The forbidden love between a daughter and her father

Chapter One:
You know, she's lived at home all these years. I never imagined I'd see her like that, and I wish I never would.
As a father, I love my daughter. How did I get into such a terrible situation?
It all started a few weeks ago. Meg, my wife, has lost interest in sex for the last two or three years. We still have sex, but I've slowly realized she's just trying to keep me entertained. I'm understanding, so I've been having sex with her less and less. Before, sex with Meg was incredibly satisfying.
But now, those few minutes of gymnastics have ruined the beautiful memories, and I'm starting to feel frustrated.
At home, lacking normal sex, I've started looking for outlets elsewhere. No, not with my daughter. I'm looking for porn online.
I used to be obsessed with porn, but decades later, I wonder if that youthful excitement has faded with time? What will those faded, low-resolution images, blurry photos, and unretouched, raw female genitalia look like? Wow, there's so much porn these days! I can find girls who look a lot like Meg from back then, and even do things with them that Meg wouldn't have done in her youth. Things
went smoothly for a while, then I suddenly discovered the fun of webcams.
Imagine some young girls taking off their panties and playing with their wet clitoris in front of the camera; and me watching and masturbating in my study. So exciting! I've met several girls who look a lot like Meg (even though we've lived together for 25 years, Meg is still my favorite), and I've had sex with one of them almost every night.
This day, none of the girls were online. So I went to browse the public rooms, looking for a one-night stand. If you've never seen these websites before, let me explain: the website is divided into two parts. One is the public lobby, where many girls chat, flirt, and show off their charm, but they don't show their bodies; the other part is the private rooms, where the host will satisfy all your desires and fantasies for 5 yuan a minute. Sounds expensive, right? Imagine it. Your dream girl, with three fingers inserted into her anus and three fingers into her vagina, whining and coquettishly saying how much she wants your cock. How long could you last? Trust me, 25 yuan is enough.
Enough chit-chat. I wandered around the lobby, looking at the zoomed-in images of the girls. Then I noticed an image of a girl, her buttocks facing the camera, a white thong neatly passing through the middle, perfectly dividing her buttocks into two symmetrical halves. This was exactly my type, so I clicked on it.
Allways Allways was her name, and she was incomparably sexy. Flawless buttocks, without a single pimple, blemish, or scar, perfectly round and uniform. The strip of cloth was too narrow, half-covering her shaved labia, the covered area resembling a contour map outlined with white cotton thread. The entrance to the narrow valley, perhaps already flowing with a babbling brook, was the small bump of her clitoris, the light catching the damp strip of cloth, shimmering brightly. The thin thong barely concealed the dark, inky area around her anus, just covering the sphincter muscles. As I savored the beautiful sight before me, a meticulously manicured, long finger with pearlescent nail polish hooked onto the thong, tracing the cleft of her buttocks, across her anus, and vanished instantly beneath the white fabric. Then the finger reappeared in close-up, glistening with her nectar. Damn! This was a ripe wildflower desperately craving bees! My
cock, trapped in my pants, was painfully hard. I unzipped my pants and pulled out my little brother to begin its necessary daily exercise.
On the screen, a guy from my room introduced himself as Vinnie, asking what her real name was. Helen! Now I had her name, Helen! This ass could start a war! Trust me, brothers, Helen's ass and apple pie are like God and territory; for them, we must stand up against any invaders!
I've digressed a bit. Helen slowly swayed her hips, her vulva almost sticking out. All the girls who know how to make videos move slowly because the camera's frame rate is low. If they move too fast, it looks choppy and the video is jerky and disjointed.
But no matter the situation, slow, gentle movements are always sexier, and Helen knows this all too well.
I watched her move while masturbating, and with my free hand, I waved to her, praising how charming she was.
"Papas Gotta Brand New Bag (Daddy's New Bag) Hey Helen. Damn, little girl! You have a nice ass." "Allway Salways: Thanks, Daddy. Want to see more?" "Papa: Wait a minute, let's warm up first. I'm old. Any props?" Warm up first! Just kidding—I'm hard enough to hammer nails! But you have to be ready before the starting gun fires, otherwise playing with these girls is really expensive.
"All: Lots of props. Daddy, how old are you?" On the screen, she held an anal beaded string on her buttocks, the first bead stopping precisely at her anus. The bright blue beaded string caressed her genitals between her legs. Yay!
She has props.
"Papa: 45. And you?"
"All: 20. Ready for a private show, Daddy?" You think I'm ready? But I want to see the rest of her body first.
"Papa: That depends on how sweet your smile is."
The camera shook for a moment as she turned to adjust it. When the camera refocused, I almost had a heart attack!
"All: How's it going, Daddy?"
Damn it! My daughter! Helen! I sat there, my cock ready to fire. I got an erection from my own daughter's ass?
"All: Daddy?"
Damn it. She's even calling me Daddy. To make matters worse, my erection didn't subside; it even bounced a few times excitedly.
I was at a loss, not knowing what to do next. I closed the webpage.
My daughter, my lovely daughter, is working in the sex industry. Damn it, I hope I never find out about this in my lifetime. She told her mom she was going to do telemarketing during the summer vacation. Of course, while disappointed that she wouldn't be home for the entire break, students are always short of money, and we're very proud of our lovely daughter's independence. But, sex work? This isn't telemarketing. Okay, it's similar to striptease, but better than prostitution.
But… striptease is just taking off your clothes and dancing, video work involves so much more. How many men have seen her push that string of beads down her ass?
How many have watched anal beads stretch her anus while masturbating? Oh, what a mess! Imagining Helen playing with herself with props makes my dick throb. Although I'm furious and blaming my daughter for working in the sex industry for money, I can't deny I'm excited. I'm going to call her, that's what I need to do now, and talk to her about it. I picked up the phone and quickly dialed her cell phone.
"Hi, dear Dad, what's up?" She sounded happy, and my courage vanished instantly.
"Hi, sweetheart. What's making you so happy?"
"Because you never call me. It's always Mom."
"Oh? I did call. You always like chatting with your mother, I just wanted...it's nice to hear your voice on the phone. I always find out about you through your mother." How do I steer the conversation towards her "work"?
"I'm happy to hear your voice too, Daddy, but I'm at work." "So late?" Yes, sweetheart, Daddy knows you're at work, that's why I called you.
"I have to work overtime to earn tuition."
"Helen...I told you, if you need help..." Damn it! Talking about tuition at this crucial moment, I need to get her off the internet. I hope my little one goes back to sleep soon, damn, Helen's voice is so sexy. Oh God, I can't have any lust for my daughter! Absolutely not.
"I know, Daddy, you're so good to me... but if I can afford it, I'd like to pay for it myself." I succumbed to the devil, reopened the browser, and clicked into All's room again. Just then, a coughing noise came from the phone.
"What's that?" I asked. Actually, I knew that in video chat rooms with audio, registered users with credit cards would make coughing noises upon entering. After all, money was what they were truly interested in.
"That's someone completing his sales plan," Helen lied, her tone unchanged. On the screen, she was slumped over, kicking her legs in the air, propped up on her elbows, holding the phone to her ear in one hand and typing with the other.
"All: Welcome back, Daddy."
The sound of typing could be heard on the phone.
"Papa: Sorry, the line dropped. Who were you talking to?" "Daddy, I have to go back to work. We're not allowed to make personal calls during work hours." "All: Wink (winking emoji)." "Oh...sweetheart, of course. Okay, I'd better let you keep working. Goodnight." "Goodnight, Daddy. Say hello to Mom." The line went dead. On the screen, Helen put down her phone.
"All: Daddy. You still haven't told me if you like my smile?" She adjusted the camera, zooming in. Only her face and the white cover of the camera lens were visible. She was breathtakingly beautiful (considering that fathers do favor their daughters). "Papa: Cute." My cock was still hard, and I had to admit, I wanted to fuck her. I felt nauseous, but my body was even more excited.
