Short sex stories

Erotic fiction and short sex stories




Emmy and Her Daddy Ch. 03

I have been working on another mother-son story while editing this, the third chapter of Emmy and Her Daddy. I am contemplating, when done with my present projects, on either returning to July 4, My Sister, the Lake and/or a fourth chapter of this tale. The response to July 4 has been overwhelming and although the consensus has been to continue the story with Shane, enough of you have taken the view that Sam and Bella should shun Shane that, out of respect, the follow-up would be in a separate story. We'll see what ideas seep into my head.

As always, all story characters are eighteen years of age or older.


* * * *

I woke up and checked the clock. It was 3:00 A.M. Emmy's naked perfection lay next to me, the sheet across her hips, her upper body exposed, her chest rising and falling with each quiet breath. What the fuck had I done? I would need to tell Emmy this could not continue, but in a way that would not shame her. I had no idea how to do it. I lay down, my back to her. Emmy murmured something indecipherable, rolled over, draped her arm across my body, her chest pressed to my back. I felt myself getting hard. Hell, before I convinced Emmy, I'd have to convince my own dick.

* * * *

I was drifting in and out of sleep when I felt the bed move. I heard muffled footsteps on the carpet; the bedroom door opened. The smell of fresh coffee drifted into the room. I lay there, trying to put together the words for Emmy. I heard her coming down the hall, but the words eluded me. I sat up. She entered the room, naked, carrying two cups of coffee, a bounce to her walk, a look of transcendent happiness on her face. Then her eyes fixed on my face. There was an instant transformation: the joy vanished, replaced by sadness, then by focus and determination.

She handed me my coffee and sat next to me.

"You have that look Daddy, the kind that says we need to talk."

"I didn't know I had that look, but yes Emmy, we need to talk."

She swivelled, her back to me, and leaned against my body. I placed my arm around her. I couldn't see it, but from her tone I knew she was fighting back tears.

"Daddy, you're the wisest I know. I told myself that if you said we had to stop, I'd accept your decision."

"Emmy, it was wonderful, you're wonderful, but I'm your father. There are rules, fathers and daughters, they don't do this. You need to be with guys your own age, not your father."

"Did you like it last night?"

I decided to be honest. "Yes Emmy, it was amazing."

"And our vacation, have you had a good time?"

Honesty seemed advised again. "Yes Emmy, I can't remember a better time."

"Me too Daddy and last night, well I didn't know it was possible to feel that good. I'll respect your decision Daddy, but I have a request. You can say no. I promise, no hard feelings. We're leaving in a few hours, until we land back home at the airport, could we pretend, just for this little bit, that we're together, that we're lovers?"

She turned towards me. The look on her face that of a wounded child, my wounded child. It was a look to which no father, or at least not this father, could say no. And, I figured, what was the harm.

I told her yes, we could pretend. We packed, and when we walked across the hotel lobby her arm was tucked in mind. I loved it.

* * * *

I had the window seat; Emmy sat next to me, on the aisle. Ear buds in, she was listening to music. Ostensibly, I was working on my computer, checking in on the office, but I couldn't focus, my mind kept replaying the past few days. While I knew what had happened in Miami had to end there, Emmy was right, I couldn't remember enjoying myself more. And there was something else, something bigger. I turned it over and over in my mind, but I couldn't escape it: I was besotted with my daughter. Bouncing from urge to urge, more confident of what I should not want - my daughter as lover - than what I did want, I longed to get back home, to my job, to normal.

Emmy sensed my mood. She popped the buds from her ears and kissed me. "You okay Daddy?"

"Yeah honey, just a lot on my mind."

"I understand Daddy." She unbuckled her seat belt. "I'll be right back. When I do, do you mind," referring to a colorful blanket she'd bought from a Miami street vendor , "if I pull the shawl over me. It's chilly in here. "

"That's fine, honey."

"Thanks Daddy." She headed for the back of the plane, returning a few minutes later. When she leaned forward to pull her bag from under the seat, the top of her shirt fell open. I could see her breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra. She had put one on in the morning. Had she taken it off in the bathroom? Were those top buttons undone before she went to the bathroom? I recalled how good those breasts felt in my mouth the night before. Transfixed, I kept watching while Emmy, in a single motion, pulled out the shawl and dropped her bra into the bag. She laid the shawl over both our laps, raised the arm rest between our seats, and snuggled close to me. I felt the weight of her breasts against me; her hand rested on my thigh.

"Remember our deal Daddy, we get to play until the airplane lands."

