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Message-ID: <50798asstr$1111745405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Frank Braun <mazares@hotmail.com>
User-Agent: Xnews/5.04.25
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 24 Mar 2005 20:35:21 EST
Subject: {ASSM} RP: LIFE WITH MY WIFE AND DAUGHTERS - Part II
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Date: Fri, 25 Mar 2005 05:10:05 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Copyright (C) 2002 by Frank Braun

mazares@hotmail.com

Emailed comments are welcome.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


LIFE WITH MY WIFE AND DAUGHTERS - Part II

After an unusually stressful week at work, it was finally Saturday, and I 
was determined to do nothing at all but rest. My wife, Sarah, and our 
oldest daughter, Rebecca, 15, had left early to go shopping, leaving me 
and our 11-year-old, Rachel, to sleep in.

I had risen earlier and showered and shaved, but returned to the bed to 
just sit up against a pile of pillows and immerse myself in a book -- 
some mindless piece of fiction I'd bought a few days before, hoping I'd 
find a chance to get lost in it.

And lost in it I was -- forgot the whole world existed -- when I heard a 
tiny voice at the bedroom door. It was Rachel. She had cracked the door 
open, and about all I could see was her face peering politely in as she 
said, "Daddy, I need a favor."

"Come in, sweetheart," I said. "What's up?"

"Can I borrow your bathtub?" she asked, opening the door and stepping 
into the room. She wore her usual sleepwear of a t-shirt and panties, and 
her long, wavy, near-black hair -- so much like her mother's -- was 
tousled by sleep, adding a kind of wildness to her beautiful, milky-white 
face. 

"Sure, baby," I said. "But what happened to yours?"

"Becca made a great big mess of the whole bathroom, and I don't feel like 
cleaning it up," she said.

"Let her clean up her own mess, huh?" I said. "Just don't make a mess of 
mine, ok?"

"Ok," she said. "And one more favor?"

"What, sweetheart?"

"Can I have one of your t-shirts?"

"Out of clothes, too?" I asked.

"Yes."

I started to get up and accommodate her -- then remembered I was naked 
beneath the bedsheet that covered me from the waist down.

"Top drawer on the left," I said, nodding toward the dresser.

"Thanks, Daddy," she said, pulling a folded t-shirt from the drawer and 
disappearing into the bathroom.

As the door closed behind her, my mind wandered back involuntarily to the 
night, earlier in the week, in which she and I had found ourselves curled 
up together on the couch in front of the TV, unable to sleep. I still had 
mixed emotions over that moment. Holding my daughter close in my arms, I 
had developed a hard-on and even come in my shorts, excited against my 
will by the beautiful child in my lap.

Something in me -- call it the effect of centuries of Christian 
civilization? -- told me I had been wrong, that I should be ashamed of 
myself. But other things in me -- my intuitive sense that my physical and 
emotional instincts, no matter how primal, should be trusted, among other 
things -- told me that I should remain open to this new sensation 
involving my daughter. 

And in defense of that latter, my own wife -- my daughter's own mother -- 
had been amazingly unconcerned about the incident when I related it to 
her!

My thoughts on the matter swirled around lazily in my mind for a while, 
then I turned back to the book I was reading, and to the escape it 
provided. By the time Rachel emerged from the bathroom, so much time had 
elapsed that I had forgotten she was there.

She stood at the foot of the bed, wrapped in a white terry towel. Her 
hair -- a tangled mess when I saw it last -- was now perfectly coiffed, 
and she had a sweet smile on her full, pouty lips.

"Can we talk, Daddy?" she said.

"Sure sweetheart," I said, setting the book aside. "What about?"

She didn't speak. Instead, she crawled up on the bed and rolled herself 
into position in my lap, her back pressed against my chest, her head 
resting back on my shoulder.

She turned her sweet face up toward mine, smiled a mischievous, girlish 
smile, and said "Nothing!"

I gave her a squeeze, my arms wrapped around her. Her big, expressive 
dark eyes, just like her mother's, were irresistible.

"Mmmm," she purred, still smiling. "That's what I really wanted."

I smiled too. And, not really knowing what else to do, I just held her 
close and rocked her gently from side to side. I loved her, and felt it 
like a warm glow all over me in that moment.

"Daddy?" she said, breaking the silence.

"Yes, baby."

"Would you kiss my neck again like you did the other night? It felt 
good."

"Yes it did, didn't it?" I said. But I was worried. Where was this going? 
And at just 11 years old, should this child be initiating this kind of 
contact with anybody, let alone her own father?

My hand shaking a little, I pulled back her thick hair to expose her 
creamy white neck, and kissed it gently -- from just below her ear, then 
a little lower, and lower, to her shoulder, and then back up again... 
freshly bathed, so smooth and nice, it all felt too good...

