Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 This is a work of fiction.  It contains themes of incest and male on male
bisexuality (in later chapters).  first time, older/younger, daddy/daughter

   This text file contains sexually explicit material.  If you do not wish
to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS
FILE NOW!!!!  secondself@gmx.com

   Quinn McLeod entered his daughter's room as she slept, having gotten
home in the wee hours after her high school graduation.  He'd fallen asleep
on the living room couch waiting, and had barely roused when she covered
him and kissed him, thanking him for waiting up for her.  Now, with sun
streaming through her window, the breeze barely ruffling her long black
hair, he welled up looking at her.  A woman.  His beloved child was a
young, capable, beautiful woman.  How could that have happened?  Somewhere
in the years of ferrying her to softball, field hockey, soccer, piano
lessons, riding, she went from a chubby tomboy to a strong graceful young
woman with a clear sense of her own strength.  Soon, she would be off to
college away from him.  But now, in this moment, she was under his roof,
alive, warm, and calling him with her sweet loveliness.  Her entire life,
every damned day, he lusted for her.  He kept at a disciplined distance
from her, believing that at some point the discipline would result in a
lessening of ardor.  What he realized at this moment was that his love for
his daughter would never be only paternal.  He would always be in love with
her, and he would always want to share the most intimate of loves with her.
He would never let her know, and the callousness around his heart as a
result of the reality of his life would ultimately necessitate that he
separate himself from her forever.  "Perhaps sooner than later," he
muttered to himself and didn't realize he'd spoken out loud until she
stirred.  "Daddy?" she said as she looked up, brushing her hair away from
her face.  "Are you okay?  Are you crying?" Apparently the measure of his
own distress eluded his conscious awareness, as when she asked, he realized
that indeed, he had tears streaming down his face.  "Oh, sugar, I'm sorry I
woke you.  It's just your old dad being a little emotional over the fact
that you're growing up and will soon leave.  I'm sorry to wake you.  I'll
let you sleep, baby.  Sorry." With that, be backed out of her room and made
a beeline for the garage, his refuge wherein his heavy bag hung, and where
he built furniture out of found wood, recovered from all over the world. 
He shrugged out of his robe and grabbed his shorts, t-shirt, shoes and
gloves, anxious to work out his demons.  Lacing up, mindful of his
breathing, he reached inside for calm and found it as elusive as his
awareness moments ago.  Loosening up, jogging in place, he began with light
punches, working through an increasing program of speed and strength.  As
he worked, sweat dripped across his broad shoulders, poured through his
black hair, down his developed pecs and abs.  Slowly, he let go the grip on
his emotions and FELT the pain that brought tears a bit ago.  The old
familiar hopelessness of his situation gripped him again.  The rage that
accompanied hopelessness welled up and he lost himself in it, pounding the
bag, grunting, growling.  He cursed at the bag, "Damnit!  Why can't I get
her out of my system?" "Fucking FREAK.  I'm a goddamned FREAK!" "Why?"
"Why?" "WHY?" Eighteen years of sublimation, eighteen years of burying and
obfuscating and rechanneling.  He found himself unable to find the reserve
inside, and felt a tiny drip of panic growing.  He pounded the bag until
his body shook, legs feeling like jelly, tears continuing to mix with
sweat. "GODDAMNIT!" he said again and again as his now sloppy punches began
to slide off the sweat-slicked bag.

   He stumbled to his workbench and fumbled out of his gloves, reaching for
a towel.  He raged into the towel, continuing to yell.  He turned roughly
from the bench, and nearly knocked his daughter down.  "Jesse!  What the
fuck?" he asked roughly, panic now full on him.  She was crying, clearly
scared to see her father, this pillar of control unhinged.  "Daddy," she
said in a tremulous voice, "Why are you so mad with yourself?  What on
earth is happening?  First you're crying and now you're angry.  What have I
done?"

   She stood barefoot in one of his old MIT t-shirts, the green of the
shirt making her green eyes more intense.  She shook in fear and that fear
should have sobered him, but instead it magnified his guilt.  They
confronted one another, a 6'3" 44 year old widowed coiled snake in the
guise of a man and a 5'11" blackhaired beauty, brainy teenaged girl whose
biceps showed the hours that she logged at the bag.  She was afraid but
also concerned.  A deep sense of knowingness told her that at this moment,
she must be strong for him, and must help him regain his balance.  She had
no idea what was wrong, but her father meant everything to her and the
inner strength of which she was very aware, would hold her in good stead
for whatever he said.  Nothing could be worse than losing her mom two years
ago.  And they got through that together.  She knew that they could handle
anything.