"Emmy, I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"Now now Daddy, you promised."

Two fingers clasped the tab on my zipper. The sound of it descending seemed deafening. I glanced to my left. Two people sat in the seats opposite ours: one was asleep, the other wore head phones and was engrossed in her computer screen. No one reacted.

"Have you ever done this before Daddy? Had a lady play with you on an airplane?"

In fact, I had. "Emmy, that's none of your business."

Extending her lower lip, she put on a theatrical pout. "So you have. Darn, I was hoping to be the first. Well, maybe I can be the best."

Her hand moved inside my underpants and grasped my stiff dick; a thrill ran through my core. I'd like to say I put up a fight, but I didn't. I'd told Emmy we could play until we got back and, although that might be the flimsiest of excuses for letting your daughter jerk you off on an airplane, it was all the excuse I needed.

"Undo your belt Daddy."

I shifted position, hoping the motion would distract anyone who might be watching, and unbuckled my belt. I pulled the window shut, as if ready for a nap.

"Emmy, can you hand me a pillow?"

"Yes Daddy."

I pushed the pillow into the corner where my seat met the airplane's wall, resting my head on it. Her hand stroking my dick, Emmy leaned against me, her breasts flattening on my side.

Emmy was patient. She lightly ran her fingertips up and down my penis, sometimes grabbing the shaft, sometimes visiting my ball sac, which she'd hold in her hand while rolling my testicles around with her fingers. When a drop of pre-cum emerged, she'd rub it into the head with her thumb. She was enjoying herself. This was something she'd said she'd longed to do for years. This would be her last opportunity - she intended to take full advantage.

And it felt great, my dick was awash in a sea of delightful sensations. Then the captain's voice filled the cabin. We were thirty minutes from landing.

Emmy wrapped her fingers around the shaft, and, using only her wrist, pumped up and down. The movement was slight, undetectable to anyone not looking for it. I relaxed, trying to forget where we were, focusing on what was happening between my legs, immersing myself in the wonderous vibrations spreading through my body. Emmy moved, dragging her breasts across my back, and slid her other hand under the blanket. One hand wrapped around the base of my shaft, the other cupped the cock-head. I breathed-in sharply, barely suppressing a groan. Emmy noticed. The hand on the base of my shaft dropped down to my balls, twiddling with my testicles. The other hand, palm open, rested on abdomen, calming me.

I nodded when I'd gotten control of myself. The hand on my stomach drifted back down, taking hold of my cock. Emmy pumped the shaft with her wrist, sliding the skin up and down. I let the sensations flow over me, but monitored my breathing to make sure I didn't start moaning. This went on for several minutes; my balls began to tingle. Emmy tightened her grip on my shaft and moved her other hand behind my scrotum, thrusting my testicles forward.

I began a slight rotation of my hips, moving my body in time with her hands. Emmy snuggled closer to me, obscuring my movement, then licked my ear and whispered, "After you come Daddy I gonna lick it all up, right here on the airplane."

It was heaven. I was absorbed in the delights dancing up and down my pole, absorbed by the gorgeous brunette whose body was pressed to mine. My balls tightened up, retracted into my scrotum. Emmy let go of my shaft, grasped the crown of my penis, using the copious flow of pre-cum to slide her palm over and around the head. The plane's flaps extended, slowing us down, starting the descent, increasing the ambient noise. I swallowed some groans and then I felt it; I was coming. Cum rocketed up my penis, coating my daughter's hand. I buried my face in my pillow, muffling a single unstoppable grunt.

"Sir, you need to return your seat to..."

I turned to look at the stewardess, a comely redhead whom I'd noticed as soon as I got on the plane. She looked at my flushed face, then my daughter's mischievous smile.

"I'll be right back with some paper towels."

My daughter pulled her hands from under the shawl and, taking her time, pushed each cum-laden finger into her mouth, licking it up.

The stewardess returned. "Does he taste good?"

"Scrumptious. Like some?" The stewardess nodded and Emmy held up a hand; a few drops of cum sat atop a fingertip.

Bending down, delight dancing in her green eyes, the red head's tongue darted out, capturing my seed. She stood back up, smiled, and handed Emmy some paper towels and a small bottle of hand cleaner before turning her attention to me, "Well sir, you're one person I won't need to ask whether he enjoyed the flight."

* * * *

We were walking down the terminal, heading for baggage claim, looking like any other father and daughter. Emmy's voice was clear and precise, reflecting both pain and strength.

