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From: archer@PEAK.ORG (Chris Goodwin)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.incest
Subject: "Sabrina" (Mf, inc, teen, rom)
Supersedes: <4k3i54$g7l@PEAK.ORG>
Date: 5 Apr 1996 08:45:45 -0800
Organization: CS Outreach Services, Oregon State University, Corvallis, OR, USA
Lines: 295
Message-ID: <4k3inp$h79@PEAK.ORG>
NNTP-Posting-Host: peak.org
Xref: news.primenet.com alt.sex.stories:144465 alt.sex.stories.incest:394

This is my first effort at a story for posting here.  Please feel free to 
e-mail with comments.  


*** THIS STORY DEALS WITH SEXUAL SITUATIONS.  IF DEPICTIONS OF SEX OFFEND 
YOU, INCLUDING SEX BETWEEN A FATHER AND DAUGHTER, OR SEX BETWEEN AN ADULT 
AND A MINOR, DO NOT READ THIS.  THE AUTHOR IS NOT RESPONSIBLE IF YOUR 
FEELINGS ARE HURT.  YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. ***  


*** THE FOLLOWING IS A WORK OF FICTION AND HAS NO BASIS IN FACT.  THE 
AUTHOR DOES NOT ADVOCATE INCESTUOUS SEXUAL RELATIONSHIPS NOR SEXUAL 
RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN ADULTS AND MINORS. *** 












It all started when my daughter, Sabrina, was 14.  Actually, it started 
way before that, when Sabrina's mother, Donna, left me.  There was no 
contact for about six months... this was a dark period in my life.  I was 
starting a new job, didn't have many friends, and lived across the 
country from my parents; when Donna first left, my parents came and spent 
about two weeks with us, but they had their own lives and couldn't stay 
away for a really long time.  I became extremely depressed, and was on 
Valium for a time.  

Contact finally came when Donna called me up, needing money.  She sounded 
funny on the phone, and wanted me to meet her at a house in Portland; she 
gave me the address.  I bundled Sabrina up and took her along.  

The house could charitably be described as a flophouse, in a building 
which should have been (and probably was) condemned.  Donna looked like 
hell; she had a "friend" with her, who was pretty ugly in a mean sort of 
way.  I gave her $50, which was all I really had, and begged her to come 
back to me.  She said she'd think about it, but I somehow suspected she 
wouldn't.  As I got up to leave, I noticed the needle tracks on Donna's 
arms.  All the way back to the car, I felt as though I had a target 
painted on my back.  

I never saw Donna alive again.  Three weeks later, I received a call from 
the Portland police, wanting me to come up to identify a body.  It was 
Donna.  She'd died of an overdose.  The autopsy report also mentioned 
"multiple abrasive traumas of inner thigh and genital region," as well as 
a broken ankle that healed poorly along with miscellaneous other 
contusions and wounds.  

			*	*	*

Sabrina didn't quite understand at first, but she accepted it.  After a 
while, she seemed to forget about her mother, except when she would 
occasionally find the photo of the three of us together (the only one 
there ever was) and asked, "Is this mommy?"  After my gut wrenched, I'd 
answer.  "Yes, honey, this is mommy."  "Okay," she'd answer, and go back 
to playing with her dolls or her cars or whatever.  After a while I put 
the photo away, and she no longer came to me with it.  

As Sabrina grew older, I could never get over how much she looked like 
her mother.  Everything about her face was Donna, and during the summers 
her hair would lighten to the exact same shade as Donna's.  Eventually, 
it stopped darkening again.  But aside from her hair, I was always 
noticing something new in the way she'd turn her head when I'd call her 
name, or in how she'd cross her feet when she lay on the floor or on her 
bed, all the unconscious gestures that she couldn't have picked up 
anywhere.  

We were never particularly shy with each other.  We weren't nudists or 
anything, but I never made a big deal of it if she came walking in on me 
in the shower (I had to keep the door unlocked in case she had to use the 
bathroom), and she of course seemed to have no modesty until she turned 
about six or seven.  I noticed that she was a very beautiful child (with 
only an occasional twinge as I remembered her mother), but there was 
nothing sexual in it.  Not then, at any rate.... 

Sabrina had turned 14 maybe a month or so earlier.  She would 
"accidentally" walk in on me when I was changing my shirt, or when I was 
peeing, or when I was shaving...it almost became a game to her.  
Until... 

I was getting ready to take a shower, peeing, having already stripped 
down to my skin, when she walked in to check herself in the mirror or 
something.  She glanced down and asked "What is that thing?"  

I knew she knew full well what it was, as I wasn't shy about teaching her 
the parts, so I just said, "You know."  She giggled and blushed, then 
walked out.  I didn't pay much attention, and went on with my shower.  

