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NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 09 Jan 2007 14:12:21 -0600
From: Nick Scipio <nick@nickscipio.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} "Breakdown" by Nick Scipio - Part 3 (MF, oral, inc)
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Date: Tue, 09 Jan 2007 17:10:04 -0500
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Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Author: Nick Scipio
Title: Breakdown
Part: Part 3
Universe: Hank Adair
Summary: Henry Adair is a successful businessman with an
unsuccessful life. That changes when he picks up his
daughter at college.
Keywords: MF, oral, inc
Revision: 1.0
Word Count: 6,173
Web Site: http://www.nickscipio.com/
FTP Site: ftp://ftp.nickscipio.com/
Discussion Forum: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Scipio_Forum/

*****************************************************************
                        STANDARD DISCLAIMER

This story is intended as ADULT entertainment. It contains
material of an adult, explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are
offended by sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT
read any further.

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and events
portrayed in it are fictional, and any resemblance to real people
or incidents is purely coincidental. The author does not
necessarily condone or endorse any of the activities described.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without
the written permission of the author. It may be freely
distributed with this disclaimer attached.

Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

*****************************************************************

Breakdown
by Nick Scipio

PART III

Henry gripped the steering wheel and thought--for the hundredth
time--about what he wanted to say.

"Aly...," he said at last.

She sent her text message, snapped her phone shut, and looked at
him expectantly.

"Aly," he began again, "we need to talk."

"Oh," she mocked, "this sounds serious."

"It is."

"It's about this morning, isn't it?" He started to respond, but
she cut him off. "Why are you so uptight about it, Dad? We're
both consenting adults."

"It's still wrong," he said.

"Why?"

"It just _is_."

"But _why?_ Why is it 'wrong' to have sex with someone who loves
you?"

"Because you're my daughter, that's why."

"So?"

"It's incest, Alyson. And it's wrong."

"Interracial marriage used to be 'wrong,'" she said. "In the
_Fifties_."

"This is different."

"How?"

"It just is," he said stubbornly.

"That's the best you can come up with?" she said. "'It just is'?"
She huffed. "C'mon, Dad, you're smarter than that."

He didn't rise to her baiting.

"It's only 'wrong' if you say it is. But what's wrong about it?"

He didn't have a good answer, so he kept his mouth shut.

"In the first place, you can't get me pregnant, so we don't have
to worry about birth defects."

"That's not the only thing to worry about," he said obstinately.
She wasn't going to win the argument simply because he'd had a
vasectomy.

She ignored his objection. "In the second place," she continued,
"I'm totally legal, so you don't have to worry about statutory
rape. In the third place, you're not taking advantage of me. I'm
a grown woman. I can decide for myself who I want to sleep with.
And finally, I wasn't planning to tell the whole world about our
private lives. So we don't have to worry about some Republican DA
trying to have us arrested."

"It's still wrong," he said.

"Why, Dad? Tell me why."

"It just is."

"So we're back to _that_ again?" she said. "Didn't you teach me
to think for myself? To 'use the brain God gave me'?" Her
implication was obvious.

"This is different," he said. "I _have_ thought about it, and
it's wrong."

"So you've thought about us?"

He quickly backpedaled: "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it, Dad?" She looked at him for a moment
and then set her jaw defiantly. "Okay, I'll drop the whole thing...
on one condition."

"What?" he asked warily.

"Can you honestly tell me that you don't wanna have sex with me?"

He looked at her and thought about lying. It _would_ be a lie,
too. He'd spent the last hundred miles daydreaming about her.

She let the silence drag out.

"It's wrong, Alyson," he said at last.

She must have sensed his crumbling resolve, because she unbuckled
her seatbelt and leaned close. After a moment to let the tension
mount, she put her hand on his thigh.

The contact sent a jolt of excitement through him, and his penis
stirred. "Alyson," he said hoarsely, "we can't _ever_ repeat what
we did last night."

"Yes, we can."

