AUTHOR	Jaybee
DATE ADDED	10th January, 2003
AUTHOR EMAIL
STORY CODES	M/F, inc, preg

 

"Is that all you are going to do this summer?" I couldn't but ask my nineteen-year old daughter as she started to squat down for what had become a daily diet of yoga. It is not that I have anything against the practice - but to see my daughter sitting cross-legged, with those long, tanned legs wearing just the tightest of shorts and a shirt with the top three buttons undone to allow me peeks of the elastic band of her bra... it evokes feelings that are not exactly yoga-solvable.

On this day, instead of the usual three, four buttons were undone. I could see the creamy sides of my daughter's breasts.

"Daddy!" my daughter chided, pulling one leg over the other. "It's not a waste of time... besides, it helps me to relax and let go of all the sexual tensions in my body."

Don't get shocked - Amy and I are pretty close for a father and his daughter. She is nineteen, I am thirty-eight. My wife is a sales rep in the city, and her work takes her away from the house from seven to seven. Fine by me, because I like to ogle my daughter as she prances around in the briefest of swimsuits and summer-dresses. Amy likes the attention I give her scantily-clad body, and although we haven't been overt about it, there was a liberated air between us.

Which was probably why sex was not such a taboo subject between us. Even though my daughter must have realized that I am aware of her sexuality, she never loses an opportunity to press the point. It was only a month ago that I hit upon the idea of reciprocating her - at one time or the other, after a particularly risque remark or another, I would catch my crotch and pretend to adjust the hard-on.

In reality, though, I was just drawing her attention to my erection.

So on this day, when she makes this crack about being sexually frustrated, I rub a hand against my crotch - 'surreptitiously,' of course. I saw her eyes dart down to my region, taking in the sight of the tent that had been put up as soon as she had swaggered into the room, and smiling at me as she realized that I had caught her looking at me.

Just some harmless flirting, I could say. Honestly, I wouldn't.

"Sexual release, huh? Whoa! That's a big problem!" I pretended to be serious about the whole thing, rubbing my jaw and looking upwards, in the manner of one who is trying to recall the past. "In my youth, there was a very effective - and simple solution - for the nemesis you mentioned."

She sprang to the bait. "Oh yeah? And what's it called?"

"It's too simple, actually. It's more a technique for girls - sorry, ladies - women, if you will - just because women have a higher strike rate with it."

"Sounds good - what is it?" She smiled mischievously at me.

"Humph!" I grunted theatrically. "Some father - I am actually instructing you on sexual releases... wait till the guys at the pub hear of this."

"Don't you dare mention this to anyone at the - waitaminute, you don't go to any pub!"

I grinned at her. "Too bad - think I will start one of these days."

"Yeah! And you can stand outside until you get the stench of rum off your body. Ugh - but the technique, please, Daddy dear?" She batted those baby-blue eyes at me.

"Point taken. As for the technique... it's too simple really. I am almost ashamed that I have to mention it -"

"Cut the crap and say it. Please."

"Awright, awright, you impatient minx. The secret's simple. Just... GET LAID!" I all but shouted at the top of my voice. Since the nearest neighbor was over fifty meters away, I was safe.

The pillow missed me by a mile, crashing instead into the crystal jar of sugar atop the dinner table, and the resounding crash brought my daughter to her feet.

"Look what you did," she threw at me accusingly. But she was smiling.

"ME? I did it? It was your throw - you oughta pitch for the Yankees, you know... couldn't hit the side of a barn with a rocket!"

"Well, you made me throw it at you, didn't ya?" She stuck her tongue out at me, but I wasn't about to her licked. Metaphorically, of course.

"Really? I am sure your yoga Guru would only be too pleased to learn that you seem to think of it as sex."

She tried to think up a suitable retort, but having found none, she took the next course of best result. She broke into laughter. "God, how I wish I had inherited your tongue!"

"That would have been confusing - I mean, what would be your 'mother'tongue then?" I can see some of you roll your eyes at my joke, but hey, if it tickled Amy, that's all that matters. She had another fit of laughter.

"I'll clean it up later, Daddy," she promised between gasps. "Right now, I need to get some of the jelly out of my pussy."

"Ummm! I love jelly."