"Daddy, I gave you my word. We're back on the ground. We're home. I will not try to be your lover; I will date those boys you said were my future."

* * * *

Emmy was true to her word; she dated; she dated a lot. I suspect she accepted every invitation she got; guys tromped through the house: high school kids, college dudes, some of the city's young professionals. Good looking kids, okay looking kids, smart guys, dumb guys, guys driving jalopies, guys driving Porsche's. None showed up more than twice and it was clear that Emmy was captivated by none of them.

I dated more. I fucked more. I couldn't get through a sex act without thinking about my daughter.

And although we were not lovers, our relationship had irretrievably changed. On a day-to-day basis, we were, well not best-friends, I didn't talk to her like she was a guy pal, but we were intimate. During the evening we'd sit together, her body leaning into mine, sharing all the day's joys and frustrations, happy to talk to someone who cared and listened. Somehow I found it acceptable when Emmy asked, with a smirk, how my date had gone. I didn't ask about hers. I didn't want to hear about her with another man.

The physical boundaries that should separate father and daughter also broke down. We were not pawing each other or touching private parts; we did not see each other naked. However, when in the same room we sat together. In public, without thinking about it, she'd lay her hand on mine or on my back. I'd lean into her, touch her face, push a strand of hair or two back into place.

* * * *

Emmy asked me if she could stay out late on New Year's Eve. Nina, her best friend and something of a wild child, was throwing a party. Emmy said Nina's parents would be home. I trusted, Nina not so much. I called her parents, just to make sure. I told Emmy it was okay.

That day, as she headed for her room to prepare, I asked, "Who's the lucky guy tonight?"

"Melvin."

"Melvin?"

"Y'know Daddy, Melvin, Biff."

Melvin McConnell, called Biff by everyone but my daughter, had led Emmy's high school to the state 5-A football championship the year before. With an obvious crush on my daughter, he'd been a constant presence at the house. She'd hang with him, but described and treated him as a friend and Melvin, good-naturedly, accepted this status.

Since that time his star had risen. He'd signed a scholarship with the state university. While it had been anticipated he'd redshirt his freshman year, Biff was called to duty after a dismal 1 and 3 start in which the first and second string quarterbacks were injured. He rescued the moribund season, leading the team to a 6 and 1 finish, including an upset win in the Music City Bowl. He was also about as good-looking a kid as you could imagine, the heart-throb of half the women in the state.

"Nina invited him to the party." Nina had dated Biff for several months during his senior year. "He called me 'bout a week ago, asked me to go with him. I told him sure."

* * * *

Emmy was upstairs getting ready when Biff, holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing khakis and a button down white shirt, knocked on the door. He was bigger than I remembered; time in the weight room had filled out his six foot three inch frame. He kept his blonde hair short and clean cut. He was the All-American kid.

He shook my hand. "Hello Mr. Jaworski. It's been a long time. Hope all is well."

Nice grip, I thought. "Yes Biff, life's pretty good. I've been following your career. You've made us all proud. Come on in. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Thank you sir. Water would be nice."

He followed me to the kitchen. We traded stories of recent events, Biff treating his football success with the kind of aw-shucks humility which, if I hadn't known him for a dozen years, known that this was the real Biff, would have seemed to good to be true.

"Hey guys."

Emmy walked into the kitchen. She was wearing red sandals with a two inch heel, very tight jeans, and a bright red shirt that although not skimpy - it had shoulders, half-length sleeves, and showed only a hint of cleavage - still fully advertised my daughter's superb physique. She wore a bit more make-up than normal: her red lipstick matched her outfit, her eye-make up more pronounced than usual. She was beautiful.

We made polite small talk for another ten minutes, then Biff and Emmy left. I watched them through the living room's plate glass window. Biff held the passenger side door open for my daughter.

I had a date that night with a neighborhood lady who, like I, decided to take advantage of the fact that our kids were at parties. She cooked dinner, the food was good. I couldn't get Biff and Emmy out of my mind. We crawled into bed. I couldn't keep an erection. I let her believe it was work issues, apologized, used my mouth and fingers on her, left her drifting into a contented happy sleep, got home around 1:00 A.M. Emmy and Biff were still out. I turned off the lights. I couldn't fall asleep. I masturbated. Images of Emmy filled my brain and while I normally tried to push them away, that night I didn't try very hard. I came and drifted into a shallow uneven sleep.