He was acutely aware of her presence--the heat of her body, the
swell of her breasts, and a dozen other things that made every
fiber of his being cry out to agree.

"We can do that and more," she said. "I want to do everything
with you."

Against his will, he darted a glance at her.

"Yes, everything," she said. "I want to suck you. I want you to
eat me. I want to feel your cock inside me. I want to feel you
come inside me."

"Aly," he croaked, "do you have to use language like that?"

"Would it sound better if I used the proper words?" she asked.
Then she smirked. "I want to fellate you. I want you to perform
cunnilingus on me. I want to feel your penis inside me. I want to
feel you ejaculate in my vagina. Is that what you want to hear,
Dad?"

He swallowed hard.

"I'll say it however you like," she said. "I'll say whatever you
want, as long as you fuck me." She mocked him with a look.
"Excuse me, as long as you have intercourse with me."

He glared.

"Hey, you wanted me to stop using 'language like that.'"

After a long pause, he said, "Aly, we can't..."

"Yes, we can," she whispered. "We can do it as often as we like."
Her fingers slid up his leg and she brushed his trapped erection.

He wanted to pull her hand away, but he couldn't. It felt so
good, so warm, so... right. He blinked in shock at the last thought
and tried to clear his muddled brain. _Fathers do_ not _think of
their daughters that way,_ he told himself sternly. Then he
answered himself, _But what if my daughter...?_ He glanced at her.

"I want you," she said, her voice husky with desire. "Can you
pull over at the next exit?"

Emotions warred within him. He felt guilty for even considering
the suggestion, but he also felt a thrill of excitement. Her
arguments had begun to make sense. She couldn't get pregnant, and
she _was_ a grown woman, able to make decisions for herself.
Incest was probably illegal, but he had plenty of experience
skirting the technicalities of the law. Besides, they weren't
likely to _tell_ anyone what they'd done.

Still, he felt a moment of guilt at the thought of having sex
with his own daughter. He told himself that he was being
irrational. He _wanted_ to have sex with her, and she'd made some
persuasive arguments. What could it hurt?

He made his decision.

When Aly saw his expression change, she made a sound of triumph.
With practiced ease, she unfastened his chinos and extracted his
hard-on. She stroked him gently. Her hand was warm and soft. With
her free hand, she managed to pull off her panties. The scent of
her arousal filled the truck's cab, and Henry's mouth began to
water.

The next exit was a rest area, and Henry sped toward the truck
and RV parking lot. The far corner was empty. Aly had her head in
his lap before he even turned off the engine. He closed his eyes
and swallowed hard. He wanted to fuck her, but he didn't want to
do it in a truck cab. Aly seemed to have the same thought,
because she didn't make a move to change positions. Instead, she
played with her pussy while she sucked him.

She came before he did. He felt her tense up, and she groaned
around his dick. Afterward, her nostrils bathed his shaft with
cool air as she panted. When she caught her breath, she began
sucking again.

He didn't last long. When she felt him swell in her mouth, she
began stroking him. He clamped his eyes shut as the first spurt
shot like a geyser from his shaft. She moaned and kept pumping.
He spurted again and saw spots behind his closed eyes.

He eventually came to his senses and looked around, to make sure
no one had seen them. The parking lot was just as it had been
before. He stroked Aly's hair as he caught his breath.

She sucked him until he grew too soft. Then she sat up and wiped
the corners of her mouth. She grinned. Her face was flushed and
her hair had come undone, but she looked beautiful. She closed
her eyes and moistened her lips, tasting him.

"Mmm," she breathed. "I like it when you come in my mouth." She
opened her eyes, and they flashed with an intensity that almost
scared him. "I can't wait to feel you come inside me."

He forced a smile and tried to suppress a wave of guilt. He
wasn't successful, but the thought of fucking her was enough to
run roughshod over any objections he might have left.