After I was finished, I stepped out of the tub to find her there 
completely naked, waiting for the shower.  That was when I noticed that 
my little girl was, well, no longer so little.  Her breasts had developed 
to the point where they were almost handfuls, her nipples cherry red 
(like her mother's!) with large nubs.  I couldn't help glancing down to 
notice a light brown fringe at her pussy.  I felt my cock start to stir, 
and looked away, telling myself it was just a draft from the open door.  
She caught me looking, though.  "Ooo, Daddy, do you like what you see?"  
She raised her arms over her head and turned a 360, in a model's pose.  

I watched her; hell, I couldn't take my eyes off her.  She'd be 
proportioned just like her mother when she filled out, I could tell that 
already.  She even had Donna's heart shaped ass...  She noticed my cock 
getting hard.  She giggled.  "Daddy's got a hard on."  

I blushed.  "That's enough," I said with mock sternness, wrapping a towel 
around my waist.  "Go take your shower and leave me alone."  She giggled 
again and closed the door behind her as I walked down the hall to my 
bedroom.  

I couldn't get the sight of her body out of my mind as I finished drying 
myself and hung the towel on a hook on the door.  My cock kept stirring; 
I couldn't ignore it, so finally I sat on the edge of my bed and 
masturbated into a tissue.  As I did, my thoughts were drawn to Donna, or 
Terry, my girlfriend, but in my mind's eye Donna and Terry kept turning into 
Sabrina, even to the point where it was Sabrina whose nipples I was 
sucking on, Sabrina whom I was making love to, Sabrina who I was 
cumming into...  I came hard, and didn't catch about half of it; this was 
easily cleaned up.  

I got dressed, then went downstairs to make dinner.  I didn't really 
think anything more of it, until I walked back upstairs to let her know 
dinner was ready.  I heard her moaning through her door...she was 
masturbating.  It suddenly dawned on me that I had no idea what was going 
on with her, why she put on her little show for me in the bathroom.  Her 
moans turned into "Oh, yes...yes...do it to me...do it, daddy...do it to 
me..."  Suddenly my cock was stirring again.  I stood there, wondering if 
I should interrupt her; part of me wanted to storm in and take her, 
finish what she had started with her hands, and part of me was disgusted 
by the thought.  _She's your own daughter, pervert,_ a voice inside told 
me.  I decided to wait it out, and after the moans stopped I counted 
sixty, then tapped on her door.  "Honey, dinner's ready."  

"Okay, daddy, I'll be down in a few minutes."  She sounded a little out 
of breath, but I probably wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't heard every 
sensuous moan, her bed squeaking with the force she must have been 
using...  _Stop that._  I walked back downstairs and sat down at the 
table.  

A minute or so later she walked down, dressed in a t-shirt and sweat 
pants.  I could see her nipples poking through the t-shirt, trying to 
ignore them, and if she noticed she didn't let on.  We ate in silence, 
punctuated by a few mini-discussions on which of my science fiction books 
she could borrow next (her favorite was Heinlein, go figure) or if she 
could spend the night at her friend's house tomorrow night.  I said sure, 
I've got plans to have Terry over tomorrow.  We finished, and I told her 
she could call her friend after she finished the dishes.  

			*	*	*

After Terry and I made love, we lay in bed together.  I couldn't stop 
thinking about the incident with Sabrina.  I was quiet, and Terry asked, 
"Is something wrong?"  No, nothing was wrong, I told her.  She let it go 
at that, but I could tell she didn't believe me.  She knew I'd 
masturbated during the day, also; that was something I could never hide 
from her.  Things seemed a little strained after that, and she decided to 
leave.  She wasn't angry at me, she told me; she knew I had something on 
my mind, and I wasn't the best at opening up to her.  I told her that I 
thought I needed a day or two to try to sort it out and deal with it in 
my own way.  I kissed her good night as she left, then wandered back 
upstairs to bed.  

That night, I dreamed first of Donna, then of Terry, then Donna again.  
They seemed intermingled, as though they were different sides of the same 
person.  In my dream she was there, and I snuggled up to her.  She 
pressed her bottom against me, and my cock tucked up against her, found 
its way into her.  My hand brushed her breast, found a t-shirt, then slid 
up underneath to settle on her bare skin.  Her nipple grew hard under my 
hand, and I slept.  

I came partly awake once, and she was there.  "Terry?"  

"Shhh, go to sleep."  It wasn't Terry.  

"Donna...."  She kissed me softly on the lips.  I slept again.  

In the morning, I awoke, and the bed was empty.  I got up to pee, and 
bumped into Sabrina.  "What are you doing here?  I thought you were at 
Jenny's house."  

"I came home early."  She was coming from the bathroom to her bedroom, 
dressed in a night shirt.  "I'm going back to bed."  

"Okay, hon," I yawned, then went into the bathroom and did my business, 
then went back to bed.  It was light out, but the clock said 6:40.  Time 
for a couple more hours, and it was Saturday anyway.  

			*	*	*

I awoke to the smell of bacon.  Time to get up... Sabrina must have been 
up making breakfast.  In t-shirt and sweats I wandered down to the 
kitchen.  