"All: Daddy, I'm wet. Want to chat privately and then..." "Papa: Of course." I clicked the mouse and entered private chat mode with her. I told myself it was to protect her from harassment by those sexually deviant men with lewd demands. But deep down, I knew I was just another sleazy, old man seeking sexual gratification from women.
"All: Should I take my clothes off?"
"Papa: No, let's chat first?"
"All: Of course, Dad. Do you like to swear?" "Papa: No. I'm wondering why you do this. Just for the money?" "All: You're not trying to rescue me, are you?" "All: But I don't need to be rescued. No, it's not just for the money. Orgasming in front of strangers excites me." "Papa: Sorry, I wasn't accusing you."
"Papa: I didn't intend to rescue anyone."
"All: Okay."
"Papa: Well… sometimes you really get high?"
"All: It takes me about 10 minutes to come here. Most customers don't want to spend that much time. I can give you a performance and make you come in 5 minutes. Want to try?" "Papa: I don't mind the money." "Papa: Why don't you show me your favorite?" "All: Oh, great!" She pulled the camera back a bit so she was fully in the frame and removed the lens cap.
Damn! She had small, alluring nipples. I realized why I was so excited—she was young Meg.
Same breasts, same beautiful figure, same face. Even the color of her hair and eyes was the same. But Meg had pubic hair—like all girls of that era. Helen's thumb hooked onto her thong, slid down her thigh to her calf, and then dropped the thong. Helen had no pubic hair at all: it was clearly visible when she sat with her legs spread open in front of the camera.
"All: I hope you can last long enough, Daddy. I like it when we climax together. Do you want me to turn on the microphone?" "Papa: You have a voice? Great."
Helen's hand extended beyond the lens, and her voice suddenly came through. I turned the volume down to a whisper.
"Of course I have a voice, Daddy. But I don't like talking to tourists all day, I only leave it for private chat guests.
I want you to enjoy it as much as I do." She placed several pillows behind her, lay back, and adjusted the lens with a remote control: the best view of her vulva. I could see her anus hidden in the shadows. She raised her knees to her chest, exposing the two openings of her lower body to the camera, her hands reaching down to the end of her buttocks. She didn't penetrate the sphincter, but stroked her anus and the surrounding area with her fingertips.
"Mmm...you know how painful it is, teasing and stroking for hours, but not reaching orgasm...oh, it feels so good." Helen's other hand slapped her labia quickly and loudly, pulling and tugging. She pinched and pulled one piece, then another, then together, tearing it apart and letting it spring back. She moaned lasciviously as he continued to torment and ravage her labia until vaginal fluids flowed from her opening. Like someone exhausted after a long day of work finally taking a hot bath, three fingers sank into her body, and she let out a satisfied sigh. Her fingers rhythmically dug and probed, her head (out of focus but still visible) swaying from side to side on the pillow, gasping for breath. I slowly stroked my penis, noticing that I had lasted twice as long as usual, despite being extremely aroused.
After playing with her labia for about a minute, Helen pinched her nipples, squeezing, pulling, and flicking them, kneading her breasts.
"Is it pleasurable, Daddy?"
"Papa: I love it."
Her right hand reached for her clitoris, circling the foreskin, her eyes fixed on the camera, smiling. This wasn't the smile of my familiar, adorable daughter. This was a lewd smile filled with unrestrained, primal lust: I know you're watching, you lewd, obnoxious man.
"I bet you have a hard cock. I'm wondering which hole you want to fuck?" Without looking to the side, Helen grabbed her dildo, cramming the thick instrument into her vagina until only the handle remained outside.
"Oh! It's so big!" She threw her head back onto the pillow, her hands gripping the handle as she thrust in and out of her body. Every few thrusts, she pulled the entire dildo out of her wide-open vagina, then plunged it back in like a dagger. Like an air pump, the plastic cock went in and out, faster and faster. I'd never seen her grip like that before; it seemed she needed the strength of both hands to satisfy herself.
If her pleasurable gasps were the measure, she was undoubtedly very happy. I also sped up my masturbation. I was completely absorbed, stroking it relentlessly.
As I approached orgasm, her movements with the dildo became so fast that the video buffered terribly. I couldn't hold back any longer, groaning as I ejaculated onto my shirt.
I continued stroking my penis, semen trickling down my hands onto my testicles. On the screen, Helen was still having sex with herself. I continued masturbating until a few minutes later, my lovely girl brought herself to orgasm.
"Oh, fuck! Ah... fuck me! Oh oh oh... oh!" She slowly stopped thrusting, and the camera returned to normal. She was covered in sweat, her face flushed. The penis slid from her hand, lying quietly between her legs, her chest heaving as she resumed breathing.
"Did you cum?" A tired voice, panting.
"Papa: A lot. I'm getting old, I can't last as long." "Then thank you for the pleasure you brought me." "Papa: I'd rather lose the whole world than miss out." "I need to do some cleaning." "Papa: See you in the room later?"
"Of course, Daddy." Helen turned off the microphone, waved her hand covered in her juices at me, and then turned off the camera.
I took a box of tissues from my desk drawer, cleaned up the mess I'd made of my study, and went back to her room to say goodbye.
"Papa: That was great. Thank you."
"All: You can reach me anytime, Dad. I enjoyed it too." "Papa: Goodnight." "All: Goodnight, Dad. Remember to keep in touch. Thank you." She sent a kiss on the screen.
I closed the browser.
A wave of guilt washed over me. She's my daughter! I was ashamed of what I'd done, but I tried to convince myself that it wasn't incest in a way, and that by spending time with Helen online, I could secretly fund her college tuition. It's all bullshit in hindsight, but it did help me sleep better, and I could masturbate while watching Helen's bizarre and perverse behavior.
A month later (after spending a thousand dollars), Helen told Meg she'd be coming back for a few weeks. My daughter was coming back? How was I supposed to face her after this month? I was devastated. Meg thought I was having a midlife crisis and kept peeking through the kitchen window to see if I should buy a Harley. I went to pick Helen up on the weekend, feeling terrible.
To be honest, I was incredibly disappointed in myself.
"Hello, Daddy!" Helen greeted me first.
I quickly turned away to avoid being hit by a missile. She hung on my neck, excitedly talking to me.
She hugged me, her face pressed against my shoulder, and began to chatter on and on about how much she missed me, how much she wanted to be with me, how much she wanted to tell me, and so on. Only when her enthusiasm died down did she notice me standing there like a statue, and that I hadn't hugged her back.
"What's wrong, Daddy?" She looked at me from a little distance, her expression full of deep affection. I tried to imagine a cold shower to avoid noticing her passion. Getting an erection right now, poking her stomach, wouldn't be a good thing.
"Nothing, sweetheart." That wasn't the truth. "I'm just overwhelmed by bandwidth. Can you talk with 56k instead of 8m?" "Oh, Daddy!" She hugged me again. Thank goodness, we weren't close enough to feel anything yet.
"I'm so excited! Did you miss me?"
"Of course, you know. I even called you while you were at work, I missed you so much." "I remember... I don't do telemarketing anymore. I got a job at a bar. The people there are higher class." "Really?" I let go of her arms around my neck, picked up my suitcase, and she picked up her small backpack.
"Of course! People are so rude to telemarketers. If you dare talk to a bartender like that, they won't let you drink, they'll make you thirsty. And there are tips! That's where my charm comes in handy." Helen was still excited, skipping and jumping beside me (she walked quite well). "Daddy!" she started in a girl's coquettish voice, which meant she was about to ask for something.
"What?" I replied in the same cautious tone I'd used for the past 20 years.
"Can we get some ice cream? I've been craving chocolate ice cream since Boston." "Sure, sweetheart." It had been years since we'd gone for ice cream alone. At least it was a memory without her naked.
"Great! Where's the car?"