-----

Henry turned into his driveway and pulled around the circle. He
stretched the kinks from his muscles as he walked to the front
door. Inside, the housekeeper emerged at the sound of the
security system beep. She pulled up short when she saw him. Then
she smiled, friendly but deferential. When she looked past him,
her smile turned into genuine affection.

"Oh, Miss Aly, you home!"

"It's good to be home, Marisela," Aly said as they hugged.

Marisela clucked and eyed the girl critically. "You still so
thin. They no feed you in Virginia?"

"Of course they do, Marisela, but I want to look good for men."

"Men? Is that why you no eat? Miss Aly, men no want skin and
bones..."

Henry left the two women talking and headed toward his office
suite. The majority of the house was Leanne's to decorate (and
redecorate) as she saw fit, but the west wing was his private
domain. It had been designed as a music studio--the idiot movie
star had delusions of being a rock star, too--but Henry had it
gutted when he bought the place.

He'd kept the studio's original soundproofing, but little else.
Rich wood paneling and thick Persian carpets replaced the garish
colors and cheesy shag carpeting. Leather couches and chairs
supplanted the Seventies furniture. And the sound equipment was
in a _real_ recording studio in the Valley.

Now, the suite was wired with everything a modern executive
needed, from phones to broadband to satellite TV. It also had the
sophisticated security system, of course, with its cabinet of
monitors and digital video recorders. It even had a full bath and
kitchenette. Last but not least, it had a small bedroom, where
Henry could spend the night when he worked late.

The suite had only one entrance, through the media room. Henry
usually left the door open when he was working at home, but he
kept it locked the rest of the time. Marisela had her own entry
code, but she only entered to clean. Leanne _didn't_ have a code,
and Henry had made it clear to Marisela that he'd fire her if she
ever gave her code to Leanne.

At the thought, Henry grinned. Marisela didn't _like_ Leanne--the
housekeeper knew about Leanne's affairs--so he wasn't worried
about the code. Leanne had wanted to fire Marisela at least a
dozen times over the past years, but Henry had put his foot down.
It was _his_ house, and _he_ paid the bills. Leanne had gotten
used to the situation, but she still resented it. Henry didn't
care anymore. Good housekeepers were hard to find, especially
loyal ones, so Marisela would always have a job with Henry.

He punched his code into the keypad and entered the office suite.
He checked his computer and then opened the security system
cabinet. Aly and Marisela were still talking in the foyer. He
watched them for a moment and then smiled. Aly had her mother's
beauty, but nothing of her personality, thank God.

For a moment he wondered if he would've been as attracted to Aly
if she were more like Leanne or Kacy. Somehow, he doubted it.
He'd learned a lot since the pure lust of his early marriage.
Leanne might be sexy and attractive--both then and now--but she
was also a scheming, manipulative, unfaithful, shallow...

He balled his fists and willed himself to relax. Aly was none of
those things. She might _look_ like Leanne, but the similarities
ended there. He watched Aly for a moment longer. His eyes were
drawn to her breasts, braless under her tight T-shirt. She _was_
too thin, but if she filled out like Leanne had... He smiled and
shook off a fantasy.

Aly and Marisela were still talking when he returned to the
foyer.

"Are we ready to unload?" he prompted.

"Sure," Aly said.

"You want dinner for when you done, Mr. Henry?" Marisela asked.

"Please. How about your famous pork empanadas?"

She frowned.

Aly gave him a hard look. "And what about your cholesterol?"

Marisela said, "I try to take good care of him, Miss Aly, but..."
She shrugged helplessly.

"I thought we were on vacation?" Henry protested.

Aly's eyes flashed, and she smirked. "All right. Since tonight is
special..."

He felt his face flush. Fortunately, Marisela couldn't know what
Aly _really_ meant.

"Okay, Mr. Henry," the housekeeper said, "I make you empanadas."

Henry rolled his eyes at Aly's audacity. "Come on," he said.

It took them an hour to unload the truck. Most of her things went
to her bedroom, and she piled the rest in the upstairs rec room.

"Do we have time to get cleaned up before dinner?" Henry called
to Marisela when they finished.

