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Subject: Title story: "Chandra Caught Me" Author: TABOO MAN 47011184
From: Incestor <familyincest@graffiti.net>
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Date: Thu, 23 Jun 2005 07:19:45 +0000
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Chandra Caught Me
By bobby
My daughter is fifteen, and for the past two years I have fought a serious
battle with my desire to have sex with her. I know she's my little girl and that
to fuck her would have terrible psychological effects on her--and for all I
know, on me as well--and would be horribly wrong for any number of reasons. Yet
the desire persists. I've always been attracted to teen girls anyway, but my own
daughter-- Chandra is her name--is so scrumptiously hot that I can barely
contain myself. Several times I have snuck into her room and snatched a pair of
her soiled little panties for my own masturbation purposes. The smell of her
little cunt is so fresh and sweet, and it mixes so powerfully with the sour
little whiff of sweat and urine that are always present too. I inhale my
daughter's sexy odor and pull off my big cock until my sperm--the very sperm
that gave produced my hot little baby girl--squirts out forcefully in five or
six massive spurts. I always put her panties back where I found them, taking
care never to stain them with any telltale cum. I told myself that even jacking
off while sniffing her underwear was going way too far, but also I felt by doing
that I was keeping myself from doing anything worse.
Things recently got worse. My wife's sister got sick and so my wife had to leave
town for a few weeks. I was just my daughter and I at home alone that whole
time. I did pretty well for a few days, not doing anything worse that smelling
her panties and beating off. The first Saturday my wife was gone, however,
something happened. I told Chandra that I had some work to do at my office and
that I would not be back until mid-afternoon. I got done with the work much more
quickly than I had anticipated and arrived back at our house just a bit after
11. As I turned on to our street, I saw that there was black Mazda parked in
front of our house. I recognized it: it belonged to an older boy--Rick or Rich
or something. He was 17, I think that Chandra had been on dates with a few
times. I had some idea what might be happening, so I drove past our house and
parked one street over. Quietly I let myself in and slowly crept up the stairs.
I heard the very sounds that I hoped (and feared) that I would: the faint squeak
of bed springs, little soft yelps from my daughter-- something like "mmmnah,
mmmnah" and then a little yip or two like a small dog might make--and heavier
grunts of effort from an obviously male voice. Chandra's door was closed and I
stood outside listening for a few minutes. The boy's breathing got faster and
more ragged; he was very close to cumming. I thought about that young penis
spurting all its semen deep inside my daughters tight little pussy. It made me
very hot--I was rubbing by cock rather roughly through my jeans, trying not to
make any noise--but it also made me jealous. Why couldn't I be the one squirting
into my daughter's little cunny? I certainly loved her more than this silly high
school boy and I was certain I could satisfy her more completely too. (I could
tell the boy wasn't going to be able to hold back until Chandra was ready for
her own orgasm.) The boy let out a sharp gasp, and I knew he'd cum. I slowly
made my way back down the stairs and out the door.
I was hoping and praying that they had heard nothing. I went back to my car and
drove around for an hour or so, listening to the radio and trying to make my hard-
on go away. Finally, it subsided partially and I drove back home. The kid's car
was gone. When I went inside and started up the stairs, I heard the shower
running faintly. Chandra's door was cracked; I snuck into her room and smelled a
distinct smell of sex. Not wanting to disturb anything, I pushed my nose gently
close to the damp spot on Chandra's sheets and inhaled that luscious aroma
deeply. Then I quickly went to the bathroom inside the master bedroom, turned on
the shower, and jerked myself to a copious orgasm in about ninety seconds. Sperm
shot everywhere. I'd never cum so hard in my life. All I could think of was that
spicy sex odor on Chandra's sheets and the sound of her voice, those little
moans she made while getting fucked. I cleaned up, stepped into the shower, and
told myself that I was moving down a dangerous path. I resolved to put my sexy
little girl out of my mind.
I didn't have much luck with my resolution, however. That night I slept poorly,
waking up rock hard at least three times. Twice during the night I jerked off,
the sound of my daughter's voice and the smell of her sweaty little muff tying
me in knots. But I didn't try anything with her; I didn't rush to her room in
the middle of the night and force my cock inside her tight little pussy--even
though part of me wanted to do so very badly. But I made it through that night.
The next afternoon my daughter went to the mall with some friends of hers. As
soon as she was out the door, an idea occurred to me: phone sex. I could call a
phone sex service--I did this once in a while anyway--and request an incest
fantasy. Immediately I tried to talk myself out of it. Wasn't this a step beyond
jerking off while sniffing Chandra's panties? I couldn't decide. Also, wouldn't
it be embarrassing to be down in the records of the phone sex company as an
incest caller? (Was that more embarrassing than being in their records as a
caller who liked to be seduced by babysitters, which is what I usually
requested? I decided it probably was.) At any rate, I wrestled with the dilemma
for over an hour and then finally gave in. I decided I wanted this to be a long
slow call, so I bought an hour, much longer than my usual 15 minutes. I told the
operator I wanted the girl to be my fifteen-year-old daughter and for her name
to be Chandra. I was absolutely stiff. My stomach was twitching; I was shivering
with the thought of something so taboo.
The call was going well. After half an hour or so the girl and I had settled
into a pattern: I was instructing my daughter how bad and insensitive it was to
be a cock-tease. I was telling her that I knew a way to cure her of her teasing
ways, and so on. I remember saying something like: "Chandra, honey, you need to
be shown how boys like to be treated. I want you to suck my cock, and when daddy
is satisfied that you can do that well enough, I'm going to push my cock up
inside your little pussy and make you squeal. And if you try to tease daddy,
I'll get a lot rougher with you, and make you take my cock inside your sweet
little butthole. That's right honey that would hurt. But I don't want to hurt my
little girl. So open up and show what a good little daughter you can be by
sucking daddy's penis." Something like that anyway. There was a knock at my
bedroom door--Chandra was home; I was so into the fantasy that I hadn't heard
her come in-- "Daddy?" she said as she swung the door open. I had time to hang
up the phone roughly but not time to cover my swollen cock.
"You're home early," I said, trying to cover up.
She was staring at my erection. "Who were you talking to?" she asked me. "I
thought I heard you saying my name."
"No, I didn't say your name honey, I . . ." I saw her eyes take in the porn mag
open to phone sex ads spread beside me on the bed, the American Express card
next to the phone on the night table.
"I know about phone sex, daddy," she said, coming closer. "Were you pretending
to have sex with me?"
I was floored. I nodded.
"I know you sometimes steal my panties daddy--what do you do with them?" She
moved closer, sitting down beside me.
I said, "Chandra this isn't right. We shouldn't be doing this. Think of your
mother." Then she leaned across me and popped the head of my cock into her
mouth, and licked and sucked me with a girlish eagerness. I felt bad, terrible,
and somehow that made me hotter still. I stroked her hair and she looked up at
me with my wife's eyes while slurping and kissing away. That did it. A huge
wave of sperm gushed forth into Chandra's mouth. It was too much for her; she
choked and gagged a little, my dick came out of her mouth and shot a squirt or
two into her hair for good measure. "Wasn't that better than phone sex daddy?"
she asked me as I slumped guiltily back on the bed. "Wasn't that better than
how mommy does it?"
END
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