I heard Biff's car pull up around 2:15. I got up, watched them from my window. He opened Emmy's door for her and walked her to the house. I could hear them downstairs. She thanked him, said she had a wonderful time, apologized for some act she did not identify. He said it was okay, his voice genuine, comforting; they kissed good night. The door closed; he left.

Emmy started crying and running up the steps. I opened my door.

"Emmy, are you okay?"

She stopped and turned towards me, tears and mascara smeared on her face.

"I'm not ready to talk about it Daddy."

She entered her room, shut the door hard, ran a bath.

About forty-five minutes later I heard the tub draining. I waited a few minutes and knocked on her door.

"Emmy."

"You can come in Daddy."

Wearing a short robe, she was sitting on her bed. Her hair was wet, her hair dryer and brush next to her.

"Would you do my hair Daddy?"

"Sure Emmy."

I dried her hair; we said nothing. When I was done, her back to me, she started to talk. There was an edge of near-exhaustion to her voice. The tears I saw when she came up the stairs were, I realized, only the beginning of a long hard cry, the sound drowned out by the noise of her bath. She was worn out.

"Daddy, you're the smartest wisest man I know, but you're wrong. I was not made for a boy my own age, I was not made for anyone but you. I've tried real hard like you said I should, I've gone out with lots of guys and I really really tried to like them, but nothing. Then when Melvin called, I thought it was the answer to my prayers. He's cute and very nice, every girl wants him. He's had a thing for me for years and treats me like a queen. Heck, Nina even told me - and she's had enough experience to know - he's great in bed. So when he called I figured Daddy's right, this is what I've been waiting for.

"So tonight, we snuck out of Nina's party, went to a friend's house where no one was home, made out, took off each other's clothes, and I touched his penis and it was all so wrong and I started bawling. He was so sweet Daddy. He thought I was a virgin, that I wasn't ready, that I'd rushed myself, and I let him think that. But Daddy, the idea of another man being inside me, Daddy it's horrible, it's horrible. I don't want it. I don't want it!"

She shuddered.

"There is only one man for me Daddy. You."

She started crying.

I took her in my arms. We lay down. She cried some more. When she stopped I retrieved some Kleenex from her bathroom. With a grateful smile she dried her face.

"I'm sorry Daddy, I'm being such a baby."

She rolled over on her side. I lay behind her, holding her in the spoon position. We were quiet. I waited, waited until she stopped sniffling; waited for her body to relax, waited some more. Then I said, "Emmy, if we were lovers, no one could ever know, do you understand that?"

She placed her hands on mine, pressed them to her body.

"Yes Daddy."

"There will be things about being lovers that you and I could never do; hold hands in public, kiss before others, go on dates, you'd have to give all that up."

"I understand Daddy. But I need you to understand something. I want you. I know I'm not supposed to, I understand the problems; I've struggled with this for years. I've tried a thousand different ways to stop feeling this way and when they didn't work, I tried them again. But it's you I love you and you I want. Daddy, we love each other, we want each other. There is no reason we shouldn't be together just because society has some rules."

There was no resistance left in me. Emmy was right, I wanted her. I got up on an elbow. Emmy rolled over and faced me. I leaned in and kissed her; her eyes softened. She opened her mouth to my tongue and then kissed me back, her hand on my hip. I ran a hand through her hair, kissed her cheek, kissed an earlobe.

Emmy murmured, "Daddy," then rolled on top of me. I was on my back, her slender body atop mine. Her black hair tumbled around my head. She smiled, a sweet happy smile, and kissed me, then kissed me again. One of her legs was between mine, her thigh pressed to my penis. She kissed my cheek, rose up on her knees, undid the belt of her robe, and shrugged her shoulders. The robe fell to the bed. She arched her back, displaying her unworldly body, her breasts standing firm and tall on her chest. Emmy looked down, bit her bottom lip, touched a breast. The nipple jumped to attention. Her hand moved lower, sliding inside her panties, tracing her pussy lips.
"If you want it Daddy, it's all yours."

She moved backwards, straddled my thighs, reached for my penis, pulled it free of my pyjamas. A drop of pre-cum emerged; she smeared it into the crown, then brought her finger to her mouth for a taste. She flicked her head, her hair swung behind her, and lay down next to me, unbuttoning my pyjama tops. I rolled on my side and she licked my nipples.

I kissed her, kissed her again. I had intended my kisses to be sweet and tender, and although they started that way, they quickly evolved into something else, desperate and needy and hungry, my sheer animal desire for my daughter, denied during the past month, overpowering everything else. I had lied to myself, treating what happened in Miami as Emmy's issue and my temporary weakness. The truth was that I burned for this woman; I was frantic to possess her.

