This child has become more sensible, she's thirteen already."

I didn't answer; I vaguely sensed my wife was implying something. After a while, my wife said, "Thirteen, she's already married by now."

"That was back then, what does a child know these days!"

"Don't say she doesn't know. She... knows..."

"Knows what?"

"Knows everything."

My heart was pounding. It wasn't that I couldn't understand what my wife was implying; I... couldn't accept it... Although I was excited by such jokes, really... where would I get the courage?

After a long pause, my wife said, "She... is willing."

Oh my god! My head suddenly felt huge, buzzing. Could such a thing really happen to me? I've only heard rumors, like fairy tales. Perhaps everyone hears such jokes, and that thought might occasionally flash through their mind, but it's ultimately an unrealistic fantasy. When it really came to this critical point, I felt scared.

"Why aren't you saying anything? You...you're scared?"

No! No! It shouldn't have gotten hard at this time, no one made it hard.

"Look." My wife's hand was already touching it, "I...I don't need it anymore, you need it...it's not impossible, you're the pillar of the family."

"What nonsense! Go to sleep!" My heart was struggling.

Seeing that I was silent, my wife lay down, ready to sleep. Suddenly she moved again, retreated, retreated into the quilt, in the darkness, my penis was taken into her mouth...slowly, I moved. And then that "pop pop" sound rang out in the quilt again...I'm not an immoral person, if I went out and did it with someone else, and then came home and put it in my wife's mouth, I would feel like I was committing a crime, and my wife has always satisfied me in this way, she no longer uses her own hand to hold to buffer the depth of penetration, she knows I know, even if there are occasional deep throats she can accept, she just doesn't dare to push forward when she reaches orgasm, and only in that way can a man reach the final satisfaction.

My wife, like me, dislikes using back channels; it's not only dirty, but it's also uncomfortable for her, so she prefers oral sex, which she finds more reasonable.

"Go visit your aunt with your dad during the holidays," my wife said to our daughter, a week before summer vacation.

During those days, I intentionally avoided our daughter, and my wife noticed. At mealtimes, my wife used to fetch things for me, but lately, she'd have our daughter fetch things for me, saying things like, "Go get something for your dad..." "Go wash your dad..." "Go massage your dad's shoulders."

Sometimes I couldn't avoid her; I even felt my wife was going too far. One night, she actually asked me, "Should I ask her to come sleep with me?"

I didn't agree at the time, but my heart was pounding. I kept wondering: Could this really happen to me?

On the fourth day of summer vacation, my wife sent us away, as if she wanted us to complete a task we had to do. "

From the moment I went to buy the train tickets, my heart was never at peace. I knew my wife had arranged it this way intentionally. The five-hour journey was even more unbearable, because I had already fallen for her, I already had the thought, but I didn't know how to face my thirteen-year-old daughter... My daughter slept on the upper bunk, and I was on the lower bunk. The passenger in the middle got off halfway through the journey. I slept for a while and heard my daughter come down and go to the restroom. I thought she would be back soon. But she didn't appear for a long time. I had to get up, only to find two people on the middle bunk opposite me, and the lower bunk was empty.

I walked to the junction of the two carriages and saw my daughter standing there alone, looking out. We were passing through a city, and the lights outside were flashing by.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Dad."

"Let's go back."

My daughter stood still. "What's wrong? Come on..." I pulled her. It felt like I hadn't touched my daughter for ten years. When I pulled her arm, it felt like it was some woman's arm. "

Those two people..." My daughter hesitated.

I think my daughter must have heard or seen something before I woke up. I had no choice but to stand there with her. It was late at night, and the carriage was almost deserted. My daughter was looking out the window when suddenly she turned around, threw herself into my arms, and hugged me tightly around the waist… I didn’t refuse, nor did I hug her tightly; I just held her against the carriage wall. I usually don’t pay much attention to this, but now, even though I wasn’t holding her tightly, I could still feel the curves of her body that had become a woman’s.

My heart fluttered for a moment, but reason prevailed. I didn’t do anything to her and just stood there until we reached a station in the middle. I saw people coming out of our carriage; it seemed to be the two from the middle bunk. After they got off, my daughter and I went back to our original bunks, leaving just the two of us.

“Go back upstairs and get some more sleep; we still have an hour to go.”

“I don’t want to go up.” In my memory, only daughters from the city would act spoiled in front of their fathers; I never thought my daughter would do it too.

She wrapped her arms around my waist again, burying her head in my lower back: "Sleep like this..."

I felt like a clueless child, unsure what to do with my hands. Even though I gently placed them on her, I could still feel my daughter's warmth through the thin fabric, a warmth that seemed to be urging me to do something.

"Cold," my daughter whispered.

I straightened my upper body and reached for a blanket to cover her.

Why hadn't I thought of that earlier? With the blanket between us and my arms around her, I felt more at ease.

But my daughter's head wasn't still. It would have been better if her face had been turned outwards, but she turned inwards, burying her face tightly against my lower abdomen... Remembering the hints my wife had given me, I felt incredibly anxious. To be honest, it wasn't that I hadn't thought about it, but I felt embarrassed to do it with my own daughter. Sometimes I really admire those men who dare to put their penis inside their own daughters—where does their courage come from?

Although it's usually a joke, I know these things really happen, and just thinking about it is exciting, and not just ordinary exciting! But if I really did it… Thinking this, my crotch started to swell, my mind was in turmoil, but I didn't want it to go soft. My wife had said she was willing, but how willing? Kids don't understand those things; she probably learned about it from those rumors. Although it's not something honorable, if she'd heard it, it must exist.

Was my daughter asleep? She was resting peacefully on my lap. My thing was already very swollen; I could feel my pants being stretched, and her face was nearby.

Ugh! It twitched. My daughter's cheek was right next to it. I felt a pang of guilt and quickly tried to think of something else to make it go soft… There were only half an hour left. I felt like every minute that passed was a test, a test of my rationality ever since my wife started giving me those hints. Now, it seemed like there was only

a thin ; whoever broke it first, things would proceed naturally. My wife probably intended this trip with my daughter for the same reason.

Perhaps there's no need to feel guilty or ashamed of that erection; wasn't it through that my daughter's half that was ejaculated into her mother's vagina? How many times had I molested her when she was still in her mother's womb? I remember a month before she was due, I knew I shouldn't do it, but I couldn't resist, so I gently entered, being very careful not to disturb her, but it still caused her protest: she kicked and punched inside.

The train jolted violently for a while, just like my heart. After that jolting passed, my daughter straightened her head.

Was my zipper zipped up? Married men often forget to zip up their pants, especially when working in the fields in the countryside. I don't know if the zipper is faulty or if my memory is bad; I often leave my pants wide open, and after a while, I don't think it's a big deal.

I changed my pants before leaving and forgot if I zipped them up. Now I'm embarrassed to look down; that jolting had woken my daughter up. Maybe she wasn't asleep at all; I could see her eyes open out of the corner of my eye. It felt like it was scrutinizing my soul, making my desire to go further falter.

"Sleep a little longer," I said, pulling the blanket over her head. In that moment, it was as if I'd thrown the ball to her, letting her do as she pleased; I didn't care anymore.

Just now, taking advantage of the train's swaying, I'd shifted my body, and I felt that thing that had initially been bent inside my underwear was now up, stretched out, and leaning to the left… Suddenly, the zipper moved slightly. My heart leaped. Could it be? Could it be that fast? Could this be the start of my illicit affair with my daughter? "

Maybe she touched it accidentally, and then she didn't move again, it's okay. Sitting like this, it's impossible to fully open it."

"We've arrived at the station, make up the bed," the attendant called from the other end. The train had begun to slow down, but I knew we wouldn't arrive for a while.

"Get up. We've arrived." "I said, lifting the blanket, my daughter sat up, and I didn't dare look her in the eye. The attendant had already come over to me, and I turned away, not wanting her to see my still bulging crotch, but I didn't care about my daughter. When I took her clothes from the upper bunk, that part was right in front of her sitting on the lower bunk.

After the attendant walked past the other end, I felt I had to go to the toilet to relieve the tension inside, maybe the toilet door wasn't closed. 'I want to go too,' my daughter said.

This child always likes to join in the fun.

The train was about to enter the station, braking frequently. I went in first, there was no need to close the door, because there was no one else around. I had just finished urinating when my daughter rushed in: 'Help me.'" "My daughter swayed a little as she squatted down," she said.

What had already softened became hard again because of her, and he hadn't even had time to zip up his pants. After squatting down, she glanced sideways at him.

She'd run into a problem on her first night at her aunt's. There were only three rooms; her cousin had his own small bed, and the other room, which was supposed to be a guest room, had a semi-double bed that could fit two people. Adults always forget that children grow up without realizing it. Her aunt still treated her like a child, but upon seeing her, she suddenly felt she'd grown up, become a young lady.

Her aunt didn't suggest any other sleeping arrangements, probably still thinking it didn't matter since the child was small, so I had no choice but to make do. It wouldn't be right to separate the couple and have the two of us men sleep in the same bed; we wouldn't be used to it, and it didn't seem necessary.

But what happened on the train made me uneasy, even more nervous than the first time I slept with my wife. It was like I felt something was bound to happen tonight.

My daughter went to sleep first, and I chatted with her aunt and uncle. Her uncle had given me a few extra drinks at dinner, and I couldn't hold my liquor, so I wanted to lie down.

I didn't take off my pants; in the summer, I was only wearing underwear underneath, and only my shirt was off. Lying on the outside was quite nice; there was enough room for two people to sleep, as long as that little thing... As long as Xi doesn't cause trouble.

Under the numbing effect of the alcohol, I fell asleep quickly, only to wake up in the middle of the night. In my hazy state, I felt my leg draped somewhere. When I became fully awake, I realized my daughter was sleeping in my arms, one leg habitually draped over her. I remembered she had initially slept facing inwards; how had she turned and now nestled tightly against me?

No! This won't do! I quietly moved aside and noticed my belt was unbuckled. This had happened before; when I was drunk, I'd lie down on the bed and fall asleep without realizing it... I pulled my pants down in my sleep. I

went back to lie down and turned my daughter over. But I couldn't fall asleep. I thought about my position when I woke up, and I didn't know what I had done to my daughter while I was asleep. My hard penis was pressed tightly against her body through my underwear. I don't know if I had unintentionally hugged her or if she had snuggled into my arms on her own.

I know I have a good wife. She is considerate and caring. Even though we haven't had normal sex for two years, she has helped me in that way. She even encouraged my daughter to get close to me. In my wife's eyes, that kind of thing is acceptable. If it weren't for the bleeding on our wedding night, I would have really suspected that she and her father had done it. It seems that her older sister and her father might have had that kind of relationship. Objectively speaking, this makes her not disgusted by such incestuous things. So she kept hinting that I should have sex with my daughter.

And my daughter had obviously received her mother's hints, but she didn't know what to do. Girls in puberty naturally have a kind of masculine admiration for their fathers, and with her mother's hints... So she felt the stirrings of youth, yet was also bewildered by them… But her daughter was too young, only thirteen. Could she withstand a sexual encounter with an adult? I know mine isn't particularly large, but it's not small either. When I'm giving my wife oral sex, even a slight movement pushes it down her throat.

It's pure torture! If my wife hadn't given me those hints, if I hadn't had those thoughts, if my daughter hadn't been so affectionate, if… Hearing is one thing, joking is another, but who would actually have sex with their own daughter?

If I pulled her close and had sex with her now, it would definitely be fine, but would that hurt her—physically, psychologically?

God! Why did God give me a daughter, and why did He give me a wife like this? Why did He remove my uterus when my wife was in the prime of her sexual life? Why did He remove the pleasure from her ever-flowing vagina? Is it morally right to let my daughter take my place? Can my daughter enjoy the sexual pleasure her father brings her?

Dawn is breaking! Will tomorrow be a new day? No matter what, I must go back; I can't suffer here! Perhaps after this trip, I will boldly break through ethical boundaries, but even if I do, it can't be here.

Go back? If I go back, can I recreate my daughter on the same bed where I created her?