She shot me an amused look. For a second, I had bitten hard on my tongue - this was the most suggestive of remarks I had ever told her, and hell, even a stranger would have slapped me all over the town for my comment. I probably deserved a couple of blows to my ass anyway.

"It's not the kind you can scoop up with a spoon and eat, Daddy. Besides, the taste should be entirely different - but I am sure you must be aware of that."

If she was referring to my sex-life with my wife, I had to set the record straight. "Actually, honey, it's been so long since I had some that I thought they had unified the taste."

"Very funny, Dad, but I could swear I heard a lot of grunting a couple of nights ago in your bedroom."

"That was just your father," I waved a hand as a sign of dismissal, "Having sex with his hand. Your mother was making love to a sleeping pill at the time."

Okay, so this was not an everyday conversation in our household, but I am sure you got an idea of the kind of casualness that my daughter and I exercised in our relationship.

"Oops! My mistake," my daughter said, a sly smile on her face.

"Anyway," I changed the subject. "What's the problem, hun? I mean, what's a girl as sexy as you doing looking elsewhere for some relief, as you call it? I am disillusioned - I was under the impression that all you had to do to get some cock was just a whistle and voila! a slew of boys to choose from."

"If there was a compliment in there for me somewhere, Daddy, thanks! Unfortunately, it's not as open and shut as you think it is."

"You'll have to elaborate on that."

She paused, apparently deliberating the response - if one was forthcoming at all. Finally, she began. "My period is just a couple of days away, for one thing. I know, there are the pills, but I ran out of them a week back - the local drugstore expects the next batch only by Monday. So right now, I am as fertile - read unsafe - as I've ever been in my life."

"You could buy them from the city - "

"Drive all the way and back - no gas, Daddy. It's too hot to go anywhere. Besides, I can't always look for a man when I need to let off some heat... in the long run, I don't suppose it would work."

"You are right - in the long run, no. But what you are telling me now is that yoga gives you the same feeling as being knackered?"

"Certain positions only, Daddy, and it's more a matter of perspective than by design. What is sexual to me doesn't need to be so to you too."

"Hogwash!" I retorted.

"No, it is not. In any case, I suppose you've got a better plan?"

Wheels turned; the projected output was mapped out. Seductions had been my specialty back in college - as my wife could easily testify - and I was confident I hadn't lost my touch. "As a matter of fact, I do."

Her eyes sparkled; Phase one, vis her undivided attention, was a success. "Well, go on. We don't keep secrets from each other, do we? Dahling?" She rolled the last word over her tongue, making it appear more sultry than it was proper.

I picked a seat across from her, and made myself comfortable before even looking at her again. Her curiosity was building, I knew it, and I needed to raise it to a crescendo if I was to succeed. A crest, a trough and a crest - the geometrical representation of man's greatest weakness, his curiosity. If I remember correctly, it was curiosity that killed the pussy!

"Massage. A slow, sensuous massage. Does the trick every time."

Her eyes conveyed her disappointment mixed with a larger dose of disbelief. She thought I was joking. The peaked anticipation dropped down. She was going down the trough.

"You don't believe me, I see," I said simply.

"Of course I don't. Sheesh! I thought you were going to let me in on a great secret - damn, even yoga sounds far more satisfying than that!"

"Is it a bet?" I countered. Amy could never resist the excitement of a challenge, especially when she felt so strongly that she would win. "Want to put your body where the mouth is?"

She stared at me long and hard, apparently waiting for a punchline or a hint of a smile that would tell her I was joking. I fixed her eyes with a level gaze, driving away all doubts from her mind. It took her all of a minute to nod her acquiescence. "And the keep?"

"That whatever we agree upon as the better way, both of us accept it."

"You mean, if I prove to you that yoga is better, you will join me at it?"

"Yes. And if I prove to you - as doubtless I will - that a massage delivered by trained hands is the better choice, then you should always opt for a massage when you want some sexual release."

"Deal. But how do we go about it?"

Here was the clincher, the punchline she had been expecting. Make or break, this was the statement that would do it. "Simple. First, we do it your way. Then we do it my way. Then we compare notes."

She gave me another amused look. "Simple, huh? Why do you always have to oversimplify things?"

"Why do you have to overcomplicate things?"

"Ouch! Point taken, my dear father. So when do we start?"