A mouth-watering aroma followed her out of the kitchen. "Thirty
minutes," she said.

Henry nodded. Upstairs, he left his clothes in a trail on the
bathroom floor. The hot shower stung his shoulders, but he simply
stood under it for a minute or two. Then he heard the bathroom
door open. For a moment he felt an irrational fear that Leanne
had returned early. She was supposed to be in San Diego with
Kacy, but...

Aly opened the steam-clouded shower door.

A wave of desire washed over him, but then he felt another stab
of fear: what if Marisela came upstairs? He relaxed almost
immediately. First, Marisela was busy in the kitchen. Second, she
never came into the bedroom when he or Leanne were there.

Aly drew his mind back to the present. "I thought I'd join you,"
she said. She shut the door behind her and squirted soap in her
palm. As she lathered his chest, he watched her steam-slick
breasts move. His penis jerked and began to stiffen.

She teased him with a surprised look. "Is that for me?"

She ran soap-slick hands over his shaft and then washed his
testicles. By the time she returned to his dick, he was
completely hard. She stroked him for a moment, her eyes riveted
to his erection. Then she gazed up at him. She closed her eyes
and parted her lips. With a soapy hand, she drew him down for a
kiss.

At first, he rebelled against the intimacy. A kiss was so...
_personal_. But then he silently laughed at himself. He was
willing to have sex with his own daughter, but he balked at a
kiss? Instead of pushing her away, he pulled her closer. Her
slippery body felt oh-so-good against his.

When she finally broke the kiss, she whispered, "I can't wait to
fuck you."

She squeezed his dick. Then she gently pushed him under the
steaming shower and rinsed the soap from his body. When she was
done, she pulled his hands to her breasts. Her nipples grew stiff
as he tweaked them.

"Oh, that's nice," she said. "I like your hands on me." She
closed her eyes and stroked his erection. They stood like that
for almost a minute. "Do you want to wash me?" she said at last.

He smiled in reply. She squirted soap into his hand, and he began
to lather her. Her skin felt young and smooth, and he reeled with
another wave of arousal. Aly turned and pressed her ass against
his hard-on. She looked over her shoulder and bit her lip,
playing the seductive vixen.

"Do you want to fuck me here?" she said.

He almost snorted at her audacity. Then he felt a moment of
uncertainty. A blowjob was one thing, but sex was another thing
entirely. Could he actually go through with it? He _wanted_ to,
but still...

Aly sensed his hesitation. "Don't worry, Dad," she said, "we have
all the time in the world. Mom won't be home till Wednesday,
right?"

He nodded.

"So that gives us two days."

He nodded again.

"You can give Marisela a couple of days off, and we can do
whatever we want." She waggled her eyebrows. "I have some totally
hot fantasies about where I want to do it."

He didn't argue--not with her nubile body pressed against him. He
felt a flicker of guilt at what he wanted to do, but he quickly
suppressed it. He'd already made his decision, and he was willing
to live with it. Incest might be worse than adultery, but Leanne
had broken their wedding vows long ago. He had a lot of catching
up to do.

Aly sensed his distraction. "Come on," she said, "Marisela should
have dinner about ready." She turned off the water and opened the
shower door. Steam billowed out as she reached for the towels.

Henry watched Aly dry herself, and his erection returned. She
reached for him with a grin. He closed his eyes as she began
sucking him. She pulled back after only a minute. Her eyes
sparkled.

"Later," she said. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Then
she giggled and dropped her towel.

He watched her bare ass as she sauntered from the room. When she
was gone, he stared into space, reliving the last few minutes.
Eventually, he turned away and blinked to clear his head. His
erection softened as he shaved, so he donned a loose warm-up suit
and headed downstairs.

He found Aly in the kitchen. She was bent over the island,
speaking Spanish with Marisela. The housekeeper stood at the
stove, with her back to the room. Aly looked over her shoulder
when she heard him. Her eyes flashed and she casually lifted her
skirt. She wasn't wearing panties.