It's been almost two years since I've used all my strength, thrusting my hips with such pleasure, experiencing such a cathartic orgasm. In these two years, my half-old penis has been restored to its youthful state by my wife's oral sex. Her skin wasn't so dark anymore.

Was my daughter really happy? Did she really like her father's genitals? I only remembered her seeing them once, accidentally, in the outhouse. But judging from the way she pressed her face against my crotch on the train, she probably didn't dislike it, right? And from the way she snuggled into my arms to sleep, whether intentionally or unintentionally, she probably didn't dislike her father doing that to her, right?

Should I test her?

My heart pounded as I thought this. The light in the room was enough to see now, and her aunt and uncle hadn't moved yet. What if my daughter woke up and turned over, and found… Yes! I should test her.

I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. Maybe she saw me like this last night. I pulled it out from the side of my underwear, looking down to examine it. Was it too exposed? I wanted my daughter to know that it had popped out of my underwear on its own while I was asleep, not that I had deliberately let it out. I tugged at the side of my underwear again—no, it wasn't exposed enough, it didn't show its magnificence, and the side of the underwear wasn't tight enough to let the glans shine. I put it back the way it was, tightened the underwear again. This naughty thing had already throbbed three times. This was good, very majestic, very obscene… Having done all this, I waited. Fortunately, it didn't take long before my daughter woke up. Just as she was about to turn around, I closed my eyes and kept my breathing even.

My daughter turned around, but her body was very close to me, leaving no room for observation. Suddenly, it seemed that my thing was touched by her arm. Then, I felt my daughter's body move backward, and I felt her head move slightly. Was she looking?

I opened my eyes, and sure enough, my daughter was observing intently. My heart pounded. She observed for a long time, then seemed to touch me. I pretended to wake up from a dream and turned over, and my daughter also got into position.

We had originally planned to stay at her aunt's house for three days. Now we couldn't stay any longer, and we set off home the next afternoon.

Because it was daytime, we didn't take a sleeper berth. My daughter stayed very close to me, and I didn't dare to be overly affectionate with her. As the train swayed, my daughter was already drowsy. I wanted to test her again to see if my test that morning had worked. I moved my body outward, letting her lie in a semi-reclined position, her head still resting on my thighs and the curve of my waist. I covered her head with her clothes.

Along the way, I don't know how many times it had hardened inside, and my daughter didn't know how many times she had turned over. My lovely daughter seemed to understand her father's needs; her face never left that area.

Back home, my heart was even more conflicted; it seemed the decision was mine to make. My daughter and her mother were both accepting.

I overheard her mother subtly inquiring about the trip, but my daughter remained silent.

That evening, I took a shower first, then my daughter did too. My mind was in turmoil. I went for a walk, but had no destination in mind. Walking aimlessly in the dark in the countryside is nothing like in the city; it would be foolish.

I got home around 8:00 PM. There was no need to sleep so early in the summer. I sat on the kang (heated brick bed) watching TV; my son, daughter, and wife were all there. My daughter had been silent ever since she got home. After the drama ended, my son was almost asleep.

"Go back to your room and sleep," my wife told my son. My daughter was about to get off the kang when her mother stopped her.

My heart pounded. That moment was approaching; it felt less like a test for my daughter and more like a test for me.

None of the three spoke, staring at the unselectable program on TV. No one seemed to want to change the channel, but no one was truly watching. Occasionally, I heard a long sigh; I couldn't tell if it was my daughter or her mother.

About half an hour later, her mother started making the bed. The weather in July wasn't too hot here; a thin blanket was enough.

"Let Daddy hold you while you sleep," my wife said to our daughter. It was my wife who finally broke the ice.

I didn't say anything, and neither did our daughter, her eyes glued to the TV. Then I heard her let out a long sigh.

"Still watching?" my wife asked our daughter, who was still lost in thought. She still didn't answer.

A wave of guilt washed over me; I blamed my wife for being in such a hurry. Clearly, our daughter understood what it meant to let her father hold her while she slept.

My wife picked up the remote and turned off the TV and the light on the kang (heated brick bed).

After that brief darkness, both my daughter and my wife had undressed.

"Over there with your dad..." my wife said. Our daughter timidly lay down, and my wife pulled my blanket over her as well.

Even on our wedding night, we weren't this nervous; the father and daughter in bed were momentarily at a loss for what to do.

After lying there for a while, I felt I couldn't neglect my daughter, so I gently and tentatively pulled her close. Her body was stiff, even more so than on the train; perhaps it was because her mother's presence made her feel uneasy.

Her trembling breaths fell onto my chest. This wouldn't do; she was too tense. My hand slid down her back, touching her bare bottom. It turned out she had undressed completely. This made me uneasy again, and my hand remained still on her bottom.

Then, something strange happened. My wife, who had been facing the wall and deliberately keeping her body away from us, suddenly turned around. Perhaps to break the awkward silence, she reached in and started tickling our daughter's armpit… Our daughter started to struggle, and the mother and daughter laughed. To avoid her mother's hand, our daughter's active body had to lean against me, and in the chaos, I took the opportunity to pull down my underwear… When our daughter leaned against me again, I hugged her, my burning-hot penis pressed against her body. Just as our daughter stopped laughing, my wife reached out a finger and gently poked our daughter's armpit: "Good daughter, good daughter, daughter is Daddy's little cotton-padded jacket!"

Our daughter giggled, her little belly thrusting forward.

And there's more, don't rush, keep reading: My third wife is truly a good wife! Although she's just a rural woman, she understands a lot. She knew this kind of thing was awkward between father and daughter, so she deliberately tried to ease the tension. When she saw her daughter in her father's arms, she tactfully turned away.

After being teased by her mother, our daughter, though physically settled, was still breathing. My hands gently caressed my daughter's body; her delicate skin was as smooth as silk. When my hand moved from her soft buttocks to her private parts, her breathing became even more tense. She had probably never had anyone touch that mysterious place before… I gently pulled her body up, lowered my head, found her little mouth, and kissed her to soothe her anxiety. My daughter didn't know how to kiss yet, so I licked her lips with the tip of my tongue, and she shyly looked away.

Finally, I mustered my courage, rolled over and pinned her down, then slightly arched my body, parted her legs, and ran my fingers up her cleft. My fingers were wet.

Thousands of years of moral ethics were about to be broken! As our bodies were about to merge, I was both excited and nervous, thrilled and timid.

I tentatively touched her, and my daughter immediately opened her mouth, letting out a trembling gasp, while I too struggled to breathe properly.

The moment I touched her, all moral boundaries crumbled; the only thing locked away was my daughter's untouched virginity… Clearly, the process wasn't smooth. I'd found the right spot, and I tentatively increased the pressure. My daughter made a small, nervous sound, leaving both of us at a loss. The best course of action at that moment would be to rush in immediately and finish the process. All shyness and timidity would vanish, just like what I did to her mother on our wedding night. After a while of pain, the psychological barrier would be overcome.

However, I didn't dare to rush in with my daughter, afraid of hurting her. I tried pushing again, but my already low confidence only grew stronger; it seemed impossible to penetrate. At this moment, my daughter's body began to tremble… I lowered my head and kissed her lips again. This time, she accepted. Perhaps she needed this comfort, this encouragement. As our lips met, I secretly applied pressure to her entrance from below. My daughter made another sound, but her body offered no resistance; she silently accepted it.

Although she had accepted it in her heart, when my glans felt locked, my daughter still struggled slightly, as if in pain, letting out a groan of endurance.

I knew I had succeeded, and after breaking through that barrier, the penis's desire for the vagina was unstoppable, as was the impending urge in my perineum. At the moment of penetration, the immense psychological and physiological stimulation suddenly pushed that urge to its peak...

My hips and waist instinctively propelled me forward. I tilted my head back, struggling to support my body, which was about to collapse at that moment. Accompanied by my daughter's suppressed moans, I completed the most unbelievable—perhaps the oldest—ejaculation process… I never imagined it would be exactly the same as the time I created her, so thrilling!!

I supported myself for a moment, and as I pulled out, I heard a "squelch" from my daughter's lower body.

I lay flat, an immense sense of happiness enveloping me. I reached down, grabbed the handkerchief her mother had prepared for her, and let my daughter hold it. Then I hugged her and gently caressed her…

(I'm so glad to see that no one called me a beast after the first part

. I won't say thank you! I finally found a "paradise" where I could confide in someone, and I wasn't called a beast. I know some of you probably cursed me in your hearts, but so be it. From a social ethics perspective, it's not something to be proud of. Some of you might envy our family. Envy is one thing, but not everyone can find such a "harmonious" wife and daughter. Many more of you just felt it wasn't exciting enough, and the good thing ended right there. I originally didn't want to portray my daughter as a shameless slut, nor did I want readers to see my wife as a whore, so I omitted a lot of text. Since everyone wanted to read it so much, and since I wasn't called a beast, I'll fill in the omitted parts…)

The weather in July seemed to be getting hotter every day. The night before, it felt cool and breezy, but waking up this morning, the cicadas chirping loudly from the sycamore trees early in the morning told me it was going to be a hot day. My daughter and son, on summer vacation, no longer needed to get up early, and our lives were suddenly disrupted. When I opened my eyes, my wife was no longer on the bed, and there was no sound from inside. Occasionally, I heard the sound of a wooden stick striking metal in the yard—my wife was mixing feed for the chickens. Old Wang, the bottle collector, shouted twice in the street and then disappeared into the distance.

My body didn't feel as free as usual. Normally, after my wife got out of bed, I would freely stretch out my limbs, which had been cramped all night, turn over, and doze off again until the children were about to leave.

This time, I felt restricted because my daughter was sleeping soundly in my arms, and I dared not move for fear of waking her. My erect penis also felt restricted; it was being pressed against my lower abdomen by my daughter's little bottom. Since I was ten, my energetic day had often begun by lifting the covers and looking at my erect penis. Now, for a man like me, almost forty, morning erections have become a symbol of my physical condition. When I was younger, I always liked to wake up in this good state and lie on top of my wife, whether she wanted it or not, for a passionate encounter, sometimes without even ejaculating.

That thought flashed through my mind. No, my daughter is too delicate; that would hurt her and her precious child.

I could feel my daughter's breathing was still even, meaning she was still asleep. Her shoulder was exposed in front of my neck, and the arm that had been under me was already stretched out far.

The scene from the previous night resurfaced in my mind; it seemed like a dream, but thinking about it, it was real. My daughter, still asleep in my arms, proved that it really happened! That excruciating ejaculation, which I felt right up to my thighs, also proved that it really happened. Those stories I told for the thrill of the day had actually happened last night, between my daughter and me, on the very bed where she was born.

That scene was strikingly similar to one fourteen years ago. Back then, it was my first sexual experience; I was excited and nervous, impulsive and clumsy. Luckily, I was in such a rush that a disaster was averted. I rushed in without thinking and ejaculated immediately! The first time I ejaculated inside a woman wasn't about how long it lasted, but about the explosive moment, the breathtaking tremor proving I was a real man!

And what did last night's scene prove? The excitement and nervousness were the same, but I was much more careful. For a moment, I thought about giving up, but when my glans entered my daughter's vagina, that reckless impulse erupted again! This is the nature of the male genitalia; it forges a man's courage, strength, and unwavering spirit, and fuels his lifelong pursuit of novelty.

Thinking this, I unconsciously pushed my body forward, pressing even closer to my daughter. I lowered my head, kissing her hair, my tongue tracing a strand, licking it between my lips.

My daughter's little bottom twitched slightly, as if she had woken up, but she didn't turn over. I thought I should get up first; there would be other opportunities for intimacy later. Rather than saving face for my daughter, who was experiencing this for the first time, it was more about saving face for me, her lucky father.

I gently moved out of bed, got dressed, and got off the kang (heated brick bed).

It was indeed a sunny day. Although the sunlight felt a little stimulating on my sleepy eyes, the morning air in the countryside was still so fresh. I hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. My wife was in the yard, giving me a mysterious smile. I looked away. I figured I should go for a walk, otherwise my daughter would be embarrassed to see me when she woke up. I picked up the bucket and went to the vegetable garden. I met a few neighbors on the way, but I didn't dare look them in the eye. I greeted them and hurried on my way, as if the whole world suddenly knew that my daughter and I had had sex last night.