Emmy kissed me back. Our lips and tongues dueled. She offered me her breasts and I devoured them, sucking on hard fat nipples. She dug her nails into my scalp, her moans desperate and bestial. She wanted me as much as I wanted her. I ground my leg into her cunt, feeling the moist heat through her thong.

"Ooooooo Daddy, bite them, bite my nipples, oooooooooo just like that Daddy."

Emmy wrapped one hand around my erection; the other, grabbing a handful of my hair, pulled me from her breast. She brought her mouth to mine. We exchanged sloppy hot wet kisses and then she said, "On your back Daddy, there's something I want to do."

I rolled onto my back. Emmy moving down the bed, her hand playing with my erection, gave me her best, not particularly good, imitation of a wanton smile. I smiled right back and we both laughed, celebrating the release of desires we'd corralled for too long.

"Daddy, I'm so happy. I can't believe this is finally happening. There is something I've been wanting since," her gaze flickered down to her breasts, "I got big up here. Will you be mine Daddy?"

"Yes Emmy, for as long as you'll have me."

Emmy leaned over my cock, dragging her breasts along my thighs. Spit oozed from her mouth onto my tool. She captured my cock with her boobs, squeezed, and, in slow motion, started to titty-fuck me, rolling her huge tits against my cock. I moaned and reached for her, but she shifted her shoulders, avoiding me. "No Daddy, I want to do this."

I tried to be still, to let her control the action, but it was hopeless. I looked down, watching my cock-head emerge and disappear into the canyon of my daughter's tit-flesh, then looked into her soulful brown eyes. I tried to relax, tried to let my daughter take control, but the sensations were intense and irresistible and soon I was moving my hips, fucking my daughter's tits.

She didn't seem to mind. "Do you like it Daddy? Do you like fucking my titties? All the boys want to, but I saved them for you."

I'd always liked a little dirty talk in bed, but when it came from my own sweet child, well, that's a turn-on.

We found a steady rhythm. Whenever the crown of my cock emerged from her breasts, Emmy swiped it with her tongue.

It was wonderful. Her tits, lubricated by a steady supply of Emmy's slippery spittle, were tight and firm, but I knew if it went on much longer I'd blow my wad. It was three in the morning and I'd already masturbated. If I came now at best I'd be useless, at worst I'd pass out and start snoring. Not how I wanted Emmy to remember this moment.

"Emmy, get on your back."

With a theatrical pout, Emmy said, "Why Daddy, don't you like fucking my fat tits? My boobies sure like it."

"Love it honey, but there's something else I want to do right now."

Emmy smiled; she understood. She crawled forward on all fours. I kissed her mouth, her neck, her earlobe. She brought her tits to my face. I sucked a nipple into my mouth, gliding my tongue, first the rough top, then the soft bottom, over it. While running my fingers up and down the sides of her body, I gave her other breast the same attention. Then, holding her by the hips, I rolled her onto her back, kissed and nipped her flat stomach and shallow belly button, arriving at her panties, red and sheer and so wet I had to peel them off.

I was staring at my child's naked pussy; I savored the scent of the wet oozing flesh.

While I considered diving right in, I wanted to do this right. I kissed my way down her thighs, enjoying their taut muscularity. Placing her legs over my shoulders, I kissed back up, heading towards Emmy's sex. I could smell her excitement. I spread my daughter's pussy lips with my fingers and stabbed my tongue inside her.

Emmy's hips jerked; she grabbed my head. "Oh Daddy, do it, do it, nice and slow, I want to remember this forever, oh yessssss, that's the spot, so good."

My daughter was an active engaged lover, just the way I like. I worked her cunt: tongue fucking, sucking on labial lips, slapping her clit with my tongue, munching on her hot delicious warm wet pussy. When words failed her I listened to her moans, responding to the way her body flexed and moved and shook. I sucked on her clit, slipped a finger into her vagina. I knew I'd found her g-spot when Emmy shoved her sex into me, squeezing my head with her thighs, babbling my name. I worked her clit, held it, rolled it between my lips, tickled it with the tip of my tongue, slid my tongue over it. Her moans became short, hard, staccato: she was ready. I pressed my forefinger to her g-spot, rolled a swollen fat nipple between thumb and forefinger, and assaulted her fat clit, battering it with a rat-a-tat attack, like a boxer working a speed bag,

Emmy was undulating, writhing on the bed.