Henry let his gaze roam over her narrow hips and smooth ass, but
his eyes were drawn to her pussy. She reached between her legs
and ran a finger along her slit. He was hard in an instant, and
he regretted wearing something so loose that it showed.

"Almost ready, Mr. Henry," Marisela said over her shoulder.

Aly grinned at him and then returned to her conversation with the
housekeeper. Henry spoke a few words of Spanish, but he couldn't
follow their conversation. Besides, he was distracted by Aly--her
pussy flashed pink as she spread her moisture.

"Okay, ready," Marisela said at last, startling Henry out of his
erotic stupor.

He and Aly ate dinner on the patio. The evening was still
relatively warm, but a cool breeze picked up as the sun slid
toward the horizon. Marisela cleaned up the dinner dishes and
then reappeared at the patio door.

"Do you need anything before I go, Mr. Henry?"

Henry shook his head. "Thanks again for coming to work today." he
said. She usually had weekends off. "Why don't you take tomorrow
off," he added, as casually as he could.

Aly cleared her throat softly.

"And Tuesday," he added. Marisela dithered for a moment, and
Henry immediately understood the reason. "With pay, of course,"
he said. When she relaxed, he said, "It's the least I can do."

She thanked him and left. As soon as she was gone, he felt Aly's
foot at his crotch. She smirked and burrowed her toes under his
semi-hard dick. It swelled immediately, and her expression turned
smug. Then she tugged her skirt up and bared her pussy. Without a
word, she began playing with herself.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" she finally asked.

A part of him wanted to fuck her right there on the patio table.
Another part wanted to wait until his dinner settled. A third
part--smaller and quieter--still rebelled at the idea of having
sex with his own daughter.

She spread her legs and inserted a finger. Then she held his eyes
as she tasted her own juices. All the while, her foot never
stopped teasing his erection.

_Why_ shouldn't _I have sex with her?_ he thought. _She wants it
as much as I do. More! Why should I live like a monk when Leanne
fucks anything with a dick?_ The seething anger killed his
erection, but his lingering guilt died as well. It was a silent,
unlamented death. "Why don't we watch a movie or something," he
finally suggested.

"But I _want_ you."

"I need to let my dinner settle," he half-lied.

In the media room, Aly flopped onto the couch and he sat next to
her, close but not touching. She scooted closer and he caught a
whiff of her perfume. His nostrils flared with arousal.

"What do you want to watch?" she asked. Before he could answer,
she turned to the Playboy Channel. It was showing "Naughty
College School Girls 15."

"Works for me," Henry said.

Aly pressed herself against him and set the remote aside. They
watched in silence.

"Wow, she's hot," Aly said at last.

The girl onscreen was blonde and thin, with fake boobs. Her pussy
was completely shaved, and she wore a glittering pendant in her
navel. She looked like a slutty version of Kacy.

"Normally, I don't like fake tits," Aly continued, "but so many
women have 'em these days. Hers are pretty nice, don't you
think?" When the scene switched to another girl--also shaved--Aly
lifted a foot to the couch. She pulled up her skirt and casually
regarded her sparse pubic hair. "Do you think I should go bare
down there?"

"I think you should keep _some_ pubic hair," Henry said. "I don't
like the little girl look." He snorted with silent laughter.
Maybe he didn't like the little girl look because he didn't want
to think of his daughter as a little girl.

_Can I actually do it?_ he asked himself one final time. _Can I
actually have sex with her?_

He loved her, and he didn't want to screw up her life. But _she_
had seduced _him_, not the other way around. He could've put a
stop to things before they'd gone too far, but with brutal
honesty, he admitted that he never really _wanted_ to stop her.
He'd been horny and starved for attention.

He blamed Leanne. If she hadn't been such a cold _bitch_... He drew
a deep breath and tried to relax. If Leanne hadn't cut him off,
he wouldn't have been so horny.