I was carrying water to water the cucumbers when I looked down and saw the balsam plant. My daughter had transplanted it before going to her aunt's house. It seemed to have taken root. I decided to water it a little more. When my daughter was squatting there planting flowers, I was peeking into her white underwear.

"They'll survive, I planted them before, come on, water them."

I said, glancing at her underwear as I watered.

"Where did you water them? Oh no!"

My gaze returned to the water-covered embankment she had built, which I had washed away.

"Quick, use a shovel."

At that moment, I was only looking and thinking. Only a few days later, it actually happened! Thinking back to when she was born, I didn't even give my wife, who was lying in a hospital bed, a kind look because she was a girl. Only a few years later, my daughter is grown up and can attract her father's attention.

They say a mother's height influences her child, and it seems that's true. My daughter must have inherited tall genes from her mother. I'm 1723 meters tall, not tall for a man, and her mother is 166 meters tall, not short for a woman. By the time she was eleven, my daughter was already taller than other children her age. Her straight nose must be like mine, but I don't think it's particularly handsome on my face; it looks so delicate on my daughter's face! It's a pity her eyes resemble her mother's, single eyelids, but they're much prettier than her mother's, mainly because of my nose—perhaps that's too selfish of me, but those thin eyebrows are a gift from her mother.

The best features of both of them finally merged in their daughter's mouth; at first glance, she doesn't seem to resemble either, but upon closer inspection, she resembles both. My lips are thick, her mother's are thin, and her daughter's are neither thin nor thick; my mouth is big, my wife's is small, and hers is neither big nor small; my front teeth are large but generally straight, my wife has a tooth on her left that looks like a canine but is actually crooked, and my daughter's teeth are straight and white. It's

not just her teeth that are white, but also her skin. As the saying goes, "fair skin covers a hundred flaws," and her fair skin makes her, who is already not ugly, even more lovable. The neighbors all say, "Look at Tingting, how can she be so white? It's like you could squeeze water out of her skin! What do you feed her?" You probably

can't get such fair skin from food alone. A fair face, a fair neck, a fair tummy… the delicate skin she inherited from her mother was perfectly accentuated on her legs!

Girls just can't resist praise. If you compliment her on her white teeth, she'll shamelessly smile at you; if you praise her pretty nose, she'll huff and pout when you criticize her! But that's all fine—let her laugh, who doesn't like a smiling face? And let her huff, what daughter doesn't like to be affectionate!

Perhaps the last thing I should praise is her two thick, muscular legs! My daughter, just entering puberty, knows how to show off her beauty—no, in the words of books, it's called being sexy. But she shouldn't have shown it off in front of me, her father who harbors a devil in his heart, or rather, she shouldn't have shown it off so fully, so fully that the bulge at the base of her thighs… Gradually, it's not just her legs that are becoming sexy. Kids these days develop early. By twelve, Tingting's breasts were already visible. Does she look like her mother? Her mother's breasts are beautiful, neither too big nor too small. I initially liked her because of her beautiful breasts, but I only dared to tell my wife this after we got married, because I often praised her breasts, and my wife became proud, sometimes deliberately dressing scantily to show them off. Of course, my praise wasn't in vain; every time I praised her, I received a reward like a pack of good cigarettes or a bottle of good wine. By

thirteen, she was even more impressive! Really! It's not that I'm vulgar, but sometimes I really get a flutter in my heart from her graceful figure. Our family is lively. My wife is gentle and witty; a single sentence can often make everyone laugh. Although I sometimes swear, after a while, I don't think it's offensive anymore, and the kids have heard it on the street before. So my daughter is very relaxed at home. However, sometimes her underwear is too loose. Her legs, which are like white radishes, are already eye-catching enough, but occasionally a little bit of flesh peeks out from the edge of her underwear, making me quickly and nervously look away. I only look away because of the devil in my heart. My daughter doesn't have a devil in her heart, so she doesn't care if my gaze returns to that spot after a moment.

They say a good woman is like fine wine, and I think my daughter is a bottle of fine wine, opened at the perfect time. If she's left to age too long, she might turn sour; if she's left to age too long, she won't develop her full aroma… At thirteen, she could actually get inside. It seems a bit unbelievable. Although I didn't get any thrusting, I believe my daughter must have suffered a lot when I was overcoming her predicament. Her mother was twenty-one at the time, and she was still screaming in pain. What a good daughter! Ah! My lovely daughter! I've tasted the thrill of breaking a hymen again! And this time, it's even more exciting, more awe-inspiring, because it's my daughter lying beneath me. How many fathers in the world yearn to insert their penis into their daughter's body, yet how many can actually realize this beautiful ideal! The reason it feels even more exhilarating is because it's not just about breaking a virgin's body, but also about breaking the moral ethics formed over thousands, even tens of thousands of years.

Destruction? Or construction? For a farmer like me, who follows a lifestyle unchanged for thousands of years—working at sunrise and resting at sunset—it's impossible to make a correct judgment in one morning. Perhaps it's up to those social ethicists who uphold so-called moral ethics to judge. But for me, for my family, it's construction—the construction of a new father-daughter relationship, the construction of a new family relationship! As for those so-called morals, I don't care! Because I know I love my wife, I love my daughter. I know I'm lucky, the luckiest father in the world!

Thinking this, I carried the bucket home. Today is market day. I'll buy her a nice dress while we go—no, there aren't any nice clothes in the countryside. I'll go to the county town in a couple of days.

I saw Tingting leading her younger brother out of the house. My son called out to me, "Dad, Mom's calling you for dinner."

"What have you been up to?" my wife asked, tidying up the food.

"Watering the garden."

"I just watered it the day before yesterday."

"Can't you see how hot it is?"

"Here—" my wife handed me a peeled egg.

Ever since I saw her smile at me this morning, I've been too embarrassed to look her in the eye. I took the egg, glanced up, and saw my wife smiling mysteriously again. It's been so long since I've seen my wife smile so charmingly; it seems like she hasn't smiled much since her surgery.

I thought: What's so great about you? I'm not that beautiful. Besides the shocking feeling, I felt a little guilty.

"You haven't eaten either?"

"Wasn't I waiting for you? Here—" my wife peeled another one and handed it to me.

"One is enough."

"Eat another one. You've done a good job!"

Hearing this, I finally couldn't help but laugh. In the past, it was because I had made her feel good the night before that she would give me an extra egg or two in the morning. No matter what, that was considered a man's achievement. I'd never seen or heard of those men with erectile dysfunction or premature ejaculation. How many women could achieve the same level of satisfaction as my wife? From her excited utterances, "Oh, fuck me to death!" I knew she was close to orgasm! But every time I heard her exclaim like that, I couldn't last long. As for the time my wife was "fucked to death," it only happened once or twice, but she was extremely satisfied. She said, "Just this once made being a woman worthwhile!"

But now, is that considered an achievement? Opening a bag for my daughter is an achievement? How could you even think of that!

I drank some porridge and ate the egg.

"Why is there so much blood?"

I was startled at first, then realized my wife was referring to that.

"How did you know?"

"It really isn't your daughter? You don't care at all."

I remembered the handkerchief. "Where did you put it? Let me see."

"I put it away... Why didn't I hear her cry out?"

"You think everyone is like you?"

"This child! So sensible!"

"You think everyone is as clueless as you?" "I

really didn't understand this time."

"Looks like I should get married sooner." "

Now you know how good it is to have a daughter, right? When we gave you a daughter, look at your parents'..."

"Whose parents?!"

"Okay, okay, wrong, our parents... Which one wasn't happy? You even had a long face! Now you don't need to raise her?"

"Don't put it so harshly! What do you mean 'used'?"

"Hehe... Hurry up, I have to go to the market. It's getting hot, I need to buy my daughter a dress. She didn't like the one from last year."

This is exactly what I was thinking.

"What's so good about the countryside? I'll go to the county town in a couple of days."

"That's more like it! Treat my daughter well from now on!"

"She's my daughter now!" I stood up. "When have I ever not treated you well?"

"Hehe..." My wife laughed so happily!

It seems a bit long, please read patiently: Four days later, I went to the county town, not specifically to buy a dress for my daughter.

Before leaving, my wife asked our daughter to come with me, but Tingting didn't want to go, and I didn't want her to come either. My wife said, "Do you know how to buy it?" I don't know how to buy it, so I just looked around the streets, seeing what girls my age in the city wear and how they dress. With my daughter's figure, she looks good in anything, humph! My daughter!

After finishing my other errands, I really started paying attention. Whether on the bus or on the street, whenever I saw a girl my daughter's age, or even a little older, wearing a nice dress, I would stare at her for a while. I saw so many that I started to wonder if I was really there to look at the clothes.

Just as I was about to enter the mall, a girl came out wearing shorts. Her two slender, white legs caught my eye. The girl was about the same age as Tingting, and she looked really good in shorts—no, I should call them sexy, I forgot. But she was from the city; would a country girl dare to wear that?

I wandered around for an hour and finally bought the dress I liked best. As I was about to leave, I passed a stall and suddenly spotted some shorts. They looked even better than the ones the girl had just worn. I asked the price: 180 yuan. Was a pair of shorts worth it? I didn't care. I bargained down to 150 yuan and bought them.

When I got home, I didn't dare tell my wife how much they cost, but she has a good eye. She called our daughter in, and we went to the inner room to change. I heard my wife say, "Your dad has a good eye! They look really good. Do you like them?"

"I love them!" "Come on, call your dad in and take a look." My wife came out. "You're quite good at shopping. Come in and take a look."

I went to the inner room. This was the first time I was alone with my daughter since that night. My daughter finally looked up at me with a smile. I looked her up and down in her new clothes; they were indeed nice.

"Do you like them?"

"Yes." My daughter nodded, still a little shy. Now it was necessary to break the awkward silence.

I stroked my daughter's hair gratefully, not knowing what to say. I wanted to say something, but what should I say? Thank you? Tell my daughter how good she is?

Perhaps nothing needs to be said. My daughter is a sensible daughter, a selfless daughter, a great daughter. She gave her virginity to the father who gave her life and raised her. How many good daughters like her are there in the world?!

My daughter smiled, still looking embarrassed. At this moment, I should hug her. Yes, I should do that. Although in our rural area, daughters rarely show affection to their fathers as they grow older, it's different now. My daughter is different!

I pulled my daughter into my arms, hugged her tightly, kissed her hair, and breathed in her unique girlish scent, completely intoxicated... Although my desire had already risen, I couldn't. I knew I had to let her wound heal.

Three days later, in the evening, I heard her and her mother laughing and talking in the outer room, seemingly about her father.

"What day?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know your own affairs?"

"Just... these last couple of days."

"Are you scared?" my wife asked.

"..." My daughter didn't answer, just giggled.

"It's all the same, what's there to be afraid of with your own father?"

Sure enough, that night, under her mother's guidance, my daughter once again crawled into my bed.

I wasn't as nervous as the first time, but I was still very excited and grateful for everything the mother and daughter had done for me.

Amidst playful banter and laughter, I finished my foreplay with my daughter, though she was still reluctant to let me touch her genitals. However, it was the first time she had used her hands to explore her father's genitals.

I felt the position from that morning when we woke up was better, as it wouldn't be too restrictive for her. So, after she kissed me somewhat passively, I had her turn around.

Her little bottom was now slightly lower. I reached around to her front, lifted her upper leg, and when I touched it, she trembled slightly.

Although the so-called moral code had been broken, and although I had become quite composed, the process was still not entirely relaxed. I had to stay outside her for a while, letting it be intimate with her, allowing the temperature of my burning glans to even out with the temperature of her vulva, and letting the love juice secreted from her shy vagina make its entry smoother.

As my glans entered, her bottom trembled slightly, but that didn't hinder its progress. As the entire shaft once again felt that exhilarating sensation of being pulled all the way in, my daughter's little bottom was finally secured. What pleased me even more was that the lubrication inside was sufficient for penile thrusting.