"Oh Daddy, that it what I need. Lick my clit, Daddy! Oh, fuck, oh, please, I love it, need it so bad! Use your lips, suck on it. Suck my clit, make me come."

Emmy locked her legs around my back and sank her short nails into my shoulders, wildly lunging her fiery pussy into my face, her head thrashing from side to side. She bucked hard into me and her clit slipped from my mouth. She rubbed her wet pussy over my face. I grabbed her hips, held her in place, wrapped my lips back around her throbbing clit, sucked it hard, slapped it with my tongue, all the while slamming two fingers in and out of her gushing clinging hot cunt.

"Oh Daddy. I never dreamed-aaaaagh. Don't stop. Oooooh. Suck me, lick me, I'm cuummmiiinnnngggg! I'm cumming-cummmmmmmmming. Daddy, daddy darling, suck me faster, faster-aaaaaagh."

Her pussy exploded, erupting in a series of uncontrollable spasms. The pink interior of her cunt contracted on my fingers, trying to suck them inside. She lifted her ass, pushed her sex into my face, wriggled as the orgasm born in her cunt blazed through her voluptuous body in breathtaking mind-bending ripples. She begged me not to stop and another thrilling wave of violent joy followed, then another. I kept sucking, but gently, intensifying, prolonging the ecstasy of her serial orgasms. Her pussy juice was sweet and divine, I tried to lap up every drop. Finally, unable to withstand additional stimulation, Emmy begged me to stop.

I crawled up on the bed, took her in my arms, and kissed her, long, slow, and deep. I pulled back - we both needed the catch our breath - and she smiled, kissed the tip of her index finger, pressed it to my forehead and, her face beaming with joy, said, "I tasted me on your lips," then added, more urgently, "Daddy its time, time to fuck me, my darling wonderful Daddy, I need you inside me."

I straddled her sweat soaked body. My daughter reached between us, holding my penis to her pussy. "I want you to fuck me. Right now. Make me yours Daddy. Make me yours forever."

She was right. There was no going back. To enter her now was to make a commitment. I would be taking her as my lover. I thought, as her father, I should struggle with the decision, but I didn't. She was what I wanted. I should have learned that in Miami; I knew it now.

I entered her, nice and easy, sliding into the depths of her sex through a passage tight and warm and wet and perfect. "You're mine now Emmy. From now on you belong to me."

A radiant smile on her face, she said, "Yes Daddy, I belong to you."

I started slow, giving her time to recover and educating myself, acquainting myself with my daughter, noting how she responded, moved, groaned, gasped. I ground against her, my hips moved back and forth, up and down, in short straight lines, in circles, in ovals. Her pussy was exquisite, tight, and muscular, muscles Emmy used to squeeze and massage my cock. I increased the pace, thrusting in and out, and Emmy responded, moving her body against mine. Sweat formed on my skin, mingling with hers. I lowered myself, feeling her hard nipples on my chest, then crushing her breasts between us. Our damp bodies slid against each other. The walls of her vagina sucked on my dick

Her hands slid up my back to my shoulders. "Oh Daddy, it feels so good."

Emmy lay her feet on the back of my ankles, further opening herself to me. She pulled my head into her shoulder and said, the words made even more powerfully erotic by her sweet loving voice, "Fuck your daughter Daddy. Fuck your daughter's tight juicy cunt. Harder Daddy, take it, it belongs to you now, it always has. Daddy, fuck my pussy."

I withdrew until only the crown of my cock remained inside her, paused, then speared into her. She grunted, a sound from deep inside her solar plexus. Her grip on my shoulders tightened. This is what we both wanted, what we both needed, sex so all consuming we could never undo it. I fucked my sweet daughter fast and hard; the bed bounced as my fuck rod plummeted into the clinging sheath of my child's perfect pussy. I was a piledriver; panting, delirious with pleasure, savoring my daughter, filling her fuck-hole. Deeper and deeper I went, approaching the depths of her womb. Emmy, matched me, madly humping her ass off the bed, sliding her dripping sucking pussy over my cock.

"Make me cum Daddy. Oh fuck, please please please fuck the shit out of me."

Her face was red; she tossed her head from side to side. We reveled in the forbidden taboo, a father claiming his daughter; a daughter committing, dedicating, her body, her life, to her father.

"Unnggghh. Oh, fuck, oh fuck. Make me cum Daddy. Fuck me faster! Make my pussy cum. I love you Daddy, I love you."