   "Daddy," she said, taking the towel from his workbench and reaching
toward his face to wipe his tears, and when he shrunk back, she took his
wrist and drew him to her, "you always told me that nothing in either of
our lives could be bad enough to not share.  Now, you must believe that and
tell me why you are upset.  Have I done something wrong?" With that, her
own tears pooled over and spilled down her cheeks.  She continued to seek
his eyes, and he could not meet her gaze.  She wiped his face, and gently
toweled his head, his neck.  He stood stiffly, her touch lighting his
tortured soul on fire.  He felt his manhood respond and knew that she would
notice, standing so close.  He dared not back away, knowing she would sense
a rejection.  There was nothing more to do than tell her.  She would see
through any lie he might offer.  All these years.  He took a deep breath
and started on the speech he was certain would result in the loss of his
beloved daughter.

   He bowed his head a moment then finally looked at her and said, quietly,
"Jesse, I never wanted to tell you this.  All your life, I have kept it
from you.  If I could, I would spare you.  But, I have obviously run out of
reserves.  Your mother and I were completely in love when we made you. 
When you were born, I couldn't believe that our love made you.  But, there
you were.  I could see both of us in you.  My God, Jesse, from your first
breath, you were perfect.  I would watch you as your mother fed you at her
breast, and I couldn't believe that you sprung from both of us.  So much of
each of us I could see in you, and also, you were more, you were this
incredible other, your own amazing self.  "At night when you slept as a
baby, in the nursery, I could feel you inside of me.  I always knew when
you woke up, when you dreamt.  I would wake your mom to tell her you were
hungry before you even cried.  As you grew, that awareness of you never
lessened.  It's as though a part of me has always stayed inside you.  I
remember when you cheated on that social studies test in the first grade. I
was in a board meeting with the senior partners at the company that day. 
When you lied, I had a shooting pain in my head.  I passed out in the
conference room.  It wasn't until later that evening after I'd had a CAT
scan in the emergency room that I put together the timeframe and realized
that your confrontation with Mrs.  Bennett exactly corresponded with my
head pain.

   "Not only have I always been keenly attuned to your physical and
emotional states, Jesse, I have ..." he faltered, wondering how to say the
Truth.  She hugged him, stepping against his body.  He said, "Honey, you
may not want to do that." She said, "Daddy, just TELL me.  PLEASE.  But,
first, breathe.  Just like you taught me.  Deep breath, daddy, in, and hold
it.  Out, slow and long.  Breathe with me, daddy."

   Letting himself over to her sweet young wisdom, he listened to the
rhythm of her breath and did, feeling her pressing against him, praying
that his ardor would not make itself so apparent as to scare her.

   Feeling a bit calmer, shaking his head, sighing deeply, he said, "Thank
you, honey.  Okay, just know that if what I say to you scares you or upsets
you, I am sorrier than ever I could say.  I would never hurt you EVER,
Jesse.  And, I wish there was another way.  Here's the deal, baby.  All
your life, ALL your life, I have loved you in a way that is NOT the way
that a father should love his daughter.  I haven't just loved you with ever
fiber of a father's being, Jesse, but I have been - hell, I AM - in love
with you.  Your mother suspected, I think, but I never stopped loving her.
Ever.  And, I have always been able to keep myself - and this truth - away
from you.  Until today.  Until this morning when I saw you asleep and
realized that you would soon be leaving me forever, and that our lives
together were coming to a very fast close.  Jesse, I'm so sorry.  But there
it is.  I am in love with my beautiful, brilliant, amazing daughter."

   She hugged him.  Tightly.  She felt his heart racing against her cheek,
felt the hard maleness of his body, smelled his sweat and his fear, and
then she felt his manhood between them.  Her own heart raced as she
assimilated the information he shared with her.  She did not feel afraid,
for even though his confession was news, just as her father's intuition
about her was profound, she had lived her entire life knowing when he
struggled.