I tried moving it a couple of times, experiencing a profound and utter pleasure. The circular muscles at the entrance were tightly wrapped, making it feel exceptionally proud as it pushed in.

It was the first time my daughter had experienced thrusting, and her breathing sounded so tense. That tense breathing not only affected me but also my mother, who was pretending to be asleep facing the wall. Although she no longer had the desire, her next words still sounded sarcastic: "Don't be unable to get up tomorrow morning, okay?"

"Does it still hurt?" I asked my daughter softly, because she had just moved her bottom slightly. At that moment, I was making a pulling-back motion and almost slipped out; when I entered again, I heard her groan.

But that one thrust really hit the mark. The sensation of her vulva brushing against my glans and completely pulling back the foreskin immediately sent shivers down my spine. If it weren't for the fact that my old cock had been trained in her mother's vagina before, I would have ejaculated in just this one time. Isn't that what it's like the first time?

"Mmm." My daughter's head moved a few times. I didn't dare to do it again, even though I really wanted to.

Once we were in the right position, I increased the pace a little, and I heard her groan again.

"Does this hurt too?"

"Hehe..." I didn't expect my daughter to laugh. It didn't seem to hurt really. Maybe she had tasted a little pleasure, or maybe she was curious about that kind of in-and-out motion.

Next, I tried to explain the meaning of intercourse to my daughter using different frequencies and amplitudes, and the effect of this explanation was confirmed by my daughter's moans, which were sometimes long and sometimes short—or perhaps they weren't even moans, just humming sounds—and her rapid breathing.

I didn't expect my daughter to reach orgasm, although I knew that the first couple of times of intercourse, due to novelty and excitement, could lead to orgasm in a very short time—that's how it was with her mother initially. However, I couldn't hold back then, especially when I heard her moans being squeezed out; I ejaculated too quickly and ultimately didn't bring her to climax.

Now it's different. I know how to hold back. Although my daughter's shy voice stimulated me, constantly sending signals inside me to intensify my movements, I still wanted to possess her vagina a little longer, because this feeling of father and daughter becoming one was truly wonderful.

"Does it hurt?" I asked her softly, turning her head. My daughter giggled and then held it back. When I kissed her little mouth, she was already very aroused. It was clear she enjoyed this warm, thrusting sensation; as her mother would say, it felt like a connection from top to bottom. Yes, women need to be loved, and my daughter needed it too. This feeling of being loved was quickly rewarded by my daughter—she was already very wet; a youthful vagina is so passionate!

I sped up again… “Ugh—” My daughter finally let out a real moan. She broke free from my breathless kiss, burying her face in the pillow, but still couldn't block out the continuous moans.

You little rascal! Don't do this! Daddy couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to take a break, but it was too late. I had to take the opportunity to climb on top of her, and that uncontrollable moment finally erupted.

Please forgive me! I really have no words to describe it! The moment I ejaculated into my daughter's body, I truly couldn't find the words to describe it! If I faced the ocean, I would let out a roar that reached the heavens, making the ocean surge with giant waves! If I faced the mountains, I would let out a roar that made the mountains tremble, making the mountains echo! If I faced the grasslands, I would roar at the distant white clouds, making the grasslands bloom with flowers. If I dared to face this world, I would roar to all fathers in the world: Love our daughters!

The days when my wife's hysterectomy had made life bleak finally began to change from that night in July. Although I couldn't have sex with my daughter as freely as I did when I first married my wife, considering her capacity and her irregular menstrual cycle, I suddenly realized after our "honeymoon" with her that I had neglected my wife's feelings. My wife, who has sacrificed so much for me, sometimes showed signs of sadness. Even though she no longer needs sex, had I been lacking in tenderness towards her?

I wasn't the only one who noticed this; my daughter did too. That day, I was going to the county town on business. As I was leaving, my daughter stopped me and said, "Buy Mom a dress." I agreed, but as I turned away, a pang of sadness struck me. I wasn't even as good as my child!

"You still care about me?" my wife said as she took the dress I'd bought for her. My usually docile wife finally smiled. My daughter was coaxing her little brother to try the snacks I'd bought, and my wife called me from the other room.

"Does it look good?" my wife asked, showing me the new dress. Apart from her no longer full breasts and the noticeable wrinkles on her face, my wife's figure was still perfect. This had always made buying her clothes a breeze since we started dating.

"It looks good!" I said, but then, afraid she'd complain I was being perfunctory, I added, "It really looks good. Turn around and let me see..."

My wife turned around, and after a moment of scrutiny, I hugged her from behind, pulling her into my arms. My wife was startled by my sudden action and paused for a moment, then leaned against me tenderly.

"Alright, don't let the child see," she said, pulling away from my embrace. "I don't care, as long as you're good to our daughter." She softened again.

That thought had been churning in my mind since dinner. Although my wife no longer needed sex physically, did she really not want it psychologically? Although physiology can influence psychology, a couple is still a couple. Can they still be called a couple without any sex? For nearly two years after the surgery, she had to use her mouth to satisfy me, but was that just to satisfy me? To put it bluntly, did my wife so easily give up the penis that had brought her countless joys?

Perhaps it wasn't just about satisfying me? Thinking this, after lying down with my wife, I timidly asked, "Give me... a kiss... please?"

"You still need me now that you have a daughter? Hehe..." Sure enough, my wife giggled and backed away. She knew I liked this position.

My lovely wife is still as lovely as ever. She didn't hold it with her hands, just held it in her mouth, letting me move freely. Just as she felt me about to penetrate deeper, she released it, coughed twice, took a few deep breaths, and then opened her mouth. I understood she wanted me to go all the way in… This happened several times, then she released it: “Want to cum?”

“Mmm.”

“Save it for your daughter, don't waste something good. Hehe…”

“Isn't she in her fertile period?”

“Can't you think of something?” “Something

? What kind of thing? Having sex with my daughter while wearing a condom? I feel a little strange about that.

” “Forget it.”

“Can you hold it in?” After saying that, my wife held it in her mouth again. I thrust for a while, feeling like I couldn't cum but still wanted to.

“I'll go call her.”

“Forget it.” I said insincerely.

“It's okay, our son is asleep.” "

After my wife finished speaking, she got off the kang (a heated brick bed), and soon came up with our daughter.

A story is a story; you'll have to be patient to read it: To be honest, in our rural area, influenced by old ideas, men don't easily accept licking a woman's genitals. I've never licked my wife's genitals; at most, I'll kiss her mons pubis, even though she often uses her mouth on men, and it seems most women like that.

However, ever since I saw that bulging flesh next to my daughter's underwear a few years ago, I've had a desire, a real urge to kiss those white, fleshy lips, and even more.

But..." I've never done that before, afraid my daughter would think it's too vulgar. Having sex is one thing, as if that place is born to be fucked, but licking is another. My daughter won't even let me see. Many times I wanted to pry open her legs for a closer look, but whenever she saw me about to do that, she would close her legs. It's different under the covers. At night, I can't see her face, and my daughter becomes bolder. After two or three times, even her mother said that my daughter had tasted the sweetness. I asked her how she knew, and my wife said, "I'm a woman, how could I not know?"

Of course, my wife knew. After my daughter was born, when she was shameless, I talked to my wife about it. She said that the first two times were painful, but she still wanted it inside. She said it's like women need that feeling of fullness, hehe. As

soon as my daughter came on top, before she even lay down, I pulled down her panties. My daughter smiled shyly and pushed my hand away.

"Hehehe..." my wife laughed at this, "Look how much your dad likes her, give her a couple of kisses." "

It felt like half a month since I'd last touched my daughter. The moment I touched her, I felt an electric shock. My desire was burning fiercely; I really wanted to kiss her. Tonight, I'd go all out, regardless of whether she wanted to or not.

I kissed her restless body, and as my hot lips brushed against her neck, she giggled, ticklish as she was. But when I suckled on her breasts, her laughter was replaced by irregular breathing. Her body felt exceptionally smooth after her bath; the only slightly rough spot was her mons pubis, where a few hairs had already sprouted." But that didn't diminish the beauty I longed for. Those few pitiful hairs, like weeds growing in a flowerpot, only served to accentuate the vitality hidden within.

To avoid my daughter's shyness, I didn't linger too long on her breasts and lower abdomen. Before she understood my intentions, my passionate lips had already traversed the pubic mound where those few hairs sprouted, heading towards the garden I had longed for.

When my daughter felt the unusual contact and tried to close her legs, it was too late; my lewd lips had already kissed her most mysterious place… After a few helpless struggles, my daughter breathed heavily, playfully pushing my head away with her hands.

At that moment, I seemed to hear her mother say something, and then my daughter quieted down. My greedy tongue then plunged deep between my daughter's parted labia. Doing such a strange thing for the first time felt exciting and intoxicating, intoxicated by my daughter's taste. How many times had I seen my daughter urinate from that parted, white-and-pink spot? I always had the urge to kiss her, not because I was lewd, but because I believe every father feels this way. Yes, you might be able to resist your daughter's unintentional temptations, but you can't resist the allure of beauty—the most beautiful part of a woman's most beautiful years.

Although it was my first time doing something like this, and I was at a loss for words facing my daughter's tender flesh, my greedy tongue still aroused her displeasure. She instinctively squeezed her legs together, but I didn't care. My daughter finally couldn't stop my tongue from repeatedly smoothing her two little petals. That licking caused her spasms from time to time. Finally, ignoring her mother's dissuasion, my daughter made a sound again. To my surprise… The sound wasn't traveling through the air, but through my daughter's body; it was coming from her vagina. This discovery further aroused me, as if my daughter's vagina was speaking. When I tried to probe the source of the sound with my tongue, my daughter convulsed again and pushed my head away with her hands. I finally gave up torturing her and moved my body up to her.

Not rushing to enter her, I lightly touched her already very sensitive flesh. With each touch, my daughter held her breath, seemingly waiting for that moment. I tentatively adjusted my position, pressing my burning glans against her vulva and gently rubbing. I noticed my daughter's tightly closed eyes were squeezing open. I put my lips to hers, letting her bite. My daughter gently bit her teeth, but it didn't hurt. I pulled back slightly, and my glans slid along her vulva to the appropriate position. This time, my daughter wasn't disappointed; she got what she wanted. Her not-so-spacious vagina was once again filled to its maximum capacity.

"Ah—" the daughter exclaimed, no longer as shy and reserved as before, and happily hugged her father.

Despite her vagina having become familiar with my various thrusting techniques after several rounds of guidance and training, my daughter still showed unusual surprise at my deep penetrations. Her mouth was open, and with each long thrust, she would gasp, only to quickly suppress the sound, perhaps feeling it too obviously expressed the pleasure of a thirteen-year-old girl. However, as the rhythm quickened, the sounds of our breathing and sighs soon became indistinguishable. Our skin no longer felt so smooth, and we were both sweating profusely. But to mask the sounds that might sound somewhat obscene to others, I covered us both with a thin blanket. It was completely dark inside. I arched my back, thrusting and listening to the sounds of our union.

My daughter must be very sensitive to these sounds of being fucked; even to an adult like me, they sounded obscene.

"Is it good?" I teased my daughter, who giggled softly. Then I pulled my penis almost completely out, then quickly thrust it back in, savoring the pleasure of the deep thrust. After a few repetitions, my daughter began to breathe heavily again. I sensed that her breathing was different from usual; there was an air of uncontrollable urges. So, I increased the frequency, thrusting continuously for about ten minutes. My daughter's fingers involuntarily dug into the flesh of my arm.

I felt that my daughter was about to reach some kind of climax. There had been a similar experience before, but I hadn't brought her to the peak. It wasn't that I lacked the ability, but I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to turn her into a little slut. And once a woman tastes the pleasure of orgasm, she becomes unrestrained.

Perhaps because she was covered by the blanket, my daughter's moans were no longer suppressed; the pleasurable penetration made it impossible for her to hold back. And my movement had become mechanical. Just as I couldn't control myself, I couldn't control my daughter's ascent towards that peak. As our hearts raced, I felt I was utterly raping her. The initial caution and tenderness I felt were gone. I felt a few more thrusts and she would scream. I stopped, pulled a corner of the blanket over her to bite, and then adjusted to my tightest position, thrusting my hips.