I'd thought I was fucking Emmy as fast and hard as I could, but I found a hidden reserve of strength and picked up the pace. My balls, full of spunk, slapped against her ass. Emmy, gasping and squealing, drove her butt off the bed, her hot sweet snatch enveloping my cock.

Emmy growled, then tensed, then hollered: "I'm cumming Daddy! Daddy, its wonderful. Fuck my cunt, fuck my juicy cunt. Oh, yes, oh, fuck, fuck, fuuuck! Harder, harder, oh Daddy Daddy Daddy I'm cuummmiiinnngg."

Her pussy spasmed, clenched, bound itself to my dick. I stiffened, unable to hold back, and unloaded into her, then collapsed onto her body. As I did so she came again, her vagina contracting on my prick, squeezing ejaculate from my softening penis. Emmy whimpered, basking in the feeling as my jism drained into her. Then, with a wicked smile, she flexed her fuck muscles, forcing a final few drops from my cock.

I stroked her face, kissed her eyes and nose, cheeks and chin, told her how much I loved her, that she was the best girl in the world. I pulled out of her to a wet plopping sound; I was flaccid, completely soft. Our combined cum ran down her thighs.

I held her. I looked out the window; the sun was coming up.

"It's sunrise Emmy."

She followed my eyes. Her voice weak, but sincere, she said, "It's beautiful Daddy."

"I love you Emmy."

"I love you Daddy."

I kissed the side of her head. We fell asleep.

* * * *

I woke shortly after noon. Emmy's slender form lay next to me, her chest rising with each breath. I smiled; here was the woman I wanted. My first impulse was to wake her and pick up where we'd stopped last night. My second, kinder, thought: the girl needed her sleep. I rolled out of bed to fix her favorite lunch: avocado tuna salad.

I had just finished working the celery into the mix when I heard a clicking sound on the kitchen's tile floor. I turned; it was Emmy. She brought a finger to her lips; I was to be quiet. She was wearing a black demi-cup basque with spaghetti straps. Garter straps supported black silk stockings; her panties were lacy and sheer. The source of the clicking were five inch stiletto heels.

I stared; my mouth ajar. She turned around, her backside plainly visible through her panties; a seam ran up the back of her stockings.

She turned to face me.

"You like?"

"Oh yes, very much."

She had combed her hair and put on red lipstick, but her appearance remained disheveled, like someone who'd just crawled out of bed. She smelled of last night's sex.

She walked towards me, slowly, letting me study her form.

"You made my favorite. Can I taste?"

I nodded. She dipped a finger into the bowl, caught some on a fingertip, slipped the finger into her mouth, slid it out, carefully chewed the tuna salad.

"I think it needs some salt and pepper. What do you think Daddy?'

Her finger went back in the bowl. She pushed a gob of the tuna salad into my mouth. I sucked on her finger. She said, "Y'know those catalogs, I pay attention to what you look at, try to figure out what you like. This one, that I'm wearing, you seemed to like it."

Her finger came out of my mouth.

"I do Emmy, but you make everything look good."

"Thank you Daddy." She moved forward. Her breasts were pressed to my chest, moving against me with each of her breaths. She kissed me, lips only, long and lingering. My hands settled on her hips.

"What do you think Daddy? Does it need salt and pepper?"

"I can't say I noticed Emmy."

"Maybe you should try some more." Her finger dropped into the bowl and brought another scoop to my mouth. This time, as best I could, I focused on the taste. She was right, a bit of salt and pepper.

I grabbed the salt and pepper, Emmy the napkins and a small spoon. We adjourned to a love seat on our enclosed porch, which overlooked our back yard garden. The sun was up; it was a lovely day. Nestled against each other, we took turns, feeding each other with the spoon, with our fingers. When done Emmy lay the bowl on an end table. I kissed my daughter.

Her lips were soft and pliant and sweet. They were the same lips I'd kissed for eighteen years, the same lips that had framed a million happy smiles, but now I was learning what else they could do. I licked across them, tasting the lunch we'd shared. Emmy responded; her tongue swiped over my lips and her fingers slid up my arm, gripping my biceps. A spark of heat rushed through me; my face flamed hot. Emmy tilted her head and brought her mouth to mine. My lips parted and, almost timidly, Emmy touched her tongue to mine. Her fingers moved to my head, held me, coaxed me to deepen and prolong the kiss; I pushed my tongue into her mouth. Our tongues collided, caressed, teased, dueled.