"Right there." I nodded toward the east corner of the parking lot.
"Should we hire a trolley? It's too heavy. American girls always have a lot of luggage." "Don't worry, it's not that heavy, and I'm not old yet." "You're not old, you're mature...like wine."
"Thanks."
Chapter Two
"These days, someone will pull the cork out of your ass." "What?" "Just kidding, dear Daddy." She spun around rapidly in front of me, then suddenly stopped.
I could hear her incessant chatter in my ears again. "I saw this sentence in a novel, and I absolutely loved it." "You still have time to read novels? Aren't you tired of books?"
"I'm not always working, working, working. I have an hour of free time every two days, and a Sunday afternoon off every month." "Okay, I surrender. I vaguely remember the happy days of college. Just mark reading somewhere on my busy social schedule, and partying with boys somewhere else." Helen thought for a moment, "On the alphabet, books come before partying and boys; but studying comes after underwear, socializing, and sex." "Sweetheart."
"Oh, Daddy! You mentioned boys first. I need to have something to do at night. I'm almost 21." She was right. I did mention boys, and I also knew she became a real woman on her high school prom night.
I regretted accidentally mentioning her social life; Helen's connection to sex made me feel a little excited again. Cold shower, cold shower, cold shower.
"Get in the car." We walked to the car. I unlocked the car and put my luggage in the trunk. Before I even settled into the driver's seat, the car speakers blared: "Jamesbrough is great" (song title). "It's a bit loud, sweetheart." I reached for the volume button, and she grabbed my hand.
"Louder, Daddy."
"You want to hear 'Louder'? It's not on this CD." I tightened my grip, turning the volume down.
"Disappointing!"
"Want some ice cream?"
"Yes."
Driving to Danny's Ice Cream Shop was a bit of a problem. The car was a confined space, and Helen's perfume filled it completely. It was even worse in the ice cream shop; I couldn't see her while driving: she sat directly opposite me, and I tried hard not to glance at her low-cut neckline. The way she ate her ice cream with a straw was like a demonstration of how a woman's mouth could pleasure a man's genitals in various ways. This made my body temperature rise considerably.
"Excuse me, I need to use the restroom."
Helen finished her ice cream, and I waved to the waitress to pay.
I silently prayed, thanking God.
"Go on, sweetheart. I'll wait for you in the car."
"Okay, Daddy."
Back in the car, I quickly composed myself in that short time. How could I possibly control my libido during these two weeks with my daughter home? I was fantasizing about a Viagra-like drug that could keep me from getting an erection when the car door opened and Helen squeezed in and sat next to me.
"Thanks, Daddy. It's so cold, Danny's Ice Cream Shop, haven't been here in years." "Listen, sweetheart. Nostalgia is a clear sign that you're getting old." "Then being sexually aroused by the waitress is a clear sign that you're not getting old." "What?" I was genuinely shocked.
"And you say that, Daddy! I saw you trying to hide your 'stick' when she brought the ice cream. You're a pervert." "I... uh..."
"It's okay, Daddy, that just means you're still got plenty of energy."
"I..."
"I won't expose you, it's a little secret between us." She turned up the volume again. Jamesborn started singing: Sex Machine (song title). Helen looked at me meaningfully, then burst into laughter. "Oh, Daddy! Don't be so surprised. I knew you had a penis 20 years ago. I used to hear you and Mom making love all the time, and you thought I was asleep. I'm not one of those people who think their parents are holy and never have sex." Is this really my daughter, talking about my sex life so sophisticatedly? Where did that adorable daughter with freckles and two little braids go? Where has all these years gone?
"Does your mother know you used to peep at us?"
"Of course, after the prom, we had a long, women's sex talk." "Ah, yes. I remember." The topic returned to Helen's sex life, and I focused on driving, trying to avoid thinking about dirty things. Can't we not talk about sex directly? God, where are you?
"I wasn't a virgin when I got home that day." Helen seemed to enjoy embarrassing and shocking me. And I was indeed both embarrassed and shocked.
"Did you know I joined the sorority?" she changed the subject. My prayers had worked.
"Mom said so."
"Oh, when they join, every new member tells all the members about their first masturbation experience." The topic remained the same.
"Sweetheart. Do you want me to crash? I really don't need to know these things. Don't shatter my fantasies all at once. You're a good girl." "Daddy, I'm not a girl anymore, I'm a 20-year-old woman. I want you to know some things, because secrets are only fun when shared." "So I made up a story about a daring college boy. I don't want to tell everyone in the house that I heard my parents having sex and discovered that my private parts aren't just for peeing. You're the only one who knows this little secret of mine." I didn't say anything. What could a father say? Helen's clear voice broke the frozen atmosphere.
"That will be our little secret, Daddy."
At this moment, Jamesborn started singing "Daddy's New Bag" (song title). To my surprise, Helen joined in. The calm was quickly interrupted by her words. I realized with annoyance that this song was Helen's online nickname. At least while singing, my lovely daughter didn't tell me about her sexual experiences. The perfume lingered in the car.
Meg came out to greet Helen, which greatly relieved my stress. Helen gave her mother a warm hug, just like she had given me at the airport. I took my luggage out of the car and went upstairs to Helen's bedroom. Luckily, they didn't notice me; my erection was practically about to be punctured. I quickly slipped into the bedroom, took a cold shower, and found the tightest underwear in the drawer to put on.
A miscalculation; I should have changed into these before going to the airport.
Masturbating in the bathroom also helped, and then I started planning. I would have sex with Meg frequently to avoid her noticing my abnormal arousal; she was my primary crime scene for erections.
I would also masturbate often, three to four times a day, to ensure I couldn't get hard without Viagra. Hmm, this plan was good, possessing all the necessary qualities of a good plan: simple, flexible, highly feasible, and with a bright future. Hopefully, it would be so.
This plan gave me a huge sense of reassurance, and dinner and a night filled with all sorts of university news passed peacefully. But the goodnight kiss before bed reignited my passion, making my preparations for making love with Meg incredibly aroused. I love my wife; I've never felt uncomfortable with her.
In our 25 years of marriage, I've never once fantasized about having sex with anyone else, not even while masturbating. Knowing our daughter can hear us makes it even more enjoyable. Tonight, Meg seemed a bit down, and then she realized our daughter was home! I couldn't help but wonder how many days this little secret between mother and daughter had contributed to our sex life.
I woke up feeling great. The plan was going perfectly. I took a shower, and of course, masturbated. Then I was drawn to the kitchen by the aroma of breakfast.
Meg was still fast asleep, and I tiptoed out of the bedroom.
Oh no! Helen was making herself breakfast in her underwear. Luckily, my carefully laid plans allowed me to face this calmly, like a gun protecting you from biological weapons. Helen, dressed provocatively, was the biological weapon that could harm me.
"Good morning, Daddy. I'm still jet-lagged. Want half?" She handed me a plate and took a bite of the half sandwich on the plate in her other hand.
"Thank you," I mumbled a thanks, quickly sitting down and trying not to look at her. She sat down a seat away, chewing her breakfast with relish.
"Sweetie, what are your plans for your first day at home?" I asked between chews.
"Well, um... I'm going shopping with Mom."
"Sorry, darling," Meg came in in her pajamas. "I have to go to work today, but I can drive you to the mall if you like." She poured herself a cup of coffee, sat down next to me, and took a bite of my sandwich.
"Thanks, Mom. I'll have Daddy pick me up later."
"Daddy's going to get the car repainted, yellow with stripes," I said.
"Darling, don't complain. At least you should spend the whole weekend with your daughter. I'm the one who should be complaining, I'm stuck at work all day." Meg glanced at the clock in the kitchen, realized she didn't have much time, gulped down her coffee, and stood up.
"Speaking of which... Helen, you have 15 minutes to get ready. I don't want to be late." Upstairs, the two women in my life were preparing to face the outside world, while I sat alone in the kitchen continuing my breakfast and second cup of coffee.
