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Subject: Title story: "THE MAGAZINES" Author: Incest Daddy 60727146
From: Family Man <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Tue, 29 Nov 2005 01:04:48 +0000
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THE MAGAZINES I worked from home, using my computer to sell goods on the World
Wide Web. I posted ads on the news groups and elsewhere. I also did taxes, wrote
manuscripts for writers, and things like that. It sounded pretty droll, but I
made outstanding money, and never planned to quit. The business grew rapidly,
and during the summer, my daughter helped me. We had a regular, real office
attached to the side of the house --- a part of the garage. Right in the middle
of summer, Marcie took a short vacation with my ex-wife, and I was alone,
running the business by myself. That was bad for me, because I had really began
to depend on her. She kept track of everything --- the supplies like paper,
print cartridges --- the whole works. While she was gone, there wasn't much I
could do when I needed supplies, other than go into her desk and rummage through
until I found what I was looking for. That's when I found one of those sex
letter magazines. It seems my daughter, Marcie, had a couple of magazines in her
desk. They were sex letter magazines. One of the pages was dog-eared, and I
found that it opened to a letter about a daughter who had the hots for her
father, and acted out her fantasies of actually sucking his cock. I could feel
my cock raise up in my pants at reading the story. I was amazed that such things
actually happened. I was also amazed at my own reaction. I was turned on by the
thought of my daughter sucking me off. The pages were well-worn, and believe it
or not, sticky. Never mind the old jokes about sticky pages it's true. I had
noticed a few times, when she had gone to lunch, or I was out of the office and
come back suddenly, that I had seen her with a slightly flushed face. Once, I
had even seen red blotches on her neck --- the kind a person gets from sexual
excitement. It seems she had been masturbating, diddling her pussy while I was
in the bathroom, or getting coffee. I took the magazine back to my desk and
decided that I would take a look at it. Reading it certainly gave me an instant
hard on. I had a sudden interruption from a client, and put the magazine under a
stack of papers. Then, I surfed the internet for a while. I forgot the magazine
was there, getting phone calls and what-not. I left the office to run down to
the local hamburger joint and grabbed some really nasty, greasy hamburgers for
lunch. When I got home, my ex-wife's car was just pulling out of the driveway.
She waved and honked her horn, and then drove away. Our divorce wasn't nasty we
were still civil. When I went back into the office, Marcie was standing there. I
walked up and hugged her, holding her close to me. Then, I remembered the
magazine, and what she had been reading. I pulled away from her and held her at
arm's length. "I sure am glad to see you," I said. I went into my small,
partitioned office, looking for the magazine under the papers. The papers had
been shifted somewhat. The magazine was gone. I looked up and saw Marcie
standing in the doorway. In her hand, she held the missing magazine. "You
looking for this?" she asked. I nodded. "I was going to bring it back to you," I
said. "Did you read it?" I nodded. "Did you read the letter about the daughter
who really wants to suck her father's cock, and would go to almost any lengths
to do it?" "I think so, yes," I said, feeling my cock begin to stiffen in my
pants. She put the magazine on my desk. "Read that, while I help you with this,"
she said. She came around the desk and squatted between my legs. I could feel
her fingers press against my hard cock in my pants as she found my zipper. She
unbuckled my pants, then spread the material open. She reached in and pulled the
elastic band of my briefs, and reached in and wrapped her fingers around my
stiff dick. She tugged at the elastic, stretching it and then pulling my balls
forward. My cock and balls were sticking out of my pants, and I felt her hot
breath on my balls as she leaned forward and flicked out her tongue. She ran her
tongue all over my tight balls, holding on to my hard cock the whole time. She
began to move her hand up and down on my dick, licking my balls at the same
time. She pulled her tongue back into her mouth and then just ran her lips all
over my balls, making kissing and sucking noises with her lips. She moved her
lips to my hard shaft, and darted out with her tongue again, licking the shaft
back and forth, all the way up to the throbbing head of it. Then I felt her
tongue right on the tip of it as she swirled it around and around the head. She
opened her mouth wide and took my cock into her mouth then. She started sucking,
wrapping her lips around my cock firmly as she sucked, her cheeks caving in on
the sides. I watched her, unbelieving, and she looked up into my eyes. I felt
her tongue move around and around my cock, and the sight and feeling sent
warning thrills to my stomach. I was going to cum soon. I moved my hips back and
forth gently, and my legs began to shake. "I'm going to cum, Marcie," I said.
She moved her mouth and her tongue faster then, and started stroking and
squeezing with her fingers right below her lips. I came, feeling my dick expand
and jerk inside her mouth. She swallowed and sucked on my cock even harder,
making my orgasm all that much more powerful. She swallowed every last drop of
it, and then took it out of her mouth and licked up any tell-tale cum that had
dripped out of it. She put my cock and balls back in my pants gently, then
zipped up my pants and buckled me up. She stood and straightened her skirt. I
sat there, still not believing what had just happened. "Um," I said, not knowing
how to broach the next subject. So, I was blunt. "Marcie, can I lick your
pussy?" My daughter stared at me, looking down at my wet, throbbing cock. She
squinted her eyes and said, "Well, I guess so." "Huh?' She laughed. "Hell, yes,
Dad, lick it!" I sure am glad my daughter found your magazines on some rack
somewhere. Now, I'm wondering about my sister, Charlotte. I wonder if she's read
the letters... --- Edward F., Whittier, CA
End
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