She purred contentedly as my tongue and warm breath moved up and down her 
neck, and she stretched out her arms and arched her back in response. But 
with that amount of movement, her towel, only loosely gathered at the 
front, came undone and fell open, exposing her body down to her waist.

If she noticed, she didn't care -- I stopped in my motions at that 
moment, but she said, "Don't stop, Daddy. You feel so good!"

Her back still to me, I pressed my lips against the back of her neck, 
across her little shoulders, and partway down her back. With each of my 
kisses came a sweet "Mmmm" from my baby girl -- and with each of those, 
God help me, came a new stirring in my cock, which was starting 
uncontrollably to harden.

Once again, I was terrified, and my heart pounded furiously. But my 
movements began to pay less and less attention to my fears, and more and 
more to my daughter's own, innocent desire to be pleasured.

No longer frozen by fear in my sitting position, I stretched out, rolled 
my baby girl gently off my lap and onto the bed beside me, and threw back 
the sheet to get it out of the way.

Her towel fell free completely, but I could not yet bring myself to look 
at her nudity. Instead, as she lay there, smiling, on her back, I laid 
beside her, propped up on an elbow, gazing deeply into her eyes.

"I love you, Daddy," she said, her own dark eyes reflecting my gaze.

"I love you too, sweet girl," I answered. My cock was rock-hard now, my 
heart beating with excitement. I wanted her, yet was afraid to touch her.

"Kiss me Daddy," she said. "Please?"

"Oh I want to, sweetheart," I said, "How I want to! But I'm not really 
sure we should."

"I see you kiss Mommy all the time," she said, plaintively. "And you love 
me too, don't you? Doesn't that mean you can kiss me too?"

There was no point evaluating logic. She had convinced me -- even without 
words. The look in her eyes had been enough. I bent toward her, gently 
touching the tip of my tongue, then my whole mouth, to her full, pouty 
lips.

She was of course no experienced kisser; but her mouth soon learned how 
to follow the movements of my own, and in a few seconds she was 
responding eagerly, even darting her own tongue about in response to the 
motions of mine.

It was too much. Still not yet wanting to look, I let my left hand move 
down her side as we kissed, feeling her smooth skin all the way down to 
her hips, where I slid my hand beneath them and gently squeezed at my 
daughter's tiny buttocks.

She purred audibly, lifted her hips as I squeezed, and kissed me ever 
more deeply. She was learning...

Still afraid to go further, I drew back, and looked once more into her 
face. She showed no fear, only contentment. She smiled sweetly into my 
eyes.

"Don't stop touching me, Daddy," she said. "You feel good."

"And you feel good, too, sweetheart," I said. And finally, as I laid 
there propped on one arm, I let my gaze wander down the length of her 
nakedness. My heart rate quickened as I saw that my daughter's breasts 
were just beginning to develop -- and that a tiny, beautiful wisp of jet-
black hair was sprouting at the top of her as yet untouched pubic mound. 
"You're a beautiful girl," I mumbled on, my eyes returning to meet hers.

She raised up, placed an arm around my neck, and pushed me gently 
backward, rolling me onto my back -- then rolled herself on top of me, 
stared intensely into my eyes, and plunged her little tongue deep into my 
mouth with what was quickly becoming her skill at kissing.

Suddenly, as we moved together in our embrace, the head of my throbbing 
cock accidentally poked at her little pussy, and she reacted with a 
delighted squeal.

"Oooh! Daddy has a rock again!" She rolled off me to sit up and stare at 
my raging hard-on. She was silent, just looking at what she had never 
seen before. I was uncomfortable, even embarrassed. It was rock-hard, 
desperately in need of relief -- but what could I do? My baby girl 
finally turned her head to look back into my eyes, her expression 
terribly serious.

"Can I touch it, Daddy?"

I couldn't speak. After a moment, I just nodded my head and shut my eyes. 
I quivered as I felt my daughter's soft little hand pat gently at my 
nine-inch erection -- her movements were tentative, curious, as though 
she were afraid of hurting it. I continued to keep my eyes closed as she 
gradually lost her timidity about it, getting bolder in her exploration 
of my member. She squeezed it, pulled on it, stroked it, as though trying 
to figure out what one was supposed to do with it.

I opened my eyes. My daughter's expression was serious as she looked down 
at her tiny hands wrapped around my long pole, and involuntarily, my hips 
lurched for a moment into a fucking motion, thrusting my cock up and down 
between her hands. I couldn't stand it -- I was going to come just from 
watching the beauty of her innocent explorations.

So, gently, I slid my cock out of her hands' embrace, and laid her back 
down beside me. That sweet smile came back to her face as I stroked her 
hair and her cheeks with my shaking hand; and again, I was filled with 
that burning glow of love for her.