"How 'bout right now? All you gotta do is instruct me on the best _asana_ in your opinion for this sort of thing. Anything yogistic goes."

"Anything, huh? What about nudity?"

I managed to keep my voice steady. "Nudity? I don't care. Go the length, girl. Whatever you think necessary."

Amy stood up; her eyes had a naughty sparkle in them, her head that tilt I have come to recognize as one that precedes her laying the hook on me. She caught the hem of her shirt and lifted it up towards the height of her hips. "You sure you can handle it, old man?" she teased.

"I am sure I can. In my days, I have seen quite a few knockouts - I don't suppose you have anything new to offer." I said this as baitingly as I dared.

"You are right. Nothing new on this bod - just a couple of tits, a shaved bush. A pierced navel. Yup, just the same old stuff, right Daddy?"

With a single heft, the shirt was thrown off. Amy turned her back on me, and reached behind for the clasp of her bra. Before I knew it, I had offered my assistance. She accepted.

I stood up and walked over to her. The rear view of her body was very very nice - a nice buttock covered by shorts that were too tight to leave anything to imagination, with the slight hint of the panty-line - it was a tan-line, actually - visible at the hem of the shorts. The back of her tanned legs was no more inferior to her front.

Amy dropped her arms to her sides as my hands touched her shoulder. I allowed myself the luxury of moving down her back down to the strap of her bra. A single press, and it clicked open. Amy hunched her shoulders forward and slid the bra off. It fell at her feet.

Amy did not say anything until I had reached the hem of her shorts, and then she moved away, directing me that it was my 'turn' now. I sighed loudly, inducing a giggle from my daughter, and unbuttoned my shirt, throwing it on top of her bra.

Amy wiggled out of her shorts at almost the same instant that I got rid of my damn boxers, and I couldn't help but get distracted by the way her panties were pulled taut into the crack of her beautiful ass. At the proximity that I was in, it wasn't too difficult to make out the outline of her pussy lips against the material. I strained my head forward to see if I could get a better glimpse -

I needn't have bothered, though, for with far greater nonchalance than I thought a girl getting naked in front of her father could assume, she pulled the cotton panties down her legs... then free of her legs. She still hadn't turned around, but had her legs placed further apart now. Her cuntal lips were being paraded for me.

"Finished?" she asked. I hastily pulled down my underwear, and dear old Rocky sprang out as if he had never been erect before in his entire life. It was all I could do not to ram the old fool into her exposed ass.

Amy turned around, and like the old pervert that I was, I allowed myself to gape at her firm structure. None of my fantasies had come even close in defining her nubile body, with those unfairly firm breasts topped with nipples a man in a lesser position would have insulted by calling 'cherries.' The deep valley between the twin mounds pointed down to a shaved patch of blonde pubic hair a couple of days grown, just above the slit that led into her deepest being.

My daughter allowed me around fifteen seconds of ogling time at her body, raising her arms to the back of the head causing her tits to jut out even more. For an instant, I almost let myself go, for so strong was my desire to envelop my mouth over one of her buds.

"... asana." I caught only that last syllable of her sentence.

"Pardon?"

"I said, we could do mrityaasana," my daughter repeated, clearly quite pleased with the way the sight of 'yet another knockout' body was affecting me. "The pose of the dead."

I tore my eyes away from the rest of her body, and managed to meet hers. "What are you, necrophilic?"

She laughed. "No. Mrityaasana is a position of maximum inactivity - physical, that is. You lie flat out like a dead body; then you allow your breathing to recede to deep intakes. Here, let me show you - lie on your back, arms by your sides... and can't you put that thing away?"

I grinned. I suppose I could have passed for a dead body if it had not been for the boner that was pointing straight upwards. Amy had referred to it as the 'thing,' and I replied that I couldn't put it away. Her hand brushed against my erection as she ensured that I was, indeed, in the proper position.

Then she laid down beside me, so close that I could hear her breathing. Our naked bodies were barely an inch away, and suddenly, I was attacked by a desire to take her then and there. Thankfully, though, the pragmatic self took control. Just a little while longer, I told myself.

I waited with my eyes closed until I heard her breathing take a steady rhythm. Convinced that she was in enough of a trance to be dead to the world, I pulled myself up so that I was resting my head on the palm of my hand. I was now sideways, looking from a small elevation at the nude expanse of my daughter.