In this quiet morning, I was troubled by my own troubles. Until Helen called to say she'd bought the groceries, so I began to implement preventative measures—to masturbate, then drive to pick her up.
As agreed, we met in the dining area, ate lunch together, and went home. Throughout the entire meal, I felt no sexual desire or excitement towards my daughter, which further solidified the feasibility of my plan. It proved effective. I conquered the demons, I was free!
I even changed my music CD. Jamesbrown's songs always reminded me of online nicknames. Ninasimone accompanied us home. "The Sinner" touched a nerve, but "Summertime" and "Song of the Heart" had a mature and soothing effect. Helen clearly preferred Ms. Simone to casual conversation.
"Can I check my emails?" Helen asked as I carried the items I'd bought into the living room.
"Of course." I was a little nervous. You know, besides the large amount of pornographic material I'd collected, there were also photos of Helen saved from chat rooms. But most of them were hidden in inconspicuous folders, so I shouldn't be too worried. Her photos were all saved in the [My Pictures] folder, because that's been my favorite for the past few weeks.
But she had no reason to open that folder, right? I'd always taught her to respect privacy, even giving her examples. But now I knew she'd been eavesdropping on Meg and me having sex, uh… no, I was sure she wouldn't want to peek into my privacy. So I came to a relatively safe conclusion: whatever happens, happens. Helen was already in the study and logged into Yahoo. "Want some coffee?" I stood in the doorway, not wanting my nervousness to arouse any suspicion.
"Of course, Daddy." She didn't look up.
When I returned with two large cups of coffee, Helen was staring at the computer screen, her face pale. She looked up, an expression I hadn't seen on her since our dog died in the car accident.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
I put down my glass and went to her, acting on a father's instinct to care for his injured daughter.
She pushed me away, and I realized I was the reason for her grief.
"Don't touch me!" It was almost a scream, a clear indication she was about to cry.
On the screen was a picture of her, naked. Oh, damn it!
"Sweetheart, let me explain. I..."
"Explain? Okay, explain why my father's computer is full of pornographic pictures of me. Explain!
Explain!" she yelled, her voice hoarse, tears streaming down her face. She turned her face away, sobbing uncontrollably.
I tried to comfort her, but it only made things worse.
"Sweetheart... Helen, I... I saw you online by chance... and then..." "And then you thought, 'I just downloaded my daughter's naked body'?" "Please let me finish... When I saw you, I didn't know it was you. You had your back to the camera. I was really excited by you at that moment. Then you turned around, and I almost had a heart attack; I couldn't believe it was you.
I immediately closed the browser, but I still had an erection. I know it's depraved, but you look exactly like your mother when she was young." "So you went back into the room?"
"Yes, I even went into your private chat. I just couldn't control myself." "You went into my private chat? What's your username?" "Daddy's New Bag."
"Oh my god...you're Daddy?"
"I am Daddy." I nodded. "I'm smitten with you."
"I know. You spent a lot of money. I saw the quick links on your desktop and thought: Oh no, it'll be terrible if you find out what I've been doing. So I checked your history and found my webpage. Then I was shocked to see the pictures you saved. Do you really know how perverted you are?" "Yes, I know. I just couldn't control myself... Meg's sex drive disappeared a few months ago.
Video girls are a safe outlet. And then I met you and..." "And instead of getting furious like most fathers, you watched me having sex with myself on the screen while masturbating? You didn't even ask me why I did it." "I know why, you said it during our first private chat." "Did I say that? Don't believe everything a video girl says to you. I thought I was chatting with some other filthy old man. We only say things that excite you and keep you in the room." "Oh, so why do you do this?" "Because I've been doing this since college." "So many sexual experiments. I've tried mutual licking with girls, it tastes wonderful, but I still prefer a penis. No taste can compare to the smell of a man penetrating my body. I've tried all sorts of threesomes, old men, bondage. I've even fantasized about being dragged into a dark alley and being fucked while a gun is pointed at my head. Working as a video girl was also to explore my exhibitionist side. It turns out I really enjoy being exposed to people." "You said you're no longer doing telemarketing, does that mean you're really not a video girl anymore?" "Yeah. I don't mind being treated roughly, and I don't mind being called a prostitute, although I wasn't back then.
But I'm tired of having plastic stuffed in my ass and telling them how much I wish it were their penis. You're one of the few customers who makes me feel good. Turns out you're the most perverted one among them." "What did you mean by 'not back then'?" I brought up the term "prostitute."
“Like I just said, it wasn’t like that back then. It is now.”
“What?”
“Daddy, or call me Dad? I ended my video job because I got a job at a social networking agency.
The night before I came back, I did my first deal: a Harvard graduate donated a lot of money to his alma mater.
I went with him to the dinner and got $250. He was a pretty charming man, so when he subtly asked me out, I let him take me to his hotel and we slept together twice. He gave me a $500 tip. Anyway, if we had met in a bar, it would have been nice to sleep with a guy who seemed like a good match.” “How…how old is he?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. How should I put it? Hearing Helen tell me this shocked me even more than seeing her online.
"Similar to you. The older, the more interesting. Although all sex is interesting, older men are my current favorite." "What are you going to say to Meg? That will kill her." "
We won't tell Mom anything. I'll keep your secret, and you'll keep mine. I told you I like having an audience, and from now on, I'll tell you every dirty detail of my sex life.
You're my new audience. I bet it'll excite you, right, Daddy?" "Uh..." "Show me."
"Show you?"
"Show me your dick. I want to see how it goes. It's fair, I've already shown you, so you should show me too." "Helen, you're crazy. We've already gone way too far, we should stop, not make it worse." In the blink of an eye, she was standing in front of me, pressed against my body, grabbing my rebellious, hard penis through my clothes, and kissing my lips. She quickly let go and sat back down. "Look! You're as hard as a branding iron. I bet that's not because of the Danny's shop waitress, is it?" I didn't dare look her in the eye.
"Yeah, I'm wet too." She spread her legs, her skirt rode up, and two fingers slipped inside her triangular panties. "Mmm. Daddy, I never thought about incest. Now I have to think about it, I feel like I really want you to fuck me." "No, no. It's over, it's all over. From now on!" "No, it's not over yet. Want to bet?" She unbuttoned the top button of her dress. I wanted to leave the room, but my feet wouldn't move. My eyes followed her fingers as she unbuttoned her dress, down, down, the triangle at the neckline slowly elongating, her wheat-colored skin, her beautiful cleavage—I was lost.
Helen stood up, her dress slipping off her shoulders, falling from her hips. She was wearing my favorite white lingerie.
"Want to see my social antics?" Her voice was lively, not like that of a girl seducing her father.
"Of course." What could I say? Yes, she was my daughter. Yes, everything was wrong, but logically I had crossed that line weeks ago. Could it be any worse to go through it all again? It's strange how easily we find suitable reasons for our desires. Yes! Our desires. Even though they're wrong, we all have desires for each other.
Helen took a few steps back, finding a clean patch of floor. She smiled, and Eva must have smiled like that at Adam once. Hooking her index fingers and thumbs around the waistband of her panties, without bending her knees, she quickly pulled them down to her ankles. She stood on tiptoe, the panties slipping off her high heels, her hands flat on the floor, the fallen panties taut between her hands. Helen switched to supporting her weight with her hands, lifting her feet completely off the floor, raising them high into a perfect handstand. She held this position for a few seconds, toes pointing to the ceiling, long legs straight, back beautifully sculpted, naked except for her bra and the panties taut in her hands.
Then she lowered her foot, her toes threading through the taut waistband of her underwear, shifting her weight back to her toes, pulling the underwear back onto her heels that were already on the ground. She straightened up, the underwear returning to its original position, once again covering her crotch.