After several passionate minutes Emmy snuggled up to me and lay her head on my shoulder. Touching my nose with her index finger, she explored its contours, then moved the finger to my lips, tracing their shape. She turned to face me, mouthed the words, "I love you," and licked my upper, then my lower, lip. When she was done I ran my tongue along my lips, savoring her lingering taste. Emmy winked and, capturing my lower lip with her teeth, tugged on it. She laughed.

"Daddy, I want to help you live every fantasy, every dream you've ever had."

I looked into her deep brown eyes. There was no artifice; she meant what she said. My daughter would be my perfect lover. I touched her chin, lowered my lips to hers. I slid my fingers into her hair and held her. We took turns pushing our tongues into each other's mouths, taking our time; we had forever.

Emmy's hand slipped inside my robe. She ran a finger up and down my erection. I moaned into her mouth. She, taking hold of my penis, fisted my cock.

"Daddy, I want you in my mouth."

She parted my robe, kissed my nipples, then lowered her head, licked the head of my cock, took two inches into her mouth, sucked on it, moved her lips against it, relished its feel and taste. She sat back up, kissed my lips.

"You taste good Daddy. I'm going to love sucking your dick."

Emmy dropped to the floor, knelt before me. I let my robe fall from my body. She licked my shaft. I looked at her fat breasts barely contained by the cups of her basque. She took my balls in her hands, caressed them, licked them, covered them in spit, returned to the shaft.

Emmy was in no rush. She'd take three, then four, inches into her mouth, bathe it with her tongue and cheeks, then pull back until only the cock-head remained in her mouth, running her tongue over it while twisting her hand on my shaft. Her other hand massaged my balls; a fingertip was pressed to my perineum.

"Oh Daddy, I've wanted this for so long. I'm so happy."

She bobbed her head up and down my dick; about half its length disappearing into her face. She took her mouth from my cock, wiped away the spit that covered her chin with her forearm, and sucked a testicle into her mouth, massaging it with the inside of her cheeks, then gave the other the same treatment. It was amazing, my beautiful sexy daughter was mouthing my nuts. A random thought invaded my skull, a wicked, depraved, and incredibly arousing thought: my balls, now worshiped by my daughter, were the place she'd originated.

"Oh Emmy, it feels so good, it's wonderful, suck Daddy's dick."

She looked up. There was a twinkle in her eyes. My acknowledgment of our incestuous union excited her as much as it did me. Emmy pushed a testicle from her mouth and returned to licking them. Saliva, dripping from her mouth, coated her cheeks and chin. She wrapped her fingers around my cock-head and rotated her palm, using my pre-cum and her spittle as lubricant. My testicles retracted; Emmy pressed her thumb to the base of my ball sac, calming me down, delaying my orgasm.

Then, making sure I watched her every move, she kissed my balls, her impossibly thick lips enveloping them. She moved up, dragging her silky hair over my dick, and swallowed my cock. Her head moved up and down; her eyes danced in delight. She slurped and gulped, raised herself on her knees and leaned forward, forcing more of me into her face. She looked into my eyes; her brown eyes implored me to come, to feed her my thick cum. My jism boiled in my balls. Emmy tightened her soft slippery lips around my cockhead, ran her tongue over its surface. It was too much. I moaned and exploded, pouring my gooey spunk into her mouth. She choked a little, but held on, drinking down spurt after spurt. A bit dribbled past her lips.

Taking her time, making a show of it, she let my cock slide from her mouth. She smiled, kissed the still red crown, ran her tongue along her lower lips and chin, capturing the few drops of semen that had escaped.

"Mmmmm. Daddy, you taste so good. Your cum, it's thick and creamy and delicious. I gonna want to do this a whole bunch. That is, if you don't mind?"

She stood, displaying her magnificent body. I struggled to my feet and held her, told her I loved her, apologized for taking so long to understand, told her that I was hers. We went to the master bedroom, now our bedroom. During the rest of the afternoon I peeled off her lingerie, item by item, and we made love. When done, naked except for stockings, Emmy lay perpendicular to me, her head resting on my stomach.

"Emmy, what you said earlier, about wanting me to live all my fantasies, it's a two way street. Whatever you've dreamed about, I want to help make come true."

Emmy rolled over, her breasts hanging below her.
"You may want to be careful about that promise Daddy-o, it's a pretty tall order. I've spent half-a-dozen years living with a man who makes me crazy with lust who I ain't been able to touch. I've had a million dreams, but I think you'll like them."

emmy   and   her   daddy  

Sep 15, 2018 in blowjob

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