If there was any difference, it was the state of her arousal. Flushed skin, erect and darker nipples - you make the conclusion. Once again, there was that dryness in my throat, a sudden desire to take her tit into my mouth and suck it dry. To take her nipples and bite them until she begged me to stop. To make her cry so hard and so loud it would be heard in the next county.

Make no mistake about it - this was lust, pure and simple. If there was one thing I wanted to do above all else in the world, it was to have sex with my daughter. Fornicate with the fruits of my seed. Just bang her until her eyes rolled atop her head, until her pussy gets so sore she won't think of sex for a couple of weeks. And yes, I intended to make it so memorable for her she would be addicted to it. To me.

I continued staring at her body for what seemed like an eternity, jumping out of surprise when I heard her speak, eyes still closed, "You keep looking at me like that for one more minute and I am going to throw something on. God! You make me so self-conscious!"

I had thought she was deep in meditation; apparently, she was not. I recovered quickly, though. "The primary goal of Yoga is to let go of self-consciousness and become part of the Universe. If you get so self-conscious just by me looking at you, then you have already failed, my dear daughter!"

She opened her eyes and winked at me. "Oh, so now you are a Guru too?" She shook her head, a gesture of resignation. "Still, you are right. I can't concentrate with you looking - gawking - at me. Guess that accounts as a failure."

"So what say we try my method now?"

She hesitated for only a second before she nodded her approval. A little too enthusiastically, I may add, but I wasn't about to complain.

On to phase three.

"Let me get the ironing table."

"Ironing table? What about the dining table?"

"Nope. Too wide, too big. For a purely sensual massage, I need to have easy access to every point in your body."

"Every point, uh, Daddy? And I suppose the ironing table you mentioned is wide enough for my body..."

"Wide enough," I amended, "For you to let your legs and arms hang over the sides."

Before she could say anything more, I darted into the storeroom and carried the table back. I set it up in the middle of the living room, and then motioned my daughter to come over.

Wordlessly, Amy walked over to me. She placed a quick peck on my cheeks, the action causing my hands to brush against one of her tits. She gave me an embarrassed smile before lying face down on the ironing table, her hands and legs hanging limply off the edges.

I started at her nape, rubbing the skin with my thumbs, using the other fingers as anchor. Less than a minute later, Amy moaned for the first time. "Daddy! That feels so good."

Emboldened by her reaction, I started to move my hands all over back, going dangerously close to the side of her back, where, with just a flick of my fingers, I could have touched the side of her tits. I teased her skin for some more time before I mustered up enough courage to move down the sides. I pressed against the exposed sides of her firm breasts, half-expecting her to sit up in anger.

Her response was another moan. More encouragement.

After around five minutes doing nothing but kneading the sides of her tits - I was really finding it hard to resist the temptation to roll her over and crush the nipples between my fingers - I moved further downwards. This time, there was no hesitation on my part as I allowed my hands free run of her ass, as I pressed and probed the tip of the crack that was her buttock.

Her moans were getting louder now.

As I had done with her nape, I massaged her with my thumb. I didn't think she would protest as I allowed my thumb to move further into her tight ass, and I was definitely more than pleased when Amy pushed her butt slightly upwards, embedding her asshole upon my digit.

"Aren't you using any oil, Daddy?" she asked when I finally withdrew my finger from the hole.

"No oil - it reduces the effect of the massage," I lied.

"Hummm! I won't complain, but it's more like you are groping me. Maybe even a little finger-fucking."

"Glad that you find it sexy now."

"Ohhh! It's sexy, all right! Too sexy. Are you finished with my back?"

"Almost," I said, greedily eyeing her exposed pussy. I could see the glistening wetness of my daughter's cunt, the ever-damning evidence of her arousal. "Just one more point."

Even before I had finished speaking, I inserted my pinky into her cunt. Amy jumped.

"Ooohhhhh!" was her only protest.

Now I am not a tease - and like I said, I wanted to fuck her. Fuck my daughter. Her defenses were down, and I was not going to be above taking advantage of her. Not when she had her body so brazenly displayed before me, one of my fingers embedded in her dripping pussy. I allowed a second finger inside her cunt.