She continued smiling. "Now, would you like to show me yours?" She silently approached, reaching for my underwear. I didn't stop her. She unbuckled my belt, pulled down the zipper, and took off my pants. I was still wearing tight underwear today to prevent my erection from showing through my pants. Because it was so small and tight, the outline of my penis was completely visible. Helen touched it, then abruptly pulled down her underwear without a word of politeness. My penis finally saw the light of day again, stretching out its limbs, accidentally bumping into her bent chin. She half-squatted, half-knelt in front of her, bursting into laughter.
"Oh, Daddy! Is this the thing that put me in Mommy's tummy?" She looked up at me, her eyes wide with a mischievous glint in her eyes. I tried to ignore the family dynamics as she playfully teased me for the little reward she'd won.
For her, the novelty lay in making love with her father, not some middle-aged man. Her fingers found my scrotum, making my balls roll around. I groaned as Helen's mouth enveloped my glans, her tongue circling around it, soft and wet as velvet. I grabbed her hair, thrusting my hips forward, pushing my penis deep into her mouth, the mouth I'd fantasized about so many times. She licked, her cheeks brushing against my penis, her tongue licking the underside of the shaft, her teeth gently pressing against the shaft to prevent me from going too deep. The fingers that had been playing with my balls disappeared for a few seconds, then reappeared itchyly at my perineum, reaching back to touch my buttocks.
Her fingers were wet and slippery, coated with her nectar.
When her fingertips pressed into my anus, I nearly collapsed to my knees. I'd fantasized about anal sex countless times, but never about fingers in my ass. She pushed her fingers in until she could reach my prostate—so deep. I tensed every muscle in my body and ejaculated in her mouth, hot semen shooting onto her tonsils: this was after two masturbations that morning. Without those two masturbations, I might have shot her head through. Helen continued to suck on my penis, her tongue teasing the head, sending waves of electric shocks through my body, making my buttocks involuntarily tighten and twitch. I wanted to pull out, but her fingers… her fingers were still inside my anus. If it weren't for the table behind me, I probably would have collapsed. I leaned against the table, naked, as Helen tried to restore my virility. I think it must be the prostate massage that made me recover so quickly. Was this some new invention by women—anal sex? Impossible: they don't have prostates.
She was pleased to see me rock hard, slipped her fingers out of my buttocks, let me slide out of her mouth, stood up, grabbed my shirt by the waist, and pulled it over my head. I raised my hands so the clothes could be removed. I must have looked ridiculous, naked, shorts and underwear hanging from my ankles. Helen knelt down and took off my last piece of clothing.
I was a little dazed, my mind filled with the thought of ejaculating inside her; right and wrong, how chaotic the situation was, no longer bothered me.
Helen spoke first.
"Carry me upstairs, Daddy, to my room."
Yes, her room. I was going to fuck her on her bed, surrounded by things from when she was a girl. I picked her up and carried her upstairs. On her bed, I fumbled for her bra hooks. She giggled at my clumsy movements, unhooked them herself, and peeled off her bra to reveal her small, alluring nipples.
My hands clung to them like magnets, pulling at her incredibly elastic nipples, and she writhed and moaned under my touch.
"Sweetheart, are you sure?" A brief moment of clarity reminded me of who I was and who she was, giving myself a chance to stop this crazy thing.
"Yes, Daddy. Put it in. Just like you've always wanted to do it online, fuck me." Her voice was hoarse with desire, her hands pulling down her belt.
She raised her buttocks beneath me, wriggling as she pulled off her panties. We were both naked, our bodies awakened by lust, pushing away the last vestiges of reason, and we pressed tightly together.
Beneath me, Helen parted her long, slender legs, guiding my erect penis into her soft, smooth, hairless vagina. "Fuck my Daddy. Fuck me hard!" she urged me to move faster, pulling my head down and sticking her tongue into my mouth. I began to fuck her. Fuck her was my mission in life. I pounded into her cunt again and again. Her buttocks thrust upwards to meet each penetration, squeezing me tightly into her hot hole. I fucked her, and it felt like eternity.
She trembled all over as she came, her mouth pulling away from mine as she screamed wildly, "Daddy... I'm coming... I'm coming... Fuck me... Fuck me, oh oh!" I continued to fuck her relentlessly, like a high-performance piston in a NASCAR race car. I kissed her hard, calming her down from the peak of her second orgasm, feeling her body vibrate, tense, and slowly soften. But I didn't slow down, continuing to fuck her at high speed and fiercely.
When her third orgasm came, I came too. My thrusts became short and tight, my penis exploding inside her, pressing her hard against her buttocks, panting. I was completely devoured, utterly exhausted. I rolled off her, and we lay side by side, panting heavily. I glanced at her, meeting her eyes; she looked like an angel, peaceful and happy. Just like her mother on their wedding night.
"Was it fun, Daddy?" She rolled over, half-lying on top of me, playing with my nipples. I was still gasping for air.
"My God, you're just like your mother." Even the scent they smelled after sex was the same wonderful fragrance.
"And the way you suck cock is the same too?" Helen asked.
“She doesn’t eat it.”
“Oh? Poor Daddy. Never?”
“Occasionally, ever since we got married. She doesn’t like doing it, and I don’t ask her to do anything she doesn’t like.” “Does she throw it up?”
“Always. It was a different era; good girls didn’t do that.” “Good girls don’t do it now either. You’re lucky; I’m not one of them.” “You used to be; we raised you as a good girl.” “Now, I’m Daddy’s little whore.”
“That’s a terrible word.”
“But it’s accurate. I like sex, and I don’t mind doing it for money. Ever since we lived in caves, a vagina has been a commodity. At least my price is fair. Those girls who string rich guys along for weeks for drinks and parties aren’t honest.” “That’s still a scary word. Hetaeta (a high-class prostitute in ancient Greece, later referring to a famous courtesan) sounds much better.” “Het—what?”
"Hetaeta. In ancient Greece. Look it up online when you have time." "I will. But you haven't answered my question yet." "Sweetie, what question?"
"Are you happy?"
I laughed. "Yes, sweetie. Very happy. Depraved, sinful, lewd happiness." "It's our little secret." "Our little secret." I glanced at the clock. Meg would be home in an hour. "We'd better look presentable, your mother will be back soon." "Then come and take a bath with me." She swung her legs and sat up on the other side of the bed, pulling my arm to get me up too. "We can rub each other with soap." "No, sweetie. That would excite me again, and then..."
"Good idea, Daddy."
"Then I'd have to try my best to keep the whole world from noticing that my daughter is a walking Viagra." I resisted her tugging.
"If you just lie here." Her voice became syrupy, like that girl trying to achieve her little goals, and it always worked. "You'll see more naked cunts than a gynecologist sees in a week," she threatened with a sweet smile.
"You won't do that."
"I will. Mom's already worried you're having a midlife crisis. If I break up with you then, she'll think you've had a mental breakdown. Come on, take a bath with me, Daddy." She stood there, pulling on my arm. I gave in.
Chapter Three
At least I'd extinguished the flames of desire, and my body was in a state of relief. Besides one obvious reason—I'm a weak-willed man—I was sure I had a better reason to return to her chat room.
"Come on, Daddy!" We lathered each other with soap, but I avoided touching the parts of her body I was most interested in; I didn't want to deal with another erection. "You used to bathe me a lot when I was little. Did you want me to get diaper rash?" "When you were old enough, we taught you how to wash yourself down there, remember?" "Yeah, when we started calling it pee. But I don't want to wash myself now; I want you to." She pouted. I did.
I wet my fingers with soapy water and washed along her labia, sliding into every nook and cranny. Helen leaned against me, eyes closed, letting out a satisfied sigh. My soapy fingers touched her vulva, and as if on their own, slid in automatically.
"Dirty Daddy," she murmured, leaning on my shoulder.
"You really just want me to wash you?" I responded softly, seizing this intimate moment. Everything this afternoon was like a storm at sea, but now it was calm after the storm. These were two people without arguments, a couple in love, tender like lovers. I caressed her soft, upturned vulva, my palm pressing against her clitoris.