_But no! She spreads her legs for everyone_ but _me,_ he thought
viciously. _Fucking c--_ He balled his fists and ground his
teeth.

"What's wrong?" Aly said.

"Nothing," he lied. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his
poisoned thoughts.

Aly helped by distracting him--she talked about the girls
onscreen. She liked blondes the most, but she didn't seem all
that picky. She also liked girls with smaller breasts, which was
no surprise. She liked the shaved look, although she really got
excited by a redhead with her pubic hair trimmed into a heart
shape.

"Don't you think that's sexy?"

He nodded. His erection had returned full-force, and it made an
obvious bulge in his loose warm-ups. Without a word, Aly freed
his manhood. She descended on it with a soft moan.

Her lips wrapped around the head. Henry closed his eyes and
rested his hand on the back of her head. Aly bobbed gently for
several minutes, her lips smooth and soft. Henry felt like he was
in a trance--he still sensed the world around him, but it was
fuzzy and soft. His daughter was giving him a blowjob, and he
didn't see anything wrong with that. He wanted to fuck her, and
he didn't see anything wrong with _that_ either.

"Let's go upstairs," Aly said at last, breaking the spell.

He nodded absently.

"I want to do it in your bed."

_That_ got through to him, and he shook his head.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

"We can't," Henry said. "Not there."

"Why not? It's not like you and Mom--"

"That's not the point, Aly," he said. He shook his head again,
firmly. "Not there."

"Okay," Aly said, "then my bed."

"Not there either."

"Dad, you're killing my best fantasies" she said, a bit
perturbed. "Okay, how about your office?"

He nodded. The door was still open from earlier, and she inhaled
as soon as she walked into the suite.

"When I was a little girl," she said, "I loved the smell of this
place. Leather... wood... your cologne." She inhaled again and
skipped down the hall. Her skirt flew up as she twirled at the
door to his office. She became coquettish. "Do you want to do it
on your desk?"

Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared through the
doorway. When he reached the office, she was sitting on his desk
and kicking her feet girlishly. She spread her legs and beckoned.
His mouth watered at the thought of going down on her. She
must've had the same thought, because she lifted her skirt and
bared her pussy.

Henry knelt before her and put his hands on her inner thighs. Her
skin was soft and smooth. He inhaled the aroma of her arousal.
Then he flicked his tongue over her slit and tasted her. She
gasped and her belly rippled.

"Oh, God," she hissed, her fingers twined through his hair. She
hissed again, her stomach quivering as he licked her folds.

Her skirt bunched at her waist and he pushed it out of the way as
he cupped her ass and lifted her hips. He circled her clit with
his tongue and she cried out softly.

He licked and sucked until he felt her tense up. Then he inserted
a finger and pressed her G-spot. Her hips bucked, but he
continued licking. She bucked again, but then sat up and pushed
him away. She hadn't come. His brow furrowed with confusion.

"Fuck me," she said. "Fuck me, please. I want to come with you
inside me."

He stood and unzipped his warm-up jacket. He tossed it aside and
lowered the pants. He aimed his erection at Aly's pink and
glistening slit. She tugged him forward and rubbed the head over
her opening. Then she moved her hips and he was inside her.

The shock of it hit him like a blow. He was inside his own
daughter! He was fucking her.

Without so much as a glimmer of guilt, he slid into her. He
stopped when his hips pressed against the desk. She scooted
toward him and groaned as he filled her completely.

"Oh, God," she gasped, "fuck me."

The words rang in his ears and the world faded to the background.
Heat and moisture surrounded his cock. After more than a year of
forced abstinence, his senses reeled with pure pleasure.

With Aly urging him on, he began thrusting. His hips slapped her
thighs, filling the room with the sounds of sex. She lay back on
the desk. Then she lifted her shirt and bared her breasts. Her
nipples bounced with each thrust. He lowered his lips and
captured one. She hissed as he nibbled gently.

The pressure built in his balls and he lifted his head from Aly's
chest. She pulled his face up and kissed him long and deep, her
tongue sparring with his.