My daughter's orgasm came earlier than I expected, and it was even more terrifying than I anticipated. While I was still thrusting violently, her body jerked up three or four times. At the same time, I felt a few powerful clenchings inside her—those were the most unbearable for a man. Before I even made my final thrust, I ejaculated… I continued for a while, until the throbbing completely subsided, before withdrawing. By then, my daughter lying beneath me was completely still. I lay down and hugged her. She seemed lifeless. I was terrified. Had I really killed my daughter?

I gently shook her, and after a moment, I finally heard her exhale. God! What a beast I was! How could I have done this to my daughter!

Looking back, it was indeed too intense. Could I have hurt her?

I pulled back the covers, but they weren't needed anymore. My daughter remained lying still. I sat up, parted her legs, and checked for bleeding. It was too dark, so I had to lean down to observe. Seeing no blood, I wiped it away. I lay back down, hugged my daughter, and we cuddled before I fell asleep.

The genuine father-daughter bond will likely lead to a different outcome: my sixth daughter is now eighteen.

In the past five years, my daughter has given me so much. I love her deeply, and I know she loves her mother deeply too. She did all this not only for me but also to keep her mother, to prevent me from abandoning her.

I regret that I haven't described my daughter and what we did as lewd. I'm simply telling you my true story; I've never viewed them as lewd. I believe her mother's playful, educational approach objectively diluted the immorality of incest, something most people wouldn't do. This is probably why my daughter wasn't traumatized by incest and is living a healthy life like any other child.

This September, I sent my daughter to a top national university. Her scores weren't that high; I paid for her admission. I know she's an adult now, and I can't keep bothering her. Let her live freely!

As for me, the only thing I can do is protect my daughter with my life and do everything in my power to ensure her happiness…

"It's our daughter's birthday on the 16th of this month, aren't you going to see her?"

My wife came back from the market, bought a bunch of vegetables, and asked me as she picked them. "Didn't you hear me?"

"Yes, I heard you."

"These past two years you've been busy at the factory, you haven't taken care of our daughter at all."

"How can I not take care of her? Didn't I send her money last month? She's so old now, she doesn't need me anymore!"

"You're heartless! Let me tell you, it doesn't matter if you're not good to me, I don't have many days left anyway, but if you're not good to our daughter, you're really doing a terrible deed!"

"You're talking about this again! Don't worry! You'll live to be a hundred."

"You'd be hoping I..."

"What are you muttering about? How am I not good to you? How am I not good to our daughter?? Muttering! Muttering! Okay, okay, I'll go, get my things ready!"

To be honest, it's not that I don't want to see my daughter, it's just that I feel uneasy. During the years my daughter lived at home, I didn't feel awkward. But once she went out, seeing her alone made me feel embarrassed. This embarrassment stemmed from lingering feelings, especially since my daughter was exceptionally accomplished. Her figure and looks were comparable to movie stars; seeing her round bottom and full breasts made my heart pound… Since she started high school and lived at school, she rarely came home. She probably became shy, knowing how shameful it would be if word got out! I was afraid of interfering with her studies and affecting her health, so I tried my best to avoid her. She came home once every two weeks, and as soon as she did, I would hide at the factory.

But my daughter is truly a good daughter, a rare find. She's still willing to do anything if her father needs her. It's just that she becomes more and more shy each time! If I don't initiate, she keeps her distance.

During those three years of high school, I only slept with her five or six times.

Shy as she was, it was incredibly exciting when we actually did it! Perhaps it was because of her shyness that she was more easily aroused. When I entered her, her youthful body could no longer conceal her bashfulness; she would become breathless after a few thrusts. And like her mother, she was very excited during orgasm! It's just that she was shy about performing under her father. But I could sense it… During the year and a half I was in college, I didn't visit her once! Every time she called, her mother answered, and I would hear my daughter mention me. Suddenly, one time I answered, and I didn't expect it to be her. When my daughter heard it was her father, they were both silent for a long time. I broke the silence first.

After hanging up the phone, my heart was pounding wildly! I thought of my daughter's almost perfectly developed body, I thought of her sweet—not lewd—moans under me, I thought of her wet, youthful vagina that was always full of vitality when I entered her… Ah! Why hasn't God punished me? So many years, so many times, yet I haven't gotten my daughter pregnant even once! Sometimes I think about it and I'm scared: Is it because I developed her too early, ruined her? But then I thought about it again, and it didn't make sense! Was it always just a coincidence? Was it always during her safe period?

That's how men are: on one hand, they're afraid of getting their partners pregnant; on the other hand, if they don't get pregnant, they start to doubt their fertility. Besides, every time I fill my daughter's vagina completely, and at that moment, while my penis can still stretch her tender vagina, I always regretfully—comfortingly—thrust a few more times, eliciting those lewd moans… When I let my daughter go, I'm determined not to bother her anymore, to let her have her own life, her own family in the future. At the same time, I'm not without guilt, without remorse: will this leave a shadow on my daughter's heart? Will it affect her future life?

"Can you really let go?" My wife asked me this after seeing how depressed I was a month after our daughter left.

"Of course I can! She's so grown up, do you think I'd cling to her forever?" I replied with heartache.

"Other things are fine, but this kind of thing... hehe..." My wife said with a "sly" smile, "Unless you never see her again, how could you forget her?"

"I'm not like your father, don't compare me to him!" she said defiantly.

Love continues, and so does our story: Seventh, under my constant urging, my wife finally admitted one day that her father and her older sister had committed incest. When my wife talked about her father and her older sister, she didn't seem disgusted at all; instead, I could hear a hint of regret, as if she regretted not having experienced it herself, or that her father hadn't slept with her. Although she didn't express it directly, I could tell.

Therefore, I really wanted to know from her older sister whether this would cause psychological trauma to our daughter.

Later, her older sister came to my house, and I joked with her. She teased me back, "Can you handle it?"

"What can I do if I can't? Aren't you going to help?!"

"You don't even care about this old, wooden thing of mine?"

After a while, the jokes started to become serious, and my wife didn't care. Eventually, we actually slept together.

Then I started trying to get her to admit it. At first, she wouldn't confess, but after a few tries, she finally admitted it.

"Don't you find it disgusting now that you're older?" I asked.

"It's not so bad once you've thought it through..."

"When did you start to feel unwilling?"

"...I forgot, probably after I started middle school, I felt ashamed..." "

Has it stopped now that you're older?"

"Yes, it has..."

"Ever since I planned to see my daughter, my heart starts pounding whenever I think about her.

The last time I was with her was this summer.

When I walked in the door and saw my daughter was back, I was momentarily at a loss, not knowing where to look. The moment my gaze fell on her snow-white, bare thighs and trembling breasts, my blood rushed.

My daughter noticed my thoughts, and the two of us acted like long-lost lovers. We wanted to be intimate but were too shy, and we wanted to avoid each other but soon we were back in front of each other. When her mother was inside, it was fine, we made conversation. But as soon as her mother was out of sight, the two of us suddenly fell silent, seemingly trying to maintain even breathing, seemingly pretending nothing was wrong... But, a woman, once she has received pleasure from a man—to put it bluntly, once she has been satisfied with being with a man—she will not forget that man, especially after so much fear and panic." Excitement, thrill... My daughter inherited that gene from her mother; she's naturally drawn to having her dad have sex with her. She'd liked him since she was just fourteen. If she didn't, why would she repeatedly spread her legs beneath her father, welcoming his arrival with her tender, melting stream of desire?

Those who haven't experienced this can't imagine. Each time I ejaculated inside my daughter, the passion was indescribable, my heart instantly wild! Just like I wrote in my first piece: If I face the sea, I will let out a roar that reaches the heavens, causing the sea to surge with giant waves! If I face the mountains, I will let out a roar that makes the mountains tremble, causing the mountains to echo! If I face the grasslands, I will roar at the distant white clouds, causing the grasslands to bloom with wildflowers. If I dare to face this world, I will roar at all fathers in the world, come to our daughters!

The night before I left, I was anxious, I was excited. My heart had clearly thought about it, more than once, but were the conditions right? It wouldn't be convenient outside, and would my daughter even be willing? Could I still bring myself to do it?

"Too excited to sleep?" "My wife saw I wasn't asleep and teased me.

'What's so exciting?!'

'I'm going to see my little sweetheart, aren't I excited?'

'Nonsense.' I said hypocritically.

'Stop pretending, don't I know you?! Back when you were dating me, you wanted to devour me the moment you saw me, and the first thing you did was touch me down there, hehe.'

I thought for a moment and asked my wife, 'Would she still be willing?'

'Who knows.'

'If...you, would you still be willing?'

My wife was silent for a long time.

'Tell me? If...when you were a child...would your father be willing? Do you hate your father now that you're grown up?'

'I didn't...'

'Think about it, are you disgusted?' 'You

're so frivolous!'" "

Your dad's done it before, just imagine..."

"My daughter didn't say she hated you or disliked you much in front of me. You two did it during the summer vacation, didn't you...? It seems she's willing..."

But this summer, my daughter didn't seem too willing, or maybe she was shy, or maybe she felt that she was grown up and her dad shouldn't bother her anymore. But she still let me fuck her, and her vagina was still so wet, and she didn't seem to have any aversion. Or maybe she didn't like the role I played? She seemed to be expecting something?

"I said, if it were you, would you be willing?"

"Why do you keep bringing me up? I didn't..." "You

regret not letting your dad fuck you when you were little, right?"

"These things... if it happens, it happens. If it doesn't happen, I don't think about it. Who would think about having their dad fuck them when they were little? When both sides are right, it happens... It's not like it's never happened before, I've heard about it before..." Don't

underestimate my wife just because she's a country woman; sometimes she says things with a philosophical edge.

"Do you know when your older sister started having sex with your dad..."

"You know?"

"I asked your older sister, and she said it started when she was nine..."

"I don't believe it!" "That little bit is enough? It should be at least twelve or thirteen."

"She said it herself."

"She doesn't hate my dad, and she's still like that now..."

"That's strange!"

"Strange what?"

"Why didn't your dad..."

"You're getting more and more ridiculous. You actually want that? Aren't you furious? You still want me?"

"I'm not angry! Next time you go back, let your dad have his way with you, hehe..."

"Get lost!" My wife laughed. "Are you regretting it?"

"A little."

"Actually, when I was little... once my dad touched me... I was scared, so I ran away."

"Scared about what? Touching feels so good." I teased her.

"Back then I was young, I didn't know what was good or bad, I just knew it wasn't good to let someone touch my private parts..."

"Then why didn't you say that before?"

"Why say these things? It's not a good thing!"

"Why isn't it a good thing?"

"That's a good thing for you men!"

"So you hate your dad?"

"No, why would I hate my own dad? If someone else touches me, I'll hate it." "

Strange? It's a family trait!"

"Your family has a genetic predisposition, don't you? Didn't you used to climb on top of your mother when you were little? Hehehe."

"I didn't understand back then... Sigh, tell me, is it ever a son who sleeps with his own mother?"

"Hahahaha! You're getting more and more outrageous! Never heard of such a thing!"

"Come on, let's see if it works."

"Forget it, you should save it for your daughter."

On September 26th, the 16th day of the eighth lunar month, early in the morning, with excited yet complicated feelings, I embarked on my journey to visit my daughter.

It wasn't over yet, the thick semen hadn't even finished ejaculating: my daughter probably received a call from her mother in advance and went to the station to pick me up. Although I was very eager on the way, once we arrived, perhaps in a public place, the father and daughter met peacefully and said whatever they wanted.

That night, I stayed at their school's guesthouse, but now guesthouses are like hotels. I asked for a standard room.

My daughter had dinner with me and returned to the hotel. I said, "Go back, I'm afraid I won't be able to control myself. It's not that doing something like that is a big deal, but I'm afraid of being discovered, which would ruin my daughter."

“Dad.”

“Hmm.”

My daughter seemed to have something to say. After a while, she lowered her head, looking at her magazine, and asked, “Do you…and Mom still…do you still have that kind of thing?”