She moaned, hovering over my neck, responding with her vagina—sucking and gripping my fingers inside her.
"Daddy, wash my ass too." Her words slowly turned into moans.
My other arm encircled her, fulfilling her request, I lathered her perfectly firm buttocks with soapy water, then smeared it into her cleft up to her anus. Memories of her using props replayed in my mind: beads, a dildo, fingers, a whole carrot with green leaves, like a strange tail. I'd seen Helen's buttocks many times before, and now my soapy fingers spun inside, slowly increasing pressure, gently breaking through the sphincter's resistance.
"Oh, Daddy…"
Her voice was drowned out by the sound of the shower, almost inaudible. Inside her two holes, my fingers moved slowly and gently until she reached orgasm, her body trembling as if taking a cold shower. This wasn't an orgasm of high energy, nor was it noisy; she'd already had three orgasms. I slowly withdrew my fingers, very gently washing her clean. Finally, she straightened up and gently kissed me, my penis pressed between our bellies.
"I'm going out, my hair dries slower than yours." Helen opened the bathroom door, stood on the mat, wrapped herself in a large towel, and rubbed her hair with a small towel. She sat on the toilet seat, facing me, continuing to rub her hair. "That's for Mom." Helen nodded at my erect penis. "I want to hear you two make love again tonight." "Sweetheart, you're so cruel."
"Daddy, tell me you didn't like this afternoon? Tell me you don't want to play with me anymore tomorrow. Tell me, and I won't interfere anymore." "You know I can't say it, it's unbelievable, but..." "Dear Daddy, it's just sex. I'm only home for two weeks. We'll have a wonderful vacation together, then I'll go back to school, and you can continue masturbating. If you feel guilty about the girl you're having sex with, save it for now, wait until I get back to Boston—don't ruin my summer vacation." "You're such a bad girl." The hot water started to cool, and I got out, grabbing a towel as well.
"Then hit me. Tomorrow, on my bare ass. That would be really fun." Helen twisted the towel into a headscarf, stood up, and kissed me on the cheek. "When you fuck Mommy tonight, you'll want to feel my ass, all red and tender. You really want to fuck my ass, don't you, Daddy?" I left the bathroom before I could answer her; I think she already knew the answer.
"Daddy spent the afternoon in the study. I slept for an hour or two. I think yesterday's schedule really wore me out. Please pass me the pepper... thank you." "Are you going out tonight?"
"Maybe. I'll call Cathy after dinner to see who's there. You have tomorrow off?" "Yes, did you run out of pepper?" "Yes. Here... we're going to do something tomorrow, just us girls. Have you been to the country club lately?" "Haven't been in weeks."
"We could take Daddy to play golf first and then enjoy a few hours." "That would be nice. Go tell your father dinner is ready." "Okay, Mom." "Daddy, dinner's ready." Helen stood in the study doorway, and I had to squeeze past her.
"I bet you're really hungry."
"Coming." I turned off the monitor and squeezed past her. I kept thinking about what Helen said after her shower. Only two weeks—fuck! I want everything she has. To let Helen know my decision, I pinned her against the doorframe, our lower bodies joined together. “Yes, I have an amazing appetite.” I let go of her, patted her bottom lightly, and she walked into the dining room after me.
Helen got her revenge at dinner. Sitting across from me, she stuck her toes into my pants and played with my penis until it was hard; all the while, she gave a sweet laugh and vividly recounted her plans for the past few days at home. It wasn't until dinner was over that I realized the trip to the country club the next day. Nothing could be worse than playing 18 holes on Sunday.
Helen went out to meet up with old friends, I helped Meg wash the dishes, and then we sat on the sofa watching TV.
I didn't know when my daughter came home because Meg and I went to bed early. Helen didn't manage to eavesdrop on us making love.
Sunday is my penis's rest day. I go golfing, and my women (oops, I sound like a pimp), my women are covered in mud, or seaweed, or whatever the latest beauty trend. Whatever it is, I know they'll spend the whole day on it.
You know, I'm not complaining. I admire women who put effort into making themselves look beautiful, and they really are. Meg looked ten years younger, and for the first time in days with Helen around, I was captivated by her charm and got an erection. I started to long for bed early tonight too.
Three days flew by! Meg and I hadn't had three such happy and lively days in years. Or maybe it was just my imagination, but Meg no longer seemed to be just going through the motions. This was the Meg I knew, passionate and playful. I started to think that Helen had influenced both of our sex lives.
Or maybe I was wrong, considering Meg was approaching menopause? Maybe she was already bored? Was our daughter's eavesdropping just a small spice? Or was it a woman's intuition that she had a rival? Damn! I was dizzy with analysis.
Meg came out of the treatment looking beautiful and sexy. We made love passionately, leaving teeth marks on each other: on my shoulder and—strangely—on the side of her breast? But…who cares who bit whom?
On Monday, Meg and I both went to work. Even in my office, Helen's influence on me couldn't be ignored. Around eleven o'clock, my secretary told me my daughter was calling. I knew she wouldn't call unless she needed something.
"Hi, sweetheart."
"Hi, Daddy. How was last night? You sound like you had a blast." "Yeah, sweetheart. We enjoyed it. Did you call just to make fun of me?" "Not just. But I'm lying naked in your bed, and I hope there's a camera at the foot of the bed so I can show you what you missed." "Sweetheart, I..." "
Oh Daddy. I was so wet listening to you fucking Mommy last night. I was lying there awake, hoping Mommy would fall asleep and then you'd come to my room. I want you to lick my juices clean. Mmm, just imagining it makes me so excited." "Me too." I got an erection again. I adjusted my posture in the chair, positioning my penis under the edge of the table. My penis could barely bend.
"You're hard?"
"You know, sweetheart, I'm hard."
"Take it out, Daddy."
"What? No!"
"Pretend you're Daddy now. We can masturbate together. I got Mommy's vibrator." "Meg has a vibrator?" This was a bit of a novelty for me.
"Of course, Daddy...you didn't know? Oh! What have you missed? Listen..." Helen put the vibrator on the microphone, and I heard a buzzing sound. "Now, tell me how to use it, Daddy." Uh, what should I do? Tell her to put it away and let go? Hang up? Continue my work? "Put it in your pussy, push it in deep." Under the table, I struggled with the zipper.
"Oh...that feels so good. Thank you, Daddy. What's next?" "Turn the vibration to the maximum and then thrust hard." I released my penis, clenched my fist, and started masturbating.
"You better hurry up, sweetheart." The vibrator slammed into her pussy, and I heard her moans and cries.
I closed my eyes, imagining the scene in the bedroom, and masturbated even faster.
"Oh, Daddy...this is so exciting...I wish you were here with me right now...putting your big, hard cock into my ass...feeling the vibrator's vibrations together...mmm...you'll be fucking my ass...oh! my god...do you want to, Daddy?" "Yes, sweetheart." I'm about to cum, almost there.
"Say it, Daddy."
"I'll go home early...fuck your plump, tender ass...I'll...ah!" I cummed.
My climax ignited Helen, or perhaps she was just putting on an act. I continued masturbating, squeezing out a second wave of semen, then a smaller third; I heard my daughter's long screams and cries during her orgasm.
I held the phone between my shoulder and pulled a handkerchief from my shirt pocket to clean up the white semen; Helen came back on the phone. "Thanks, Daddy. That felt great. See you later, masturbator!" She hung up.
The office reeked of semen. I pulled a half-empty bottle of Hugo Boss aftershave from my desk—a birthday gift from Helen—and scattered it in the corner. The stains on the carpet, like shards of glass, and the smell of semen were dispelled by the strong scent of the aftershave. I tidied myself up to be presentable, then rang for my secretary, pretending to wipe the aftershave off the desk with a handkerchief.