After a moment she broke the kiss and groaned as he filled her
again. "Fuck me," she panted. "Come inside me. Fill me with
come."

He pushed himself up and concentrated on fucking her. She tugged
at him, as if trying to get him to fuck her faster. He was going
as fast as he could--the staccato sounds of his thrusts sounded
like a person applauding.

He felt a rush of heat and moisture as her pussy clenched him.
Her eyes rolled back and she frantically tugged at her nipples.
He kept pounding into her. His own climax was close, and his
balls felt tight with the need for release. He groaned, low and
guttural.

"Oh, God, _yes!_" Aly screamed. Her pussy clenched again.

With a final lunge, he buried himself as deep as he could and
felt an explosion of pleasure. The sensation spread outward and
engulfed him. He clamped his eyes shut and saw stars. Beneath
him, Aly heaved in the final throes of her own orgasm.

When Henry finally came to his senses, he was panting. Aly was
too, but she gazed up at him with a look of satisfaction. His
dick eventually went soft within her, and she made a moue as it
slipped out. He smiled in apology. After all, he wasn't a twenty-
year-old anymore.

She smiled. "I love you."

"I love you too, sweetheart." A pang of guilt speared him, but he
ignored it. Aly was an adult. They were _both_ adults.

"Do you want to go for a swim to cool off?" she asked.

He nodded.

"And then maybe afterward," she suggested, "we can go up to my
room."

He shook his head.

She pouted. "Why not?"

"One taboo at a time, Aly," he said.

Her expression brightened. "Tomorrow night?"

Something within him stirred at the thought. "Maybe."

-----

The next day, Henry returned from work to find Aly in a classic
little black dress. It clung to her lithe body and barely covered
her ass. She had dinner ready, and she'd set two places at the
end of the big mahogany table in the formal dining room. She even
had candles and a bottle of wine.

"I thought we should celebrate," she said.

He'd begun to feel guilty about what they'd done. "Celebrate
what?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh, don't worry," she said. "I'm not in love with you or
anything. I mean, I _love_ you, but..." She looked exasperated for
a moment. "I'm not going all romantic or anything. I just want
you to fuck me."

When her words registered, he forgot his guilt. "Do you always
talk like this?"

She smirked. "Only with my boyfriend."

"Aly, I'm _not_ your boyfriend."

"Okay," she said. "Only with the man I'm fucking at the time."

"Do you have to use that word?"

"Fuck?" she asked. "What's wrong with it? It's what we're doing."

"Aly, we're not... 'fucking.'"

She grinned at his discomfort. "Then what're we doing, Dad?"

He set his jaw.

"Since Mom's not going to give you what you need, you should get
it from somewhere. It's not healthy to go without sex. That's
where I come in."

"So I'm like a summer internship?" he asked, his feelings
unexpectedly bruised.

She moved close and pressed herself against him. "No, Dad, it's
nothing like that." Her eyes softened. "I love you."

"I love you too, kitten, but--"

"I've always had the hots for you, Dad. I told you, I wanted you
to take my virginity. But I'm not a girl anymore. I have needs.
You do too. So why can't we take care of each other? We love each
other, right?"

He nodded.

"And this is what people do when they love each other," she said.
She sounded reasonable. _Seductively_ reasonable. "I want to make
you feel good. And you definitely make me feel good." She smiled
and nodded toward the place settings. "So I thought we should
celebrate our new relationship."

"New relationship?"

"We're lovers," she said simply.

"Alyson, we're not lovers."

"I love you. You love me. I want to fuck you. You want to fuck
me. That sounds like lovers to me, Dad."

"Do you have to keep using that word?"

"Fuck," she said deliberately. "I want to fuck you, Dad. And I'm
not the only one. I was telling Jordyn about last night, and--"

"You did _what?_"

"I told Jordyn," she said without blinking.

He was dumbstruck.