I kissed her deeply as my left arm reached through her legs to grasp her 
buttocks, my wrist rubbing gently on her nearly hairless slit. My tongue 
moved down to kiss and bathe her neck, then the space between her tiny 
breasts, then on down to her navel.

Her breath came in audible sighs as I finally moved down to the space 
between her legs. I hesitated, staring at the tiny tuft of black hair at 
the top of her slit. My own little daughter's pussy. Rachel groaned as my 
hot breath warmed it, and she raised up, seemingly involuntarily, 
pressing it toward my mouth.

"Kiss me there, Daddy," she pleaded, "Please!"

Let me burn in hell, I thought, but I cannot resist this! I extended my 
tongue and touched its tip to the very top of my daughter's little slit. 
She gasped and bucked in response, and I dove in, gently at first, then 
uncontrollably, licking and plunging at it with a tongue gone mad.

Rachel's hips bucked and lurched in response to each of my movements, and 
she whined and whimpered breathlessly, sounding as though she was torn 
between surprise, shock, and pleasure at this new sensation.

Suddenly, her thighs locked themselves around my head, sweet juices began 
to flood my face, and her voice because a tiny close-mouthed scream that 
she tried to repress -- then there was an ear-splitting "Ooohhh!" 
accompanied by such a squeeze from her little thighs that I thought my 
head would be crushed.

So she remained for a few seconds -- noiseless, her vice-like grip on my 
head unmoved -- then she dropped limp and motionless flat on the bed. She 
had apparently experienced her first orgasm; I didn't know enough to know 
whether 11-year-old girls were supposed to have orgasms or not.

I looked at my cock. It was oozing with pre-cum. I moved up to again look 
into my daughter's face. Her mouth was open with a look of surprise.

"Oh, Daddy," she whispered. "Oh, Daddy. What did you do?" I didn't know 
what to say.

"I just did what people do who love each other," I said, finally. Some 
moments passed, and Rachel's breathing slowed gradually down to its 
normal pace -- while my cock, still unrelieved, twitched with the near-
pain of its throbbing erection. My daughter finally spoke, in a whisper.

"Do you want me to lick you there, too, Daddy?"

My heart took another life-threatening leap in response to her innocent 
offer.

"Yes, baby," I said, my voice hoarse. "I'd like that very much." I laid 
back, no longer able to hear the warnings rising in the back of my mind.

My daughter moved down and gently took my cock in her hand, and it was 
all I could do not to come right then as I watched her touch the tip of 
her tongue to its swollen head. It twitched uncontrollably as she 
cautiously licked all around it, then down the sides of my shaft, then 
back up to the head again.

Not wanting to speak, I just pressed the head of it up against her lips 
-- and, as I'd hoped, she parted her lips and let me push it gently in. 
Only the head and a little more went in, and I pulled slowly out, then 
back in again, until she realized she could mimic the motion herself.

I was insane with desire as I watched my sweet child bob her head up and 
down over the end of my cock; it was all I could do not to thrust too 
hard and choke her; it was when, while she sucked, she looked up to rest 
her huge, innocent eyes on mine that I lost it.

My penis exploded. Huge spurts of cum erupted, Rachel jerked back her 
face, startled, cum dripping from her lips, and my cock just kept 
shooting loads of it everywhere as I fucked crazily at the tiny hands 
that still gripped my shaft as though for dear life.

It seemed a wildly pleasurable eternity before my hips quit thrusting 
uncontrollably; and when it all came to rest, I still lay flat on my 
back, my daughter beside me in my arm, her face looking into mine, her 
hand still loosely clasping my spent penis. The last thing I remembered 
before falling asleep was the sweet smile on her lips and her hoarse, 
whispered, "I love you, Daddy."

How much later was it? We were still in that position when we awoke to 
the sound of Sarah, Rachel's mother, coming into the room, home from 
shopping.

"What in the hell is this?" Her voice was not particularly angry, 
certainly not loud -- just firm.

Oh shit, I thought. Oh shit. I had no idea what might happen next. And 
there was absolutely nothing I could say. Rachel rolled sleepily out of 
my embrace to sit up beside me on my right; I propped myself up on my 
elbows.

For a long time, Sarah said nothing. She sat down on the bed at my left, 
and -- as though absentmindedly -- began fingering my flaccid penis, 
looking like she was trying to find something to say.

Finally, she looked at Rachel and spoke.

"Are you ok, baby girl?"

"Yes, Mommy," Rachel said.

"Did Daddy hurt you?"

"Oh, no, Mommy," she said.

"What have you and Daddy been doing?"

"Sarah -- " I interruped.

"You stay out of this," Sarah said, again quietly but firmly. "What," she 
repeated, "have you and Daddy been doing?"

"I don't know," said Rachel. "Just things. Things that feel good."

Sarah pondered for a while. She was still fiddling with my cock, 
apparently unaware she was doing it; meantime, Rachel was watching the 
motions of her mother's hand.