   "Daddy, always I have known that you had a secret.  I used to ask mom
what it was, and she told me that she didn't know what I meant.  Always I
knew that something made you sad." Crying now, she said, "I'm so sorry that
it was me, Daddy; that loving me made you sad.  Love shouldn't ever make us
sad." "But, baby, don't you understand what I'm telling you?  This is
incest, Jess, not the sort of love that is even LEGAL between a father and
a daughter, not to mention anything about morality."

   "Daddy, just before graduation, in my law and politics class, we got
into a huge discussion of incest.  We were discussing victimless crimes and
I said that incest was a victimless crime and that, with birth control, it
was a stupid thing to have as a societal taboo.  Remember when Ruth was
writing the book about how to teach kids about how to stay safe?  How most
of the time people who molest kids are relatives or other people close to
them?  We had talks about that.  It was when I was just about 13 and she
asked me what I knew about how to say something if someone ever touched me
inappropriately.  I said that nobody had, but that sometimes I thought in
my fantasies that you would.  I told her it was because I love you and I
thought that it would feel really good and that it wouldn't weird me out at
all.  So, we talked a lot about how, when people we love are intimate with
us, why is that wrong?  I remember when you and I used to shower together,
daddy.  Remember me standing under your legs and your penis resting on my
head?  It was so much fun, and you were so easy and carefree with me,
daddy. I was just a curious kid, and when I touched it, it grew and then
you got all afraid and I think at that moment, that was the time when you
started building a wall and when you got sad.  I just never quite made that
connection before just now."

   He remembered the moment as though it was yesterday, and he got
gooseflesh on his arms because she was exactly right.  That WAS when he
knew he had to hold himself away.

   "Honey, what happened in your class, about the incest discussion?"

   "Oh, nothing, everyone told me that I'm a freak, but, geez, Daddy, when
you follow the taboo to its logical conclusion, it doesn't wash.  If
relatives don't procreate, there's no risk.  If you raise kids to believe
that they can be safe and share intimacy with those relatives who love them
and that they can always say no without recrimination, what's the big
deal?"

   Her comfort and openness with the subject stunned him.

   "Daddy, if I really thought about it, I could have figured out that I
was the reason you were sad, but I always thought it was something to do
with work because you drive yourself so hard.  I wonder what it would have
been like between us if I had figured it out..."

   He held her trying to take in all that had transpired in the last two
hours of their lives.  She did the same.  The silence between them was
familiar, borne of years of contemplative spaces shared.  He began to feel
some agitation on her part as she stepped back still holding him but
looking into his eyes.  Taller by three inches than her mother, she still
favored her and always seeing his beloved wife in his daughter was
bittersweet.  And, at this moment, he was very glad that Maddy was not here
to witness this discussion.

   In a quiet voice, eyes not moving from his own for a second, Jesse said,
"I know we can't ever bring back the past, Daddy, but you always taught me
that we can be full participants in the creation of our futures.  Will you
talk to me about loving me that way, daddy, and about what you think that
could mean for us if you did?  Or, if we did?"

   "Honey, do you really want to know this?  Honestly, in your soul, do you
really want to know?" His baritone was low, soft, he spoke slowly,
deliberately.  She stood straighter and he felt her strength course through
her.  "Yes, my father, yes, I do."

   Every life has moments to seize, and this was one of Quinn's.  He said
to his daughter, "Then I need to show you, Jesse Margaret.  I need to show
you." He picked her up and carried her out of the garage, through the
backdoor into the kitchen, through the great room and up the stairs, both
flights, to the third floor where the master suite took the entire floor.

   He walked into the open shower, thankful as always for the heated slate
floor.  He put her down and slipped out of his shoes, shucking his shorts
and dripping wet t-shirt and then lifted hers off.  He hit the on switch
for the shower and moved them under the rainwater shower head, grabbing the
shampoo.  He soaped her hair, massaging her scalp, careful to keep soap out
of her eyes.  He didn't look at her entire body yet, only focused on her
head and her face.  His body, however, responded fully, as his staff stood
between them at its full eight inches.  She kept her eyes closed, but her
hands felt him, softly.  She smiled when she took him in her hands.  His
heart soared.

   He backed her directly under the shower and rinsed her long hair, then
turned her to face the shower and began soaping her body.  Finally, he
allowed himself to look at her body.  Her shoulders were well developed
from many hours in the pool.  Her backside made him catch his breath.  Not
a small girl, Jesse reminded him of a strong, a young Amazon.  Her ass was
round and firm, and he immediately had an image of sinking himself deeply
inside her there and gripping at her waist right where her hips flared. 
"Baby, do you have any idea how gorgeous I think you are?" he said as he
soaped her back, running his soapy hands all over her, and between her ass
cheeks, not lingering.