This hole was tight! Or was it that she was having an orgasm already? A couple of seconds, a large quantity of the pungent-smelling liquid of her sex leaked out of her pussy, proving that she had indeed had her first orgasm from me. The vaginal lips parted slightly, and I made full use of that moment - two more fingers rammed into her pussy.

Amy became more vocal of her status. "That feels terribly wonderful - hummmm, Daddy! Fuck me! Fuck me hard. Finger-fuck me! Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

I ask you - if you were in my shoes and your nineteen year old daughter asks you to fuck her for all either of you are worth, would you refuse?

I obliged Amy.

I started to slide my fingers in and out of her mimicking the motion of a cock, while my other hand had found its way into her asshole. The dual assault on both her holes caused her to explode even earlier this time. She sure made a mess on the table, but neither of us noticed it until later. When she subsided, I caught her waist and pulled her up.

Our eyes met - hers lustful and groggy, mine lustful and sharp. I wasn't about to fuck her yet, though - there were other avenues to explore.

She let her body go limp as I placed her on her back on the ironing table, making it a point to have her attention while I licked my fingers clean of her juices. She smiled at my gesture, and pointed to the wet entrance between her legs again.

I looked pointedly at her heaving breasts. "I have to do your front now," I teased.

The sultry daughter of mine smacked her lips suggestively, then caught my right hand and guided it down her stomach, towards her pubic paradise. "Well, I don't see your mouth doing anything else," she pouted.

I nodded. Things were going exactly - in fact, even better - than I had planned. I had prepared contingencies, but it looked like I wouldn't be needing them. My daughter was not only going along with me, the little minx was leading me. Guiding me to places where no father should go *in* his daughter.

Her skin felt hot against my mouth as I covered one of her magnificent tits, taking the nipple as far in as I could without puking. As if it had been the most natural thing to do, my right hand had found its way into her again, and the left hand, with a mind of its own, made love to her other breast.

With a hand inside her pussy, another pinching her nipple, and her father's teeth clamped on the other bud, it was a wonder that Amy lasted for the period that she did before she orgasmed once again. This time, the secretion was more than the previous ones, and lasted for a longer time.

I waited until she had finished, then pulled my cum-drenched palm out and rubbed it all over her cleavage and breasts. Then I attacked the tits with renewed vigor, my licking and nibbling so intense that Amy started to cry out for me to stop. But I knew that was the last thing she wanted - hell, I wouldn't have stopped even if my wife had barged in on us at that moment.

When I pulled my face up after more than ten minutes of feasting on her chest, Amy immediately reached up and threw her arms around me. Our lips met, and I figured she was as excited to taste me as she was to taste herself on me. There was no gentleness lost as we shamelessly ground our mouths against each other, passion overruling propriety. When we finished kissing, her gums bled from the hard kiss we had shared. Mine bled too.

"Fuck me, Daddy!" my daughter all but shouted at my face. "Fuck me with your cock! Fill me with your sperm, Daddy! Give it to me, dammit. Fuck your daughter silly."

I positioned myself between her legs and threw them over my shoulder. The lower part of her torso hung in midair over the edge of the ironing table, her hole all set to welcome me into my daughter's hot body. My cock was all primed for the nuclear assault, and with a single cry of 'Geronimo!' I took my daughter.

I had never fucked anyone as furiously as I did my daughter. The look on her face alternated between lust-pain and lust-lust, as I slammed and ebbed inside her. Quite a few times, I sunk myself to the hilt inside her, the skin of her womb scratching against my hard-on - I was so deep inside her that even my pubic hair was sucked in.

Suddenly remembering that she wasn't on the pill, I started to pull out. Somehow, Amy understood what I was about to do. She quickly slid her legs off my shoulders and wrapped them around my waist, tightly locking me inside her. "Oh no, you don't," she moaned through clenched teeth. "I want you to cum inside me... fill me up, Daddy! I'm all yours."

I groaned loudly as I felt the last vestiges of control slip away - I shot my entire load inside her, the tight fit of my cock in her entrance acting like a corkscrew, keeping my potent stuff inside her fertile pussy. Things became clearer in an instant - I realized with a start that if this time didn't do it, I would knock her up the next time.

The ultimate taboo - our child, born of lust and incest!