A strong perfume greeted her at the door; no further explanation was needed, I had made myself perfectly clear. "Jessica, could you call the housekeeper? I just managed to break the aftershave." I looked quite ashamed of my clumsiness.
"Right away, Mr. Barrington. You should turn the air conditioning up to the max." She left the room, shutting me back into the overpowering, nauseating scent. Thankfully, I only did this once; for weeks, the room would smell like Hugo Boss. The
aftershave incident turned into a double blessing. A colleague was going on a business trip and needed to borrow an office tomorrow, meaning we'd be working in different places for the rest of the week. No one could stay in my office this afternoon; the smell was just too pungent. Since there was nowhere to work this afternoon, I had Jessica cancel her afternoon appointment and go home early.
"Sweetie, Daddy's home!" I shouted as soon as I entered the house. No one answered. Had Helen gone out? She left her briefcase in the study and wasn't online. I went into the kitchen and made myself a simple sandwich. While washing vegetables, I glanced out the kitchen window and saw Helen sunbathing in the yard. She lay sprawled on the blanket, completely uncovered except for the earphones in her ears.
I poured an extra glass of lemonade and carried my lunch to the yard. Whatever she was listening to, the sound was so loud that she wouldn't notice me even if I walked quietly.
She lay there quietly with her eyes closed. I held the glass above her, a drop of cool water condensing on her belly.
"Daddy!" The splash of cold water made her jump slightly.
"Lemonade? You're so charming."
"Thank you, Daddy. And thank you for the compliment." She took the glass and sipped.
"A compliment?"
"I am charming. Do you really think so?"
Okay, let's continue. "It doesn't matter what I think, it's true." I saw a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But sweetheart, you look fucking sexy. You should wear some clothes in the yard. What would your mom say if she came home and saw you naked?” “Mom would say, ‘Honey, put some clothes on, don’t scare your dad.’ Did I scare you, Daddy?” She sat cross-legged on the blanket, making room for me and my lunch to share sandwiches.
“Not today, I’m used to it.” I shouldn’t have said that. I hope I really didn’t.
Guess who got provoked? That’s right, my daughter. She rolled around on the blanket, legs wide open, hands reaching for her labia, her thick labia being pinched and spread apart with her fingers, relaxing her bladder. Then, a golden arc of hot liquid hit my face, soaking my shirt. My tie and trousers were wet.
I gasped and groaned—my mouth full of salty, spicy pee. After peeing, Helen sat cross-legged and reached for lemon juice.
"Used to it? Daddy? You should take off your wet clothes, I'll wash them for you." Her voice was flat, but her eyes held a smug satisfaction at getting her revenge.
"You're crazy." I took off my shirt and wiped my face with the dry part. The tie was silk and tangled up, the pants could be dry-cleaned, and the shirt was the only thing I was wearing that could be washed. And it was obvious I needed to take a shower.
"Not crazy, just naughty. Naughty girls get a spanking." "Oh, is your bottom ready! I'll go take a shower first, and then I'll deal with you." I went into the house, leaving Helen to take the shirt and blanket and throw them into the washing machine. The tie was unusable, and the pants only needed a quick rinse with cold water, leaving no trace, so I didn't need to explain to Meg how the urine got on my pants.
After the shower, I gave Helen a physical punishment that made my penis as hard as fingernails. She was waiting in my bedroom, looking very devout in repentance, with a hint of shyness.
"Daddy!" It was her pitiful little girl's voice pleading. "I'm so sorry I ruined your tie, please don't hit me." I assumed she was playing a role, so I decided to be stern and domineering.
"The sun always shines after the storm; you need to experience the right thing before you forgive. Come here." I sat on the edge of the bed, patting my thigh. Helen hesitated and reluctantly scooted over, kneeling on my lap, ready to receive punishment.
"Ouch!" she screamed, and my hand slapped her bottom hard. One hand held her neck and shin to prevent her from getting up. With each slap, her crying and struggling gradually subsided.
Her bottom was red and warm from the beating.
I admit, it was quite a sight. Between slaps, I heard Helen's nose twitch as she cried. I wasn't surprised at all; I was really hitting her.
Feeling I'd hit her enough, I stopped.
"Don't stop, Daddy," she sobbed. What else could I do? Continue, with loud, rhythmic spanking, until my palm felt numb from the stinging. I had to stop slapping her, but I still held her neck to prevent her from getting up, my fingers probing between her two bright red buttocks, stroking her anus.
"Daddy!" she stopped sobbing. "I have lubricant in my room." Incest is like skydiving; once you muster the courage to abandon everything and jump, you'll enjoy the extreme pleasure of weightlessness during the fall. I had no concept of anal sex, but my daughter had done it and was ready for it.
She struggled to stand up, but seemed a little stiff. I lifted her up and carried her to her own bed. Were the tear stains on her face, her swollen eyes, and her sobbing nose real? Was she acting too convincingly? Her punishment felt incredibly real. I felt uneasy; I didn't want to hurt my daughter no matter what. I loved her, and I've always believed we shouldn't hurt the people we love. Helen should have stopped me sooner, but she didn't. She even encouraged me to continue.
A little guilt didn't hinder my desire to have anal sex with her. I was enjoying the fall so much that I didn't want to pull the parachute line now. I gently placed her on the sheets. She quickly backed away from the burning sensation of her buttocks against the sheets, lying on her side with her legs curled up like a baby. This position accentuated her buttocks.
The lubricant was on her vanity. I picked it up and handed it to her. "Ladies first, sweetheart." She squeezed out a dollop of clear gel, placed it between her legs, and applied it around her anus with three fingers. I sat on the bed watching, needing no further stimulation to get an erection. I'd been hard ever since I showered, and everything I'd just done and was seeing now felt like steel being refined in a furnace.
"Daddy," Helen whispered, remaining quiet and obedient throughout.
"Sweetheart?"
"I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, sweetheart."
Watching her fingers probe her buttocks, I applied some gel to my penis for lubrication.
When her fingers were removed, I knew she was ready. I lay behind her, shifting my position. Her fingers reached behind and found my penis, guiding it against the slippery sphincter.
"Don't hesitate, Daddy. Naughty girls need a good lesson." Without hesitation or backing down, without the slightest doubt, I inserted my penis into her anus, feeling the resistance, the elasticity of the indentation, feeling my hard penis slide into her rectum, feeling her grip on me, pulling me deeper into her body.
"Hiss..." The sound escaped from her clenched teeth. I reached under the pillow and pulled out a vibrator. It was a smooth, white plastic rod, slightly larger than the one used on Helen's website.
"Is this your mother's?"
"Yes. You'll love it, Daddy." She turned on the switch at the bottom of the vibrator, and a low humming sound filled the room. The sound disappeared—the plastic rod slid into Helen's vagina. Through the thin walls of flesh between my daughter's vagina and rectum, I could feel the vibrator vibrating. She turned the switch up, and the vibration increased.
"Damn! That's great." I moved my hips, enhancing the sensation of my penis inside Helen's ass, but I hadn't actually started thrusting yet.
"I told you! Start fucking my daddy now. Treat me like a whore, fuck my ass." No urging was needed; I began thrusting, pushing deep in, pulling out, then pushing in again. When it reached the same depth as the vibrator inside her vagina, the vibrations traveled up my penis to the base, sending intense tremors through my groin. I groaned loudly with excitement.
My first anal sex experience was positive. Fuck! It was unparalleled. Submerged in her rounded center along with my penis were my pubic hairs pressed tightly against her hot, tender ass, the stinging pain causing Helen to writhe uncomfortably. Both holes were filled, a mixture of pleasurable moans and painful whimpers.
I had already fallen into depravity; her painful cries only excited me more. I increased my speed to enhance the pleasure, but finding it difficult to exert force in the current position, I pulled out.