I was slightly surprised, but immediately realized that my daughter had grown up, become an adult, and could discuss such matters with her father.

“Occasionally.”

“…………” My daughter didn’t say anything, continuing to look down at her book, showing no intention of leaving immediately. If I wanted to, she would definitely comply, but I really wanted to know what she was thinking, what she had been thinking since that time when she was thirteen.

“Have you…hated Dad?” I finally asked.

“Hated what?” My daughter raised her face, then quickly lowered it again to flip through the magazine. Obviously, she knew what I meant.

"It's good that you don't hate me, otherwise Daddy wouldn't have the face to see you!"

"How hypocritical!" My daughter raised her face again, smiling shyly, "When I go back for summer vacation..." As

I listened, the blood in my body rushed again, my heart pounding, but I couldn't bring myself to say those things, asking my daughter if she hated me, as if I had committed a crime. My daughter was right, it was a bit hypocritical!

The air in the room stagnated for a moment, then my daughter stood up: "Don't want to? I'm leaving."

How could I not want to? I went over, and in that instant, perhaps I imagined hugging her like a father would, but as soon as I reached out my arm, she excitedly threw herself into my arms, as if she couldn't breathe... I stayed one night, and the next day, I had to go back. The first night, my daughter didn't stay in a hotel, but at my request, she left her underwear behind.

My daughter saw me off at the train station.

"Dad, let's buy a computer when we get back. What era are we living in? So old-fashioned! Buy one so Mom can learn too, then I won't have to call anymore. I can chat with you online all night for free."

"They're not popular where we live yet. My factory has one."

"Oh, the factory is the factory, and home is home. Besides, if you miss me, hehe, you can still see me."

"Okay."

"Definitely! I'll buy one when we get back!" My daughter whispered in my ear, "I want to tell you a secret. Do you want to know if I hate you?"

"Do you hate me or not?" I asked softly.

"Yes!"

"Really?"

"I hate you last night," my daughter leaned closer, "I hate how cruel you were to your daughter! Bye-bye!" Then she turned and ran away.

My heart didn't calm down until I sat down and the car started moving. I closed my eyes, thinking about my daughter's last words.

From reality to the internet, endless emotions and love: How was Jiu cruel? Aren't they all the same? I didn't feel like I used any force. But I don't know why, as soon as I enter my daughter's body, it becomes so strong! In the beginning—I mean when she was little—I tried my best not to thrust into her. Since she started middle school, I've been wanting her only once every six months, and I've been thrusting into her like that! And you like it, don't you? You just didn't urge me to "fuck harder!" like your mother did. I can't tell you're so excited. Besides, what's with all the fluid in your vagina? Can you fool yourself, but can you fool your father? Would there be so much fluid if you weren't uncomfortable?

Outside the home, my daughter has become bolder! I really didn't expect her to actively look at my erect penis; she's never asked to see it before. We have very traditional sex at home. Aside from kissing her twice, I've never shown her my penis. (Except for that time we met in the outhouse, but it wasn't intentional then.)

To be honest, I'm embarrassed to show it to her. It's not like when I was younger, I could get it really hard without using my hands. Every time I show it to her mother, her mother practically wants to take off her pants immediately, haha.

No, not now. My skin is so dark, it looks awful! I don't want to ruin my fatherly image in front of my daughter, haha!

But my daughter obviously wanted to see! For the first time, we took off our clothes without turning off the lights. When I was about to have sex with her, she looked up at her genitals, watching how I entered her… There's a saying I really don't want to use on my daughter. It's what the men in our area say: "A cheap cunt doesn't grow hair!" It means that if a woman is particularly good to a man, she'll definitely have little pubic hair. But using that on my daughter would be a bit of an insult to her. But, I'm not lying to you, my daughter's pubic hair is indeed sparse, very sparse! I remember she had this much pubic hair when she was fourteen, and even at eighteen or nineteen, when she should be an adult, she still had so little pubic hair, only a little longer than when she was fourteen. And her mons pubis was still so prominent, forming a very distinct triangle below her lower abdomen with her groin area—which made me instantly excited whenever I pulled down her panties, the kind of feeling that makes me want to fuck her the moment I see her… I don’t dare think about it anymore, my crotch is already bulging, there’s a lady next to me, I don’t want anyone to see, I’ll think about it when I get home, yeah! Every time I finish with my daughter, I have enough to reminisce about for half a year, no! A lifetime!

Following my daughter’s instructions, I bought a computer on the third day after I got back. Her mother disagreed, but I told her what my daughter had said, and she didn’t stop me. I quickly ran to the county town and brought one back, but to get internet access, I had to wait another week, and I had to ask an acquaintance to help me get it.

I taught my wife first, to get her interested, and she stopped complaining.

Finally, I chatted with my daughter online for the first time, and we could see and hear each other clearly, so my wife finally liked it.

I’m very busy at the factory, and I rarely go home. Since we got a computer at home, I’ve been going home more often. Even my wife said, “My daughter is so charming!”

That day, my wife said that my daughter wanted to talk to me, saying what time it would be, and told me to wait.

I waited, my heart pounding with anxiety, as if I were really about to sleep with my daughter, as if I weren't waiting for my daughter, but for a woman!

Yes, from the moment I visited her this time, I felt she was another woman to me, and my daughter seemed to see me as her man.

My daughter has changed so much in the year or so she's been away: she's even changed her local dialect, speaking perfect Mandarin. Before, if someone from the village went away for a year or two and came back, they wouldn't be able to speak their dialect anymore; it sounded so awkward, and I'd curse them in my heart. But hearing my daughter speak Mandarin is so beautiful, so very beautiful! Even calling out "Dad" sounds so sweet, like hearing a city daughter call her father on TV, with a high-pitched, sweet voice. Not only does she speak beautifully, but she's also become more outgoing, sunny, and even more affectionate.

In our rural area, daughters tend to become less affectionate with their fathers as they grow older, and older girls are even less likely to walk arm-in-arm with their fathers. But that day, after my daughter had dinner with me, she linked arms with me on the way back to school. I didn't feel awkward at all; I only felt a slight unease mixed with warmth. My daughter didn't seem awkward either, and she didn't let go when we met her classmates.

Of course, what made me realize she was a woman wasn't any of that, but rather in bed—no! It was from the moment she threw herself into my arms, passionately biting my shoulder, passionately rolling around in my arms on the bed, passionately kissing me… And her passion made me, as her father, even more restrained. I couldn't be too lewd with my daughter, yet I had to cater to her passion. In the years we were at home, when I had sex with her, she usually let me do it obediently. This time she was different; she wasn't obedient for a single minute—how had my daughter become so wanton!

But sometimes she hadn't changed, and that was her moaning—still so shy, and still so sweet! Sweet as a clear spring flowing through the desert, it urges travelers to rush towards it, then collapse at the edge, take a hearty sip, and feel a refreshing, bone-chilling sensation!

Thinking about it, my lower abdomen started to heat up.

(Beep beep beep.) My daughter finally came online.

"Are you there, Daddy? " "

Yes."

"Is Mommy there?" "

No.

" "No need for voice messages today, it's inconvenient for me to speak here, just type. "

"Okay, I type slowly. " "

Haha! It 's okay ." "Are you feeling well ?" "Yes, thank you, Daddy. " "How are you? How is Mommy? " "Yes ." "That's good." "What is it?" "Daddy." "Do you want to know if I hate you? " "Yes." "I don't hate you." "Really." "Really!!! ... " (Beep beep beep) You don't believe me, Dad?" "Good heavens! So cheesy, and 'I love you!' My daughter is shameless!" My wife said with a laugh. "Go away, go away." "Okay, okay, I won't look. Let's chat." My wife walked away. "Beep beep beep, Dad, are you there?" "Yes, your mother is here." "Beep beep beep, are you still there?" "She's gone." "Dad?" "Yes." "I know you feel guilty." "Yes. " "Haha, then why do you still want me?" "You like me, right?" "Yes." "Thank you for telling the truth. " "You've never hated me?" "No, I was afraid." "When?" "In middle school." "I was afraid." "Very afraid!" "Back then, a girl at our school got pregnant, and I got scared. I didn't dare see you when I got home." "Later, I saw you deliberately avoiding me, and I wasn't scared anymore." "I know you did it for my own good." "I know you're a good dad." "Also a bad dad, haha, a very, very bad dad." (My daughter typed a string of words, and I just looked at it without replying.) "Are you there, Dad?" "Yes." "Okay, you don't need to type. Just read what I say. Ask me whatever you want." "Okay." "Actually, you don't need to feel guilty. It's not just your fault." "Or maybe there's no fault at all. Neither of us is wrong." "I was always yours." "Thank you for thinking that way, my good daughter." "Actually, you shouldn't have felt guilty a long time ago." "If I hated you, would I still be with you?" " Looking at these words emanating from a woman's heart, I felt both moved and excited, especially since my daughter boldly brought up that matter. To be honest, it was the first time I'd discussed sex face-to-face with my daughter like this, and I was still hesitant. Thankfully, it was typed; I simply couldn't have said it aloud. 'Were you willing from the beginning?' I asked, because I hadn't gotten a definite answer from my wife's older sister. She's a rural woman; if I hadn't pressured her, she wouldn't have said anything, or if she had, it would have been vague. My daughter is educated; she understands these kinds of issues. I believe she has the ability to judge, and besides, she's an adult; there's no need for her to avoid the topic of her incestuous relationship with her father. 'Beep beep beep, yes, but I can't say for sure. What did I know back then?' 'Bad!!!' 'I'm not talking about this with you, you're bad!!!' 'Dad?'" “ Hmm.” “I’m logging off now, I still need to read.” “Okay, go ahead, thank you for telling Dad what was on your mind.” “ We’ll talk again later.” “Okay, goodbye. ” “Goodbye.” “Dad?” “Want to know how I feel?” "Then let me tell you, I was so happy in the hotel that day." After saying this, my daughter logged off, but my heart pounded wildly! Intimacy began like this: It was such a passionate night! Unlike the restraint at home, we both felt relaxed, our passion completely released. Watching my daughter panting beneath me, moaning with boundless ecstasy, I almost forgot she was my own daughter. I thrust into her body almost frantically… I finally understood something: my daughter was an adult now; she no longer liked playing the passive role in sex! Yes, I finally realized that I had been too focused on my own feelings, neglecting her. I was too selfish, only knowing how to satisfy myself. I always felt she was too young, and even her one or two orgasms felt excessive—how could someone so young reach orgasm? Furthermore, I neglected my daughter's body. That's right! Despite committing this incestuous act, I'm still very traditional when it comes to sex, as I've mentioned before. The reason I neglected her body was because, as a father, I couldn't be too vulgar with my daughter. In my opinion… Touching a daughter's breasts and such behavior are considered too vulgar, while the union of sexual organs seems to be a matter of course, more animalistic, and therefore a natural process.

This time at the hotel near her school, my daughter's behavior proved that she needed her father to treat her like a woman. She first gave me this hint: she started caressing my skin, and we rolled around on the bed. Then I caressed her whole body, and she immediately looked ecstatic. I hadn't seen her naked body since she grew up, and that night I was also captivated. Such beautiful breasts, such a beautiful figure, even whiter than her mother's skin. It's a pity her mother was already twenty when she met me; why didn't she meet me when she was thirteen or fourteen?

What excited me most was when my daughter looked up, watching my fully erect, red penis enter her.

Now, I finally know that I can do anything with my daughter! There are several things I haven't done yet. First, I didn't put my penis in my daughter's mouth. I always thought that was too vulgar, too unbecoming of a father. Second, I didn't kiss her genitals this time. I wanted to, but when I touched it, it was already very wet, so I gave up. I've never liked kissing a woman's genitals; I'm very traditional, as I've said before. But my daughter is different. I believe I can do it. I kissed her twice when she was thirteen or fourteen, but not very boldly. Next time, I'll have her wash it and I'll definitely kiss her to my heart's content! Also, I must ejaculate in her mouth, let her taste Daddy's semen. I believe she'll like it. Furthermore, I haven't said any dirty words to my daughter, or heard her say dirty words to me. I like to say dirty words while having sex. I like the woman under me saying to me: "Fuck me harder!" If one day, my daughter also says to me: "Daddy, fuck me," how exciting would that be!