"Don't worry, she won't tell anyone." She pulled away and began
serving their dinner. She talked casually, as if the conversation
were an everyday chat. "She's totally hot for you. She wanted to
come over tonight, but I told her some other time. She wants to
do it on your desk, like you--"

Henry recovered from his shock. "You _told_ her, Aly? What in
God's name were you _thinking?_"

"Relax, Dad," Aly said. "She's known all along. Who did you think
I was texting the whole time we were waiting for the mechanic?"

_Her phone,_ he thought. _The text messages._ The realization hit
him and he felt his breath go out.

"She was the one who suggested the handjob with the massage. I
was going to let you catch me masturbating."

His eyes flew wide.

"Her idea was better, though." She shrugged unapologetically.

"So you were planning this all along?"

"Not the breakdown part," she said, "but everything else."

"Aly, I..."

"Oh, Dad, don't be a prude. I've wanted to fuck you since I first
realized what sex was."

"Do you have to keep _saying_ that?"

"'Fuck,' Dad. It's just a word. Now, let's eat before it gets
cold."

He ate mechanically. His thoughts were a chaotic mess. If Aly and
Jordyn had planned the whole thing...? Who _else_ had she told?
What if someone found out?

"I thought we could watch some TV after dinner," Aly said
innocuously. "And then maybe we can go for a swim once it gets
dark. I like skinny dipping with you. It makes me horny thinking
about nothing between me and your cock but the water."

"Do you have to use _that_ word, too?"

"What word? 'Cock'?"

He nodded.

She rolled her eyes. "Dad, it's just a word. Besides, I like the
sound of it." She grinned. "I like the _feel_ of it better, but..."
She took a sip of wine and gazed at him over the rim of her
glass. "Will you _relax_, Dad? We can talk about sex like two
adults, you know? I'm not a little girl anymore." She grinned
smugly. "Jordyn said you'd be like this."

He glared a question at her.

"She said it'd take you a while to get used to it." Aly waved her
wine glass. "I mean, I've had a long time to get used to the idea
of fucking my own father."

"Aly, _please_," he said. "Show some decorum."

She set her wine glass down and turned serious. "I'm sorry, Dad.
If you don't want me to say it, I won't say it."

He compromised: "Just don't say it as often."

She smiled. "I still want to _do_ it, though. I want to do it as
often as we can. We'll have to be careful when Mom gets home, but
I think we can manage at least once a day."

"Once a _day?_"

She nodded casually. "I really want it more than that, but I
don't know if we'll be able to manage."

"You want _more_...?"

"Mmm hmm. We'll figure something out," she said, her mind already
working. Then she drew her eyes back to the table and set her
wine glass down. "In the meantime, would you like an after-dinner
blowjob?"

He blinked at her nonchalance.

She misunderstood and began to frown.

He smiled. "Maybe a little later," he suggested, "in the pool."

Her eyes lit up. "And then afterward," she said, "can we have sex
in my bed?"

He hesitated.

"Please, Dad? You don't know how hot that makes me. I promise
you'll enjoy it. _Please?_"

He hesitated a moment longer, but his dick was already growing
stiff at the thought.

She sensed his crumbling resolve and broke into a smile. "We're
going to have fun this summer," she gushed. "Jordyn and I are
going to fuck your brains out. You'll love her. She's..."

She chattered as they carried their plates back to the kitchen.

Henry's nascent erection turned into a full-blown hard-on, and he
wondered if he'd be able to last until they went swimming.

"Oh, God, Dad," Aly said at last. "I _so_ can't wait to fuck
you." With that, she pressed herself against him and rubbed his
hard-on through his suit pants. Then she turned and bent over the
breakfast counter. When she looked over her shoulder, her
expression could've melted the polar ice caps. She tugged her
dress up. She wasn't wearing panties.

Henry's last shreds of his remorse vanished in a fog of arousal.

She moaned as he entered her from behind. She was hot and wet and
oh-so-tight. "Oh, God," she groaned. "We're going to have _so_
much fun this summer."

THE END

-----

Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved.

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