   She felt her father's hands on her and her mind and body raced with
sensation.  She kept breathing to anchor herself, as her imagination wanted
to transport her to what came next.  "Focus, Jesse," she said to herself.
He reached around in front of her with the soap and washed her neck, her
collar bones, and then, slowly, hesitantly, began massaging her breasts. 
Her nipples became rock hard and they ached to be played with.  She leaned
back against him and was clearly aware of her father's manhood at her back.
Between his hands on her breasts now teasing her nipples and his staff at
her bottom, Jesse had a hard time staying upright.

   "Daddy, I think it's my turn now.  You need to have the sweat washed off
of you.  Give me that soap, buster!" She grabbed the soap and facing him,
soaped his chest, which was covered by a light pattern of black hair that
trailed in a fine line down his belly to his manhood.  She was business
like in her task, washing his neck, shoulders, and then moving to his rod.
She was careful yet firm, and she lingered on his staff, loving how smooth
and soft the skin was and how large and hard the organ was.  Her father's
strength, her father's passion, right here in her hands...

   "Daddy, turn around," she said, which brought Quinn back from the
remarkable place to which he had just soared as his daughter soaped his
cock.  He opened his eyes and grinned.  She looked at him wickedly. 
"Daddy! Were you a little bit distracted just then?  Teehee!"

   He laughed and said, "Lookout, sister, I am still your father and I just
may have to take you over my knee!"

   He turned around and she said, with her lips and teeth against his back,
"Would you do that, daddy?  Would you give me a spanking?  I think that I
would like that..."

   When he heard her say that, he backed into the water stream, loudly
saying, "I pronounce us CLEAN and horny!  Let this shower be done!" He hit
the off button and the water stopped.  He grabbed a towel, tossed it to
Jesse, and toweled himself off.  She wasn't quite quick enough, so he began
drying her hair as she knelt to dry her legs.  His mind told him to slow
down, but nearly two decades of bottled up energy fueled his passion.  He
nearly knocked her over and then just picked her up and carried her to his
bed and tossed her down.  She landed laughing and then each of them was
silent, the same thought occurring to each.  "Mom.  I wonder what she would
think, daddy?" "You know, baby, no other woman has ever been in this bed
except your mother.  She is gone, and we are here.  I think that she would
say that we have to find our way.  And she would tell us to do our best. 
Jesse, this is VERY fast.  Are you sure that you want to be here with me in
this way now?"

   "Daddy, being your lover feels natural to me.  That's all I can say. 
You're the most handsome, wonderful, driven, brilliant man I know.  I want
you in all the ways it's possible to have someone.  Please."

   Quinn looked into his daughter's eyes, and held her face in his hand,
stroking it very softly, feeling his hand tremble.  He bent to her lips, so
wanting to taste her, and so afraid to make that which he longed for real,
afraid at the last minute she would flee.  His eyes pooled and she smiled
softly and put her arms around his neck.  "It's okay, daddy, please.  Kiss
me.  I want this." He lowered his lips to hers, whisper soft, a brush,
pounding hearts.  Then, his hand on her face, he kissed her again, slowly
savoring the softness of her skin.  Small sounds came from her or was it
him?  More lips, and his tongue, slowly inside her.  She opened her mouth
more, and pulled him closer.  He could feel her hunger and let more of his
own out.  "She isn't leaving," he told himself.  "You're safe." He moaned
loudly and took her mouth, her lips, her face, wrapping his hand in her
hair, losing himself as she sucked his tongue greedily.  He felt her body
rocking gently as her moans built.  "Oooh, daddy, I ache inside for you,"
she whispered.

   He reluctantly broke away and reached for lotion on his bedside table
and began warming some in his hands then applied it to her skin.  He
concentrated on learning her body in a new way, listening to her sighs,
feeling his way to learn her pleasure.  When he moved up her thighs, he
spread her legs and cupping her mons with his hand and applying pressure,
then lightly pulling on her outer labia, looking at the glistening pearl
nestled inside the inner lips.  She rocked slightly as he touched her. 
"Scoot up on the bed, Jess.  I need to taste my babygirl." "Ooooh, daddy,
please," she murmured as she scooted up with pillows behind her so that she
could spread her legs widely and watch her father.