"Morning, daddy."  Sabrina wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me 
on the lips, pressing herself against me.  

"Whoa, tiger."  I hugged her back.  "You're awfully happy this morning.  
What's up?"  I sat down at the table and took a sip of juice.  

"I don't know, are you?"  

I don't _think_ orange juice came out my nose.  "Sabrina, what's gotten 
into you?"  

"Daddy, I love you.  What's wrong with that?"  She wrapped her arms 
around my neck, pressed her breasts into my back.  She leaned close and 
nipped on my earlobe.  "I want you, daddy."  

"But...Sabrina..."  

"C'mon, daddy.  I know you've thought about it.  Heinlein wrote about it, 
for gosh sakes."  She had me there.... I began wondering if this wasn't 
why he was her favorite author, and how long she'd been thinking about me 
in this way.  Her hands began rubbing my shoulders, my arms, my chest, 
moving down... into the waistband of my sweatpants... 

"You're underage," I protested, but didn't pull her hand away.  She 
wrapped her hand around my cock, which was getting quite hard by this 
time.  "Sabrina...."  A light dawned.  "That was you..."

"Please, daddy?  I love you..." 

"This isn't right..." I couldn't stop her, though.  My cock didn't care 
that she was my own flesh and blood, that she was underage, that I could 
get in deep trouble for this.  I turned partway around, and her mouth was 
on mine.  

She was sweet.  Our tongues danced as we made love with our mouths.  I broke 
away.... "Let's go upstairs... do this right..."  

She was silent, but took me by the hand, led me upstairs.  I started 
automatically to head toward my bedroom, but she pulled me to hers.  She 
was already out of her t-shirt, nude underneath, as I closed the door.  
"I can't believe we're doing this," I said.  

She pulled my t-shirt off over my head, kissed me again.  _The hell with 
it._  I pulled her close, enjoying the feel of her young breasts hot 
against my chest.  I ran my hands down the curve of her back, along her 
ass, pulled her close.  I reached up to caress her budding breast, and 
her nipple grew hard under my hand.  I pinched it softly, and she 
moaned.  "Harder...."  I increased pressure, more and more, 'til it 
seemed it would hurt her.  "Yes...."  I broke our kiss, covered her 
nipple with my lips, sucked it in.  She moaned again.  My tongue danced 
across the nub, which grew harder.  "Yes....daddy...I love you..."  

I broke away, dropped my sweatpants and kicked out of them, then wrapped 
my arms around her and pulled her to the bed, on top of me as I lay 
back.  I grew hard, and she reached down with one hand and began stroking 
it.  She moved forward onto me, till her wet pussy was poised over me, and 
sank down.  I slid into her; she was tight, but there was no feeling of 
hesitation.  "Sabrina...you've done this before?"  

She grinned.  "I'm no virgin, daddy."  Ecstasy crossed her face as I sank 
into her to the hilt.  I felt her insides clamp down on me, then relax as 
I pressed against her cervix.  She moved up and down on top of me, and I 
grew harder as she bathed me with her hot velvety juices.  "Yes....."  

I leaned down and took her nipple into my mouth again.  Her breathing 
came raggedly now, and I could tell she was getting close.  So was I.  
She began controlling the thrusts, moving faster, but I lay back and 
broke the rhythm, to slow her down.  She slowed, then began speeding up 
again.  I slowed her once again.  I lay back, thrusting deeper into my 
daughter as she grasped me, milked me with her muscles.  Part of me kept 
telling me, "This is wrong, she's your daughter, she's underage..."  I 
ignored it.  This was a fully grown, mature woman, whom I was making love 
to, and who just happened to be my 14 year old daughter.  

Neither of us could wait any longer... she moved faster now, and I didn't 
stop her, but thrust my iron-hard cock deeper into her.  She began 
screaming as her orgasm took hold.  "YES!  DADDY!  I LOVE YOU!"  Her 
breath was gone as she moaned, almost crying by now.  My own climax was 
building, as I tried to hold it off for those last few instants.  I was 
suffused with love for my daughter, and I held her tightly to me and 
jammed my mouth against her neck as I came inside her, my hot jets of 
semen spurting across her cervix and into her womb.  Her body shivered 
against mine, the spasms of her orgasm providing her only bodily 
movement.  She'd passed out.  I felt like I was going to, so intense was 
my own orgasm, but through an effort of will I managed to stay 
conscious.  I lay back, and she fell forward on top of me; my cock was 
still inside her, and I could feel the spasms of her orgasm as her 
vaginal muscles held me captive.  Her body still shook, and she opened 
her eyes.  "Daddy?" she breathed, still orgasming.  

"Yes, love, I'm here."  I kissed her forehead, trailed my lips along her 
cheek to her lips.  My tongue sought hers again, and she collapsed 
against me.  "I love you, Sabrina."  

"I love you too, Daddy."  

---