Well, the heart that has been clenched for six or seven years has finally been put at ease! Thank you, daughter, my good daughter, I finally understand her inner world. Actually, I realized a long time ago that I had fallen in love with her, but this love terrified me even more because I let her go in the first place to give her freedom. But will my love truly set her free?

Every day I turn on my computer, waiting for my daughter. Even if she doesn't come online, she'll leave me a message. Actually, I like her leaving messages; it's almost like reading a letter. There are things we might not be able to say in a chat, and I don't want her to come every day, afraid it will interfere with her studies.

That day, I opened POPO and found a message from my daughter:

"Bad Daddy, I've felt guilty too, I've struggled internally, and I know this relationship isn't normal. I've read many books on this topic. This isn't just happening between you and me; there are many, many fathers and daughters in the world like us. So, I'm not afraid anymore. I love you, Daddy, I truly love you, I've loved you since I was little. Daddy loves me too, I believe! So, let's not feel guilty, because we love each other. We're not afraid, and you shouldn't be afraid either. We know it's our secret, a shy secret. Do you know, Daddy, you've already possessed my body and soul, and you're the only one in my heart. I've belonged to you since I was thirteen, I truly believe that. Although I've been afraid, even ashamed, I've never hated you.

Do you know, Daddy, you're a good dad, a good man. Daddy, do you want to know what it feels like to be under you? Then I'll tell you: crazy! I like you being crazy like that too! Ah—I can't say anymore, Daddy, I miss you…"

I read it over and over again, every word making my heart race, making me masturbate. Ah! My daughter! You always aroused my desire, ever since you were thirteen. Even though you didn't know how to flirt or cooperate back then, your obedience was the best form of cooperation. That slight smile of yours was flirting!

From the day I possessed you, every smile you gave me was an indulgence. From that day on, I cared so much about your moods. If I ever saw you unhappy, I felt like a criminal, always waiting for the police to come and arrest me. Yes, daughter, if you ever showed disgust, aversion, or resistance, I would never bother you again! But you didn't. You were so obedient, as if afraid of upsetting me… Six years ago, at her mother's instigation, I and my own daughter embarked on this incestuous path of no return! It was a situation of extreme highs and lows! When I was one with my daughter, my heart raced. The thrill of incest rejuvenated me. The psychological stimulation combined with the stimulation of my daughter's natural physiology made my penis always so strong, each thrust so unforgettable, as if stimulating to the very marrow of my bones. But after each time, my heart would immediately sink. The heavy guilt prevented me from holding my head high in public. Although I had been very successful in my career over the years, becoming a small-time boss, or as officials would say, a "farmer entrepreneur," even the town leaders had started to fawn over me, every time I got drunk, I wanted to cry... I forced myself time and time again to end the incestuous relationship with my daughter, not to ruin her future, but time and time again I returned to that vortex of incest, unable to escape, and getting deeper and deeper, unable to extricate myself. Because every time I was with my daughter, she performed better than the last, showing no sign of disgust towards her father, which only fueled my lust.

I still remember my daughter's first orgasm, which surprised me greatly. When I first had sex with my young daughter, I only wanted to satisfy myself, as long as it didn't cause her pain or harm her body. So, whenever I needed her, it was always when she was happy or when I was trying to make her happy; I never forced her.

But I never expected her orgasm to come so early! About four or five times, that night I suddenly noticed her breathing was different from before. I was about to ejaculate when I noticed her unusual expression: her face was tense, and her hands were gripping the blanket tightly. I wondered if I was making her feel good? I rested for a moment and continued thrusting. My daughter became increasingly tense until her body jerked powerfully a few times. Suddenly, like her mother, her vagina gripped my penis tightly and spasmed several times… I was overjoyed, extremely satisfied. My daughter could do this too! But she was not even fourteen years old at the time! How could I have known that my young daughter could achieve orgasm?! Because I hadn't been with her mother much, though her mother would get incredibly excited and swear, it was rare for her to experience vaginal spasms from me...

But that harmony disappeared later. My son grew up, and I was afraid he'd notice, so I stopped letting my daughter sleep on the same bed with us, making it less convenient to do that kind of thing. When I wanted to, it was only when my son wasn't home, and I didn't dare take off my clothes and get into bed for a proper time. Sometimes I'd have my daughter lie on the edge of the bed, and I'd penetrate her from behind for a bit. Although my daughter seemed willing to cooperate, she seemed more shy, especially after starting middle school. She'd always make me finish quickly, pull up my pants, and run away to hide. A couple of times, I even made her go to school with her underwear soaked in my semen... I felt like I was no different from an animal. I'm very traditional when it comes to sex; I like to build up the emotions and then do it comfortably.

Perhaps my daughter's passionate words made me feel embarrassed, and it wasn't until two weeks later that we returned to the screen.

"Is Mom home?"

"No."

"Do you miss me

?" "Say it!

" "Yes.

" "You naughty thing!"

"But don't let it interfere with your studies."

"Don't worry, university isn't high school. Teachers don't care; you have to rely on yourself." "My grades are fine." "What

do you want to say?" "

Anything."

"Hahaha, anything?" "

As long as it doesn't interfere with your studies." "

You're so nagging, so boring. If you keep saying this, I'm ignoring you."

"Okay, I won't say anything."

"Daddy's so good."

"Mmm."

"I want to know about your first time with Mommy, hahahahaha!"

"You naughty thing!"

"Tell me, be honest

." "Why do I need to talk about that

?" "Is it fun?"

"That's Mommy and Daddy's secret, a child shouldn't know."

"You're so smart."

"What?"

"You know you shouldn't talk about your bedroom activities with another woman in front of the woman you like."

"I have secrets too."

It was the first time I'd seen my daughter refer to herself as her father's woman.

"That sounds a bit cold," I replied.

"You're allowed to have secrets, but I'm not?"

"No, it's the part before that, I still prefer to see you as my daughter, not a woman."

"Haha, of course, that would be more exciting, right?"

"I guess so." "What secrets do you have?"

"I won't tell you."

"You have a boyfriend?" As I said that, my heart ached. I had never dared to imagine letting another man contaminate my daughter's vagina.

"No, no, you're my boyfriend, hehe."

"Dad?"

"Yes."

"It was so nice that you came that day."

"Yes."

"Do you like me like that?"

"Yes.

" "Really?"

"Really."

"Then why didn't you before?"

"Well, maybe we didn't have the right conditions."

"Nonsense."

"Even if it's nonsense."

"Haha." "Then tell me about our first time."

"How?"

"Okay, I'll give you a hint. Tell me about that time when we went to my aunt's house, we slept in the same bed. Did you think about it?"

"Not really."

"What do you mean 'not really'? If you thought about it, just say so."

"You remember?"

"Of course."

"I remember waking up in the morning and seeing your thing sticking out, hehe."

"So what did you think?"

"I was so confused, how did it come out while I was asleep?"

"I wasn't scared."

"Dad, of course I wasn't scared."

"You really wanted it the first time, it wasn't Mom who persuaded you."

"That's true, if Mom hadn't said that, how would I know if it was okay?" "I just don't know how you managed to put such a big thing inside me, haha,"

"Did it hurt?"

"I'm not going to say it, you're so mean! If you mention it, I'll just..."

"I won't say it.

" "How's things at your place

?" "Fine. Do you have any money left?

" "Enough. I'll deposit it next month." "

By the way, did you like my messages?

" " Yes. "

"Then I'll leave you more. Sometimes I'll be online for half an hour, and if you're not here, I'll leave you a message. It's more convenient than a phone call. " "Okay." "Goodbye, kisses, Dad." "Goodbye." "Not going to give me a kiss? So stingy!!!" "Okay, a kiss." "Kiss my lips." "Okay." "### " (I added three red lips,) "### " (My daughter also replied with three.) The more we talked, the more comfortable I became, and the more I treated my daughter as a woman or a lover, but in my heart, I was still thinking about my daughter; the more we talked, the bolder I became, to the point that every time it involved sex. Look at the message my daughter left me: "Bad Dad: Do you want to know about your daughter's first time? I'll tell you, I was ignorant about sex back then. If I had known it would hurt so much, I wouldn't have let you fuck me, hehe (Do you like this dirty word? If you don't like it, I won't use it next time, haha, I like it). At that age, I thought other dads and daughters did that too, so I wasn't too scared, and my mom agreed. I thought, would my mom hurt me? So I wasn't afraid. I was just curious, curious about what that dirty word meant. It was this word 'fuck' that aroused my curiosity. I wanted to know what it was all about, so I agreed. But when you entered, I was scared. How could it be so big? It hurt so much! After that thing went in, it felt so strange. I can't describe the feeling, but it was uncomfortable and weird. I knew it was a man's thing, that's all I thought." The ending, however, wasn't the end of the story: On the second day of the National Day holiday, Mom said that the first time was always painful, but it wouldn't hurt after that. I wondered, why would there be a second time? When would the second time be? I wasn't going to do it anymore, but Mom still reassured me that it was okay, that other people did it too. I thought it couldn't be harmful, otherwise, would Dad have hurt me? The second time, Dad moved around, which was even stranger. Why was he moving around like that? It didn't hurt anymore, which was strange... Dad? Tell me, how could you have the nerve to put that inside me? Hehe. "Bad Dad: I'm going out with my classmates this weekend and don't have time to chat with you. Did you see my last message? Why haven't you replied? Also, I have another idea. When I have time, I want to write down our experience and post it on a forum so everyone can discuss it. Do you support me?" (I left her a message saying that I had already written down our experience and posted it on a forum.) "Dad: Are you serious? Which forum? You can write articles?" Tell me, I'll go see if what you wrote is vulgar, haha, did you write about me? I definitely need to see it, I want to know how you feel. I know you're embarrassed to tell your daughter. You didn't portray me as a bad girl, did you? Give me the website address of that forum, please, or I'll ignore you." (I told her that forum wasn't for girls. I also told her I'd deposited money for her and told her not to spend it recklessly.) "What? What forum doesn't allow girls? I don't believe it. I'm not a child anymore. We occasionally go to forums like that, but boys like them more, girls don't—no! I have to know what you wrote! I need to know how you feel. Otherwise, send me the article. If you don't send it, I'll never talk to you again!!!" I also want to tell you that I often have dreams like that, dreams where you're in them. The other night, I dreamt that someone touched me, but it wasn't you, it was another relative. You were leaning against the edge of the kang (heated brick bed) watching that relative touch me, your hand was inside your pants, moving, hehe. When I woke up, I really wanted to…

(As I read these words, I couldn't stop masturbating. It wasn't the first time; I masturbate for a while every time I read my daughter's comments. I didn't care about the other "relative" she mentioned because I've had similar dreams. I even dreamt about my mother... The more I thought about it, the more excited I became. I wondered what my daughter would think after reading what I wrote. After much consideration, since I couldn't have sex with her, I decided to fantasize about her. My heart pounded for a long time, but I still deleted the part about her mother before "posting" it.) "Oh my god! Dad, you're so talented! You actually posted it on the forum? Shameless!!! And that word 'fuck'? Haha, you still like that dirty word, and so do I. I can't even read it anymore, it's too obscene! Haha! So you did it on purpose when you showed up at your aunt's house!" Bad! You're seducing me! So bad! Is it really that wonderful? That exciting? That thrilling? Does my little pussy (I learned this word from you) really make you like it that much? Oh my god! I'm so embarrassed! How could you write this out? Daddy fucking daughter and you still have the nerve to tell others, shameful! Shameful! But, it seems incomplete. It doesn't seem to start from the beginning. There are two disjointed parts in the middle. Also, you've omitted a lot of things, a lot about me.

Also, Daddy, buy me a laptop, okay? Our dorm got broadband, and all four of us girls are vying to see who can buy a laptop first. Please grant my wish, Daddy, good Daddy. Kiss you!

Are you busy this Saturday night? If not, I want to talk to you. "On

Saturday, two groups of clients came to my factory. After dealing with them, I still didn't forget to go home to 'see' my daughter. But I was already quite drunk. I stumbled home, and my wife was talking to our daughter on a voice call."