   Her juices seeped out and he tasted them hungrily, using his tongue to
lap and probe.  He spread her labia again with his fingers and began
focusing on her clitoris, the hood first, licking lightly, teasing.  He
felt her hand in his hair, which was long enough for her to make a fist and
pull him inside her more.  He felt a rush of heat as her hunger unleashed
his last shred of reserve.  He licked and sucked hard, now greedy to feel
her orgasm.  Relentlessly, he lashed her clit with his tongue.  Needing
better access, he wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her flat on
her back then spread her legs wider and lifted her to enable room for his
fingers to penetrate her woman and her anus, which he lubed with spit and
her juices.  As soon as his finger grazed her tiny brown opening, she
bucked and moaned, "DADDY, YES!"

   Crazed by her response, he inserted a finger in her anus and two in her
woman, keeping his lips and tongue firmly on her clitoris.  She bucked
against him as he now finger fucked her fast.  In just seconds, he felt her
body's spasms as her orgasm gripped against his fingers.  He tasted the
gush of her emanation as the bed was drenched.  Her hand in his head pulled
his hair and she screamed and moaned, "YES YES YES DADDDYYYYYY!!!  I'M
CUMMING, DADDY!!!!!"

   As the orgasm subsided, she let go his hair and looked at him with a
glazed expression and said, "DADDY!  FUCK ME!" "Oh yeah, Jesse, you want
this?" He knelt between her legs now with this purple headed cock, teasing
the outside of her woman, sliding just the tip inside, allowing her time to
realize his girth.  She pushed against him HARD and he slid more inside
her. "Daddy, all of it, give me ALL of it!" She spread her legs and pulled
him toward her.  "Oh, gawd, daddy, you're so big.  It hurts!  Please lie on
me, daddy, I need to feel you on top of me!!!"

   She pleaded with him to fuck her and he did as she asked, lying on top
of her, thrusting his huge cock inside her tight body.  She gripped his
arms and wrapped her legs around him.  "Oh geezus, Jesse, so good, you're
so good.  Baby, I'm not going to last very long this time."

   He moved in to kiss her, and when their lips met, she bit his lower lip
so hard, he felt blood in his mouth, which slowed him down a bit.  They
continued to kiss as he moved inside her, coming in her from the top down,
knowing that her G-spot would be most likely to be tickled from that
direction.  He wanted to trigger a vaginal orgasm in his daughter so that
they would cum together.  He fucked with shallow fast motions and listened
to her responses.  "Yes, yes, yes," she said matching his staccato
movement. "OOH, daddy, oooh, something is....oooohhhhh, DADDY," he could
feel the spasms in her Kegel muscles as the hoped-for orgasm built.  The
gripping of her muscles on his staff was more than he could handle.  His
balls got tight, his rhythm went to hell, and he said, "Baby, cum with me,
cum with daddy!"

   "OH GOD, DADDY, so gooooood!" She bucked hard against him as his body
let go spurts and spurts of release.

   She gripped him so tightly, he couldn't move.  They lay panting, and he
could feel the pool of cum between them.  His cock could feel her heart
beating.  He held her to him and again, felt tears release, this time
freely, sobs that soon she shared.  Years of separation and hopelessness
fell away as he felt his daughter, his baby, wrapped around his manhood. 
She felt his weight, his strength, and the magnitude of his vulnerability.
She imagined the isolation he carried all those years and she wept for his
sorrow and now for their joy.  She grabbed a towel left on the bed from
their shower and wiped their faces, still holding him inside her, refusing
to let go.

   She laughed, happily, and kissed him, sweetly, softly, and then each of
them found that wave of passion that would carry them the rest of their
days.  Sweet kisses turned erotic and passionate.  As they kissed, he felt
himself stirring again inside her.  She felt him harden and relaxed her
grip.  She said, "Daddy, I have a favor to ask.  I've never done this
before, but..." She blushed and stopped.  He knew exactly what she wanted.
He said, "Oh, god, little girl, of course, yes!  Roll over."

   She smiled a smiled so wicked and lusty he cracked up.  She rolled to
her belly and he grabbed the lotion with a note to buy some lube later that
day.  He began working the lube into her sweet little tight brown hole....
   


  
Ch. 1 McLeod Family Saga