"Kneel down, sweetheart." I pulled her hips up, making her kneel on the bed, her face buried in the pillow, the vibrator inserted into her thick, plump socket stretching her wet, juicy pussy open, aiming at me. Her slightly open asshole looked fucking erotic, fucking obscene... I put my dick back in. What a spectacular sight! My cock slid in and out of her little asshole, highlighting her two firm, bouncy buttocks; this might be the most erotic sight I'd ever seen.
"So good, Daddy. Fuck this little whore's ass. Fuck it hard. Fuck me until I scream... Fuck me until I orgasm." "Ah... baby... Daddy wants... to fuck you until you orgasm."
I gave it all my energy, pounding her ass hard, her face pressed into the pillow, her moans faint. I was about to cum.
"Oh... my... God! Oh oh oh... fuck me... ah... Jesus! Fuck my Daddy... ah ah ah!" Helen's orgasm amazed me. I'd never seen her come so intensely. She writhed and clawed at the pillow as I thrust into her spasming rectum. Her vagina contracted so violently that the vibrator was forced out. I pulled her onto my penis one last time and ejaculated into her anus; I felt something hot splash onto my balls at the same time. Her rectum throbbed, squeezing out the last drop of my milk.
"Sweetheart… I'm so glad you're not a girl." I pulled out and collapsed beside her. Helen knelt on top of me, ignoring the still-humming vibrator.
"I love being your little whore." She nestled in my arms, clutching my arm to her breasts.
"That's still a repulsive word."
"I like it. I am, Daddy. Tell me what I am." "You're a wonderful slut, sweetheart, Daddy's little whore. Does your butt still hurt?" "It hurts, good Daddy. I like being slapped... I tried whipping once, but slapping is better. Do you like hitting me? Is it fun to slap my little butt? Tell me, it's okay." Even though I'd already done it, I was still a little hesitant.
"Yes, sweetheart... I really get excited when I hit you. I don't know if it's good or bad." "Of course it's not bad, I like it very much." Now she sounded more mature than her actual age.
I picked up the vibrator and turned off the buzzing sound; it was really noisy. I moved it closer to look. Meg had this? How come I didn't know?
"It's big, but very ordinary." Helen noticed me and gave her professional advice.
"Mom probably got it at some women's party, one of those silly game rewards." "You don't think she bought it?" "
Well! If she did, she'd buy a much slutier one. This one was only $10." That makes sense. Meg wouldn't buy a Walmart vibrator. Another thought popped into my head. "Do you think she used it?" "Oh, of course. There are a few spare batteries in the drawer. I'm just wondering why Mom didn't change the vibrator. Daddy, you should buy her a really good one." Helen rolled over on me, facing me.
"Sweetheart. I never thought she'd have this!"
"Well? Daddy, you're so innocent. Buy her a really pretty and practical one, then tell her you want to add some spice to your foreplay. Throw this one in the trash, and Mom won't have to confess to you about it." "Sweetheart, I still..." "Daddy. Think about it. You know she's used it before. It won't be a new experience for her, and... if you don't do this, you'll be lonely when I go back to Boston." "Okay, sweetheart. But you have to come with me; I need some advice." "Deal!" She sat up, clapping her hands happily. "You can also buy me some sex toys; I'll take them back to the East Coast (Boston)." "I need to clean up." I turned and stood up.
"Can I come with you?"
"Of course, sweetheart." I took her hand and walked towards the bathroom. Holding hands felt a little novel; only lovers do this. We washed each other, and my penis inevitably felt hopeful again. Taking the opportunity to dry her off, I checked Helen's buttocks; there was only some slight redness and swelling. A sudden impulse made me kneel down and kiss each of her buttocks.
"Daddy!" Helen giggled and turned around.
"Just wanted them to heal faster, sweetheart." Just as I was about to stand up, Helen placed her hand on my shoulder to stop me. Her hips swayed gently from side to side, making my eyes turn from side to side. Her labia were very full, nestled between her thighs. I leaned forward and kissed her protruding vulva, tasting the tender flesh on my tongue.
"Lie down, Daddy."
Knowing what was about to happen, I gladly lay down on the cold porcelain slab. Helen spread her legs across my face, lowering her vulva towards me. Beautiful, beautiful! As I slowly sank down, I licked my lips. It's working! Her labia pressed against my open mouth, and I took them in and licked them together. Tasting her is heaven. What have I been doing all this time? I always thought I was very good at licking vulvas, but Helen has taught me some new tricks.
She slid back and forth across my face, slowly increasing the stimulation; she rubbed her clitoris and labia against my face, tongue, and lips, making me stretch my tongue out into her vagina; she ground her clitoris against my nose. Within the reach of my tongue, I tickled her perineum (the part between the anus and genitals) with the tip of my tongue. She giggled happily.
Helen slid forward, increasing the pressure, my nose completely submerged in her body. I could barely breathe, but who cared.
"Lick it, Daddy...make the ass recover faster."
All I had to do was stick my tongue out. Stick it out? Fuck, of course! I explored the wrinkled skin with the tip of my tongue, tasting the salty residue of the shower gel, as Helen put more weight on my face. Her anus pressed more tightly against my mouth, my tongue frantically digging into her anus, completely unaware of how long I hadn't breathed.
Helen relaxed the pressure, allowing me to exhale, and moved her buttocks to bring her vagina up. I licked gently, listening to her moans, watching her knead and squeeze her breasts.
"Mmm...lick it, Daddy...oh, so good...licking me to death...oh!" Helen reached her climax, her clitoris grinding against my nose, almost drowning me...okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but a lot of juice did flow from her vagina. She slowly recovered and moved away from my face, her flushed face proving she was more than just a little happy. She lay on top of me, kissing me passionately, releasing the afterglow of her climax. One hand groped down to my penis.
"What should we do for it, Daddy?" Her hand squeezed.
"Hmm?" She moved under me.
"Can't you guess?"
In response, her head rested on my erection. I took it as a nod and said, "That's right." After an hour of intense battle, lying down and receiving oral sex from Helen was an unparalleled pleasure.
This was also her sweet time. It was a long and pleasant oral sex session, so pleasant that I almost fell asleep. It
was only when I ejaculated that I came back to my senses.
We spent a few minutes cleaning up, getting dressed, having a few coffees in the kitchen, and then drove together to Meg's office to surprise her. That evening, the whole family ate out, and I told them the truth about the aftershave, including apologizing for wasting the gift Helen gave me, and briefly explaining that I'd gotten my pants wet at the laundromat. Meg looked radiant. Maybe I was just looking at her with a different eye, the eye of her secret toy. It seemed Helen had indeed improved my sex life in a special way. It
was time for Helen to return to Boston, and after breakfast, she and Meg had a tearful goodbye. Meg wanted to see her off at the airport, but her project was at a crucial stage and she couldn't get away. Helen and I didn't have to rush to the airport so early, and we went back to bed. My daughter and I had made love many times in the past two weeks, but this time it was the gentlest, most sincere, and most heartfelt.
I left a long, drawn-out mark on my daughter's body with kisses, a little bruise she didn't have to explain to anyone, while simultaneously announcing to the world that, no matter how secretive, my little daughter was mine.
On the way to the airport, Helen turned on some music. I thought it would be some more of her usual trash. "Marvingay" was a delightful surprise.
"Sexual Healing"—my remedy, of course, is Helen. We hugged and kissed, tears streaming down our faces. Then we watched her plane take off.
She had just reiterated her promise to call often and tell me all the dirty, sordid, and depraved details of her sex life. How many men can honestly say they'd love to hear the details of their daughter's prostitution? This is the furthest I can imagine—my lovely daughter wants to be a prostitute? No problem. She'll be the best of the best, and whoever hires her will make a fortune. She's finally grown up, and hearing the details of her prostitution will excite me greatly.
On the way home, Jamesbown went back to the DVD player. Dad's new bag will be with us forever.
[The End]

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The forbidden love between a daughter and her father

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