"Your dad's back. Want to talk to him?" "I think he's had enough to drink. You two can chat." My wife took off her headphones after saying that. "Just got back? You've had too much to drink. Want some tea?"

"Get me a carton of milk first."

"My daughter's been waiting for you."

"Beep beep beep, Dad? He's back?"

"After you finish talking to him, delete those things," my wife said, handing me the carton. "Don't let anyone see it."

"You saw it?"

"It's okay if I see it, just don't let others see it."

"Beep beep beep, Dad? I'm logging off if you don't answer me?"

"Okay, okay, you can go out now.

" "Just use the microphone. Typing is too slow."

"None of your business. Go, go, go." I urged my wife to leave.

"Coming, baby."

(Beep beep beep) "Why are you so sour today? Haha, had too much to drink?"

"I can't call you baby if I'm not drunk."

"Haha, Dad, you're so cute today. Kisses."

"###￥￥￥" I replied with three red lips and three roses.

"Dad, my heart is beating so fast."

"Me too."

"Dad, you're bad." "Why did you write that? I've read 'Daughter Red' so many times, and it makes me feel so uncomfortable..."

"Uncomfortable with what?"

"Uncomfortable in a certain way."

"How uncomfortable?" I'd been drinking, and my heart was racing, becoming unrestrained.

"I just want to..."

"Want what?"

"You know, you're bad!!!!!!!!!!"

I wrapped my penis in my daughter's underwear and masturbated incessantly, my mind urging, "Tell me, tell me what you want! Say it!"

After a while, seeing that I hadn't replied, my daughter sent me what I most wanted to see:

"I want you to fuck me!"

Good! I was just waiting for her to say that. It was so satisfying, so exciting. My hand went into my crotch and started playing with it. Even though I'd been drinking, it wasn't as strong, but my desire was still very intense. "

Really?"

"Of course!!!!!!!!! Bad Dad, I can't say anymore, it's so uncomfortable!!!"

"I want to too." "

Don't say it!!!" "You said I'm even more upset, it's inconvenient for me here, do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I think I understand a little."

"Are you like that too?"

"Yes.

" "Now?"

"Yes.

" "Dad? I can't take it anymore!!! Come here, I miss you."

"In a few days."

"Then what about tonight?" "Buy me a laptop, that way I can talk to you in my dorm and... do you understand? Dad, do you understand what I mean?"

"Okay! I'll save another ten thousand for you, you can buy whatever you want, I don't know much about computers." "Buy a good one."

"Okay, thank you Dad, hug me?"

"Okay, baby."

"The article is incomplete, are you afraid I'll see your secret? Post it all."

"Okay." "

Then say goodnight."

"Goodnight

!" Oh, daughter, if you were here with me tonight, I'd torture you to death! You little rascal!

I guess there's nothing wrong with that. My daughter's already let me have my way with her, let her see what happened with her mother. I reposted the whole article.

The next day I deposited money for her, and on Sunday night I saw her message:

"Dad: I went to buy a laptop this afternoon, a HP, only 6800. Thank you, Dad! I'll be waiting for you at 8:00 pm."

That night, as soon as I logged into POPO, I immediately heard a "beep beep beep" sound, followed by a long string of text. I looked, and it was the opening of my "Daughter's Red":

"At midnight, fueled by a little alcohol, I was wildly thrusting on my wife. The saying 'thirty is like a tiger' is absolutely true. My wife is just thirty-three, the perfect age for being fucked. I've been thrusting for half an hour, and I'm getting a little tired, but she's still full of enthusiasm."

"I'll fuck you to death!" I said fiercely, increasing the intensity of my movements.

My wife became even more excited upon hearing this. Women over thirty have no shame at all! I remember in the days leading up to our wedding, when I teased her with dirty words, she punched me hard twice and gave me a stern warning: "Don't you dare use dirty words again!" But men don't feel satisfied during sex without using a few dirty words. After my wife gave birth, when I teased her like that again, she just smiled, blushed for a moment, but didn't protest anymore. My wife finally became shameless, and I didn't get as excited when I used those dirty words anymore. But then one time I heard those dirty words from my wife's mouth, it stimulated me again. "Fuck me harder!"—that's how my wife would say in a coquettish way when she felt unsatisfied. "I'll let you fuck me as much as you want, come on!"—that's how my wife would say sweetly when she was excited.

But tonight, when I said those words fiercely, my wife followed up with,

"If you fuck me to death, who will you fuck next? Hehe." My wife knows I'm a decent person. Even though I've made money these past two years, I've never messed around outside. Was she trying to provoke me with those words?

"Fuck your daughter!" I said. In our rural area, it's as if daughters are born for their mothers, while sons are born for their fathers. Daughters, once grown up, are like a warm cotton-padded jacket for their mothers, knowing their love and warmth; sons, once grown up, are the root of the family, carrying on the lineage. So this traditional view has persisted to this day, as if daughters aren't really their fathers' children. It's like this in everyday life; the couple always talks about how your daughter is, how your son is, even though what's yours is mine too, but no one really thinks about it deeply. It's been passed down from the older generation, and we're used to it.

"Isn't she your daughter?" It's okay to say that normally, but saying it now felt a bit distant to my wife, so she said it with a grin beneath me.

The initial frenzy subsided, and I slowed down to rest, feeling my penis burning from the friction.

Hahahaha! So exciting! I know how you did it with Mom, it's so lewd, you bad father, how could you show this to your daughter? “

(Beep beep beep) Dad, you’re here.”

“Hmm.”

“Haha, I can’t stand it.”

“What ?

” “You wrote this.”

“You wanted to see it.”

“Dad.” “Do you know what I’m doing?”

“No.” “

Guess.” “I

can’t guess

.” “I’m in bed.”

My heart suddenly raced. But I changed the subject:

“Is the notebook working well?”

“Yes. Great, thank you, Dad.”

“Are you alone?”

“Yeah, I’ve read your ‘Daughter Red’ over and over again, it’s better than any pornographic book, haha.”

“You said what I wrote seems to have overlooked a lot about you?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Anyway, I’m not like that, anyway, I won’t tell you…”

“Then tell me your secret?”

“What secret?”

“You said last time you had a secret too, I’ve already told you my and your mother’s secret, shouldn’t you tell me too?”

“I’m afraid you’ll be angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

“Really?” “I

promise!!” "

Grandpa..." (that is, maternal grandfather) "What happened to Grandpa?"

"Something from when I was little."

"Tell me."

"Yes,"

when I was little, Grandpa held me, sitting on his lap, in the summer, Grandpa would say, "Lingling, has your penis grown yet?"

while touching my genitals, "The next time he would say, 'Look, has Lingling grown her penis yet? Why hasn't it grown yet...' So, I often dream about that scene, even though I didn't know anything about it at the time."

"Dad, are you angry?"

"No." "

Why?"

"He's your maternal grandfather."

"And..."

"Tell me." "

Yes, Grandpa and my aunt did that too. "

"How do you know?" "

I saw it when I was little."

"Once, Mom took me to the market, and when we came back, we saw Grandma at the door. Grandma called Mom to stop, and I ran into the house. As soon as I entered the inner room, I saw my aunt lying naked on the edge of the kang (heated brick bed), just like you and me that time. I only found out what it was when I grew up." "

Dad."

"Yes."

"Do you think it's hereditary in our family?"

"Probably. Is that the secret?"

"Yes."

"Have you noticed your mom and grandpa?"

"Do they have it too?"

"I'm asking you."

"I haven't noticed, I can't remember. Why don't you ask mom? Haha, why are you asking this? Are you just making excuses for yourself? Haha ." "Did you take it off?" I got excited, and my lower body got excited too. I put my hand into my crotch. "Mmm." I heard the sound of my breath coming out of my nostrils. "Dad?" "Mmm." "Are you doing that too?

" " Yes . " " Dad , I feel uncomfortable..." "I want to kiss...your lower body... " " I like it , ahh ... " Hmm." "Would you like to discuss this with me?" "Yes." "Okay. Dad? What do you want to know?" "Didn't you say I overlooked a lot? What?" "Dad?" "Hmm. " "Tell me, am I weird?" "How so?" "Don't you think I'm weird?" "I don't think so." "I don't know if it's normal or not, I think I'm weird. I mean, I liked it from the beginning... Of course, not from the beginning. At first, it was out of curiosity, wanting to know what it was all about... The first two times, I didn't feel anything special, I just passively accepted it... If I felt excited, it was before we did it, not during the process. The thought of Daddy fucking me made me excited." "No, maybe not entirely. During the process, it was every moan you made that excited me, especially at the end, I was both scared and excited... Scared because you were thrusting so hard, like you were making me jump up, hehe." "Excited because of the strange sounds coming from your throat..." "Dad? What are you doing?" "Go on." " I want to know what you're doing?" "Of course, you seem to have already seen it." "Oh no! Are you hard?" "Yes." "Oh no!" "Go on, I want to see ." "Okay." "Every time after we do it, I'm scared, and I ask myself: How did I really do it? How did it really go in? And then, why doesn't it hurt anymore?"

"Actually, I didn't feel anything special while we were doing it, maybe it was because I was nervous. After doing it two or three times, suddenly at some point, I remembered that strange feeling, and the sensation of your thing moving inside me felt so strange... It wasn't intentional, sometimes I would just think about it for no reason, and then I would wonder if there would be a next time? Actually, I already knew that this kind of thing was a secret, and I wouldn't tell anyone."

"I remember you kissed me the second time, and you kissed me the fourth time. It was from that time that I felt so good when you kissed me down there, and I even asked you to kiss me all night. It was also from that time that I felt very urgent when you penetrated me, and the stimulation was very obvious..."

"Dad?"

"Yes."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes."

"Actually, when I was about nine years old, I knew that you and Mom did a mysterious thing at night. At first, I hated it, but later, after Mom's surgery, I also knew that Mom used her mouth to give you..." Did you hate it then? "

Yes."

"But I don't hate it now. Hehe."

"You know everything." “

No, not really. For example, all those filthy things you said to Mom, hahaha.”

“You little rascal!”

“You big rascal!”

“Dad?”

“Yes.”

“Did you and Mom really say those things when you were doing it?”

“You little rascal! You know everything.”

“Then why didn’t you say them to me, hahaha?”

“I couldn’t say them.”

“Then why did you…”

“What?” “You

could do it, but couldn’t say it? Hahaha.”

“I was afraid you wouldn’t like to hear it.”

“If you like it, then say it.”

“Okay, next time.”

“No, say it now.”

I can’t type anymore, I’m in pain too, you little rascal! How can Daddy stand you like this? Thinking about her typing with one hand and touching her lower body with the other, oh my god! Daughter!

What should we do next? I don’t know. It seems like we’re both waiting for something. After a while, my daughter sent a message:

“Dad, can you tell me what you said to Mom?” "

Although I can't see, I know my daughter is already excited. She wanted it. I wanted it too, so what are we waiting for? I typed out those words with one hand: ' I want to fuck you.' Finally, I

said it !

I said the dirtiest thing to my daughter! I was already extremely excited, my hand was constantly playing with it. It was so strong today , if only my daughter were here . Immediately, I received a series of ' Ah !' ' Ah ... "I will." "You're so smart." "Ah! I really want to, Lingling." "Say it ten more times." "I want to..." Suddenly, my daughter went offline. I wondered if her classmate had suddenly come back? The next day, I saw my daughter's message: "Dad, I'm so sad! I just bought a laptop yesterday, and I dropped it last night. When I saw you say such hurtful things to me, I lost control of my hand, and my body suddenly lost its balance, and the laptop slipped to the ground... I was terrified, heartbroken, and fiddled with it for a long time. Luckily, it wasn't seriously damaged, just a corner was bumped. When I came back online, you were already offline. Dad, come on! I miss you, I want you to fuck me. I wish you were here last night, I was going crazy thinking about it, I wished you would fuck me to death. Dad, I love you, I want to never get married. After I graduate, we'll live together in a city in the south, and I'll give you another daughter..." (The End)

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Daughter's Red Wine (reprinted)

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