I collapsed at the foot of the table, and my daughter slid down with me, settling atop me with my cock still impaling her femininity. Only a little of the white stuff had managed to ooze out; as I drifted into a small nap, I imagined that the rest of the little tadpoles were doing their work already.

I woke up to the sensation of being sucked dry, and looking down at my crotch, I was happy to see that I hadn't been wrong. Amy had her mouth around my cock, probably some resuscitation to get it back up again, and I thanked her by engorging inside her mouth. I expected her to keep sucking until I came, but she just grinned at me before sitting down on my hard-on. Once again, I felt the confines of her pussy.

"Do you remember that you are not on the pill, my horny little bitch?" I asked, patting her straddling legs to convey that I wasn't insulting her - it was just a term of lustful endearment.

"I know, but since you've already shot off an enormous load inside me, I don't think this will be of much consequence. If I am to catch, I am sure I would have caught already."

"Are you sure you want your dear daddy's baby, honey?"

"Let me put it succinctly - yes, I want to have my father's kids. Plural. And you know I never waste time when I am doing something important. Now shut up and fuck me, Daddy-of-mine! You've got plenty of lost time to make up for. Damn! I should have taken up yoga last summer!"

I laughed as she started to ride me like a woman possessed.

Hours later, after two more sessions, we were still in the living-room, the carpet a mess of our unholy coupling. It was around five in the evening, and although my daughter had complained that she was too tired for another 'go' with her old man, she didn't protest when I started to play with her pussy again.

"Gosh, Daddy! You make me so hot!!!" she whispered to me in a husky voice.

"Baby. Did you really want me to cum inside you?"

She looked at me sheepishly. "Not exactly, but once I felt you inside me, I didn't want to let you pull out. Then I figured it wouldn't be so bad after all. I mean, there are worse choices I could make for a father for my child. Besides, you may have saved me a trip to the drugstore for at least a year."

"Well, you will have to thank me for all the assistance I provided."

"Oh, I will. I definitely will. You can bet my ass on that."

"Your ass, eh? Remind me to come in through the back door one day, all right?"

She ruffled my hair. "Sure, lover boy, but you have to make good use of the sperm bank you have between your legs."

"Agreed. It will be my pleasure - "

"I bet."

"Speaking of bets, didn't I win this one?"

"You did, father of mine. You certainly did. My pussy still feels as if it has been sandpapered."

"Funny thing, though," came a voice from the doorway. Amy and I froze, our naked bodies pressed together. It was my wife, Emma. "That's exactly what my pussy feels like every time he fucks me too!"

"Mom!"

"Emma!"

"John! Amy!" my wife mimicked our startled cries. "I don't suppose you have a good explanation for this... and what the hell is the ironing table doing in the middle of our living room? And why in the Devil's name is my mother's crystal jar lying shattered?"

Amy started to get up, but Emma asked her to stay. "Hold it right there, young lady. You have some explaining to do on other matters too. Like, for example, why you just had unprotected sex with your own father at the most unsafe time of the month?"

It felt more than a little awkward trying to explain things to my wife, given that I was down on the floor with my naked daughter on top, and my cock still conjoined with her cunt, but between the two of us, Amy and I managed to tell the whole story. I let out the part about me planning the whole thing, but I guess both women saw through my plan.

"And you mean to tell me that it never occurred to you to masturbate?" my wife asked when we had finished.

The sheepish look that passed between my daughter and I were enough of an answer.

"Well," my wife sighed theatrically. "Since you two have already crossed all the points of retrospect, I don't think asking you to stop would be of any practical use. And I don't even want to think about a pregnancy." Another sigh. "I guess the only remaining option is to ground the two of you. For a couple of weeks. Although I doubt either of you want to appeal that decision."

Amy shook her head. I followed suit.

Emma grinned at us. "Good. I might have a tour coming up this weekend, so I hope I don't have to come rushing to the police station just because you two couldn't keep your hands off each other even on the road... yeesh! Look at the mess you two have made. Dirty."

I could see the blush spreading across Amy's face at her mother's observation. My cock rose; I wanted to take her again. My wife noticed the hard-on and laughed at us. "Go take a shower, you two. You certainly need it."

"What a wonderful idea!" I concurred, and right in front of my wife, I picked up our naked daughter and carried her up the stairs. I heard my wife call out from downstairs, "And next time, use the bedroom!"

We almost missed dinner that night.

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