"Did Daddy kiss you?" Sarah said at last.

"Yes, Mommy."

"And you kissed him back?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Sarah looked into Rachel's crotch. "Did Daddy put anything inside you 
there?" she said.

"No, Mommy," said Rachel. "I mean yes. He put his tongue there. Am I in 
trouble, Mommy?"

"No, dear," said Sarah. "Did it feel good when Daddy put his tongue 
there?"

Rachel smiled slightly at the question, and my cock twitched in my wife's 
hand.

"Yes, Mommy. It felt really good."

Sarah seemed to remember that her hand was on my penis. She looked at it. 
Then she looked back at Rachel.

"Did you play with this?"

"Yes, Mommy."

Sarah began to pull and stroke at my cock, and, despite my terror in the 
situation, it began to harden.

"Like this?" Sarah went on.

"Yes, Mommy."

"Did you do anything else with it?"

"Sarah, please!" I said. Rachel looked at me inquisitively -- did she not 
understand why I was upset? -- then answered her mother.

"Yes, Mommy. I licked it, too."

"Show me," said Sarah.

"Oh shit!" I said. "Come on!"

Rachel looked at me again. God help me, I was hard again; and Sarah, 
unconsciously squeezing almost painfully on my cock, fell silent -- just 
staring deeply into her daughter's eyes, her full lips parted, her breath 
coming unevenly. I wondered seriously whether she was getting off on this 
in some way... Finally she spoke, her voice trembling.

"Sweetheart," she said, "why don't you let me and Daddy be alone for a 
while now, ok?"

Rachel -- rather naturally, I thought -- seemed confused by her mother's 
behavior. What did Mommy want? Was she angry? Was she not angry? Our 
daughter got off the bed and started for the door.

"Rachel," Sarah said. Rachel stopped and turned back to face her mother. 
"Don't you want to put on your clothes first?"

Wordlessly, Rachel went into the bathroom for a moment, then emerged 
wearing the t-shirt she'd borrowed from me earlier, and went again to the 
door to leave -- but stopped and turned before leaving.

"I love you, Daddy," she said, her eyes big and deep with emotion.

"I love you too, sweetheart," I said, attempting a smile.

Rachel left the room, and Sarah rose from the bed to stand at the foot of 
it. There, she removed her shoes, jeans, and panties. Then she stepped 
backward to lean against the dresser, her legs spread, her hand massaging 
her thick, black bush. She HAD been getting off with the whole scene...

"You," she said, looking at me with something close to anger, but not 
seemingly quite anger -- and still diddling herself as she spoke. "You 
are a miserable, cock-sucking child molester." Her voice trembled, and 
her hips shook, with the last two words. I didn't dare to say anything. 
She went on.

"And you..." She trembled still further, now seemingly near tears. "And 
you're going to fuck our baby girl and you're going to forget I exist, 
and you'll start fucking our other baby, and you, you..."

"Stop it, Sarah," I said, "you're losing it. I love you. What happened 
with Rachel was an accident. Nobody planned it. I'll always love you, and 
you know it."

Sarah continued sobbing -- yet continued digging at her pussy all the 
while, gyrating her hips, apparently somehow getting off in some weird 
way with this whole scenario. She hastily pulled off her sweater, shook 
out her thick, black hair, and removed her bra, letting her beautiful, 
pendulous breasts hang free.

A couple minutes more of just standing there, masturbating and crying at 
once -- then she got on the bed, straddled me, and lowered herself over 
my still-throbbing cock.

"Please fuck ME!" she cried. "Please fuck your big girl! She wants Daddy 
too!" With that, she used a hand to press the head of my cock against her 
dripping wet cunt lips, then slid herself down on it. In minutes, she was 
riding it like a demented fiend, her wild black hair and huge breasts 
flying in all directions.

I was approaching orgasm as I turned my head to the right just in time to 
see that Rachel had silently reappeared at the door. Her eyes were wide 
open, and her hand covered her mouth, as she watched what she hadn't 
expected to see.

Sarah, unaware, rode hard, still sobbing, but noisily approaching orgasm 
herself; Rachel stood motionless, apparently too captivated to move, her 
hand still covering her mouth; and I came.

Bucking upward, hard against my wife's downward thrusts, I stared, 
entranced, into Rachel's wide-eyed face as I shot load after load into 
her screaming mother's womb.

As it all finally came to rest, Sarah collapsed on top of me, but I 
continued to look at Rachel. We stared wordlessly into each other's eyes 
for what seemed an eternity before, at last, Rachel turned -- seemingly 
reluctantly -- and left.

The look in her eyes and the uncommon desire -- call it lust, I suppose? 
lust for my own daughter? -- that I continued to feel for her, would 
remain in the back of my mind, and would trouble me deeply, for days to 
come...

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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