Author: Knight Of Passion
Title: We Love Lucy - The Complete Collection
Summary: A loving wife opens her heart to her husband, and the two
discover,

   then indulge, a shared lust for their daughter.  Keywords: MF, inc, voy

   ----

   Note From The Knight:

   Because you asked for it - and because searching for the next story can
be tricky when your fingers are sticky ;) - this is the whole saga of
Michael, Becky and their nubile daughter Lucy in one convenient file. 
Enjoy!

   And remember: more feedback = more stories!

   Knight (knight-of-passion@hotmail.co.uk)

   ----

   We Love Lucy - Part One

   I guess we should start with the biographical details, what Salinger
called "that David Copperfield kind of crap".  I'm Michael Lewis, a
commercial artist here in New York.  Fifteen years ago I met and married
Becky Armstrong, my high-school sweetheart, and every day since then I've
fallen a little bit deeper in love with her.  I know it's a little
sickening for those of you who aren't as lucky as I am, but Becky is the
greatest wife in the world: supportive, loving, intelligent and deliciously
sexy with a trim 5'6" body and a pert pair of 34C breasts.  As if that
weren't enough, my art has paid for a large, upmarket home in a desirable
suburb, which I share with Becky and the light of our lives, our
fourteen-year-old daughter Lucy.

   Me?  Well, I'm 6'4", and my mighty schlong reaches to my knees - isn't
that what guys who write stories like this are supposed to say?  In truth,
I'm a half-inch under six feet in height, of medium build (I'm the kind of
bulky guy who has to work out three times a week or face the very real
threat of turning into Homer Simpson).  My penis, since I suppose it's
relevant to the proceedings, is a modest, but thick and meaty, eight
inches.

   Despite our fifteen years of marriage, Becky and I still enjoy a
vigorous sex life - in fact, I think we enjoy a vigorous sex life because
we've been together so long.  In that time, we've developed a bond of trust
that extends all the way to the bedroom.  Becky has always had a strong
kinky streak, a predilection for hot, extreme sex that intensified even
further when Lucy was born.  Perhaps one day I'll recount the story of how
I fucked her on our wedding day, spreading her legs on the back seat of the
rented limo that was taking us from the chapel to Becky's parents' house
for the reception, or the period shortly after Lucy's birth when Becky's
greatest joy was to suck my swollen cock while Lucy suckled at her
beautiful breasts.

   But all of that stuff is straight vanilla compared to what happened
earlier this year.  It started on a warm spring afternoon, the first day
this year when you could believe that he winter was over and summer was
just around the corner.  I had gone into my studio early to finish up a
batch of concept drawings for a new line of cool, fashionable dolls aimed
at pre-teen girls.  I put the finishing touches to the last one at around
2pm, FedExed them over the toy company, and decided that I'd had enough for
one day.  I drove home through the light mid-afternoon traffic with the
window rolled down and some Billy Joel on my car's CD player, and pulled
into my driveway a half-hour later, in a really good mood.

   Imagine my surprise when I opened my front door to find my sexy wife on
her knees, completely naked, looking up at me adoringly.  "Welcome home,
baby!" she sighed happily.  "Can I suck your cock?"

   I laughed and pulled her to her feet, wrapping my arms around her and
kissing her.  "What the hell are you doing?" I asked warmly.

   "I called the studio to ask you what time you'd be home, but they told
me you'd already left.  I thought I'd give you a little 'welcome home'
treat.  You've been working so hard lately..." Her fingers were busily
undoing my belt and tugging down my zipper, then she pulled my semi-erect
dick free of its confines.

   How we made it upstairs to the bedroom I have no idea.  I have a vague
memory of Becky's hands scratching across my chest as she struggled to
remove my shirt, and I definitely recall almost getting my feet tangles in
my trousers and plunging down the staircase head-first, but all I can tell
you for sure is that we ended up in the bedroom, completely naked, kissing
passionately, our hands exploring the others' body.  Finally getting me
where she wanted me, Becky took a step backward and grinned at me.  "Ready
for the ride of your life?" she asked with a deliciously wicked smile.

   Pushing me back onto the edge of the bed, Becky straddled me and kissed
me again.  Our position made it impossible for me to slip inside her, but
the head of my throbbing cock rested happily against her hot little snatch.
Breaking the kiss, Becky cupped her heavy breasts and held them toward my
lips.  "Do you love them?" she asked coyly as I lashed my tongue around her
erect nipples.

   "I do," I breathed huskily.

   "Do you love them as much as you love Lucy's?" Startled by the question
I leaned backward - if my desire had been to gain a certain distance from
my sexy wife, it was a mistake.  As soon as I moved backward, my cock
reared up and Becky hungrily impaled herself on it, my bulbous cock-head
slipping easily into her hot, moist pussy.  "Mmm," she groaned happily. 
"That's what I wanted, baby, right there." She squeezed my thick shaft
tightly, then smiled at me.  "Well?  Do you love my tits more than you love
Lucy's?"

   I gasped in pleasure as she sank a half-inch lower on my dick, and tried
to adopt an innocent expression.  "I d- I don't know, I've never looked."

   "Liar," she said playfully.  "I've seen you looking.  Why wouldn't you?"

   "She's my daughter," I protested.

   "She's my daughter too, and I look."

   "You do?"

   "Of course I do!  You might pretend not to notice, but I've watched Lucy
turn into a sexy young woman.  If you were honest, you'd admit that you've
seen it too."

   "I have," I admitted.

   "I know, and it's okay.  You'd have to be blind not to see it.  Our
daughter's - what's the MTV word, a hottie?"

   "Yeah," I laugh.  "A hottie.  You're so hip."

   "I'm hip enough to know they don't say 'hip' anymore, grandad.  You're,
like, in squares-ville, man."

   "Well, that just proves it.  You wouldn't recognise cool if it came up
and slapped you in the face."

   "I'll show you how cool I am, stud," Becky said, grinding her hips down
onto mine, working my swollen dick deeper inside her hot snatch.  "Pretty
cool?" she asked breathlessly.

   "Yeah," I replied with a grin.  "Pretty damn cool, baby."

   "So...  do you like Lucy's tits more than you like mine?"

   I considered the question - which, if nothing else, should have warned
me I was straying into dangerous territories.  I had only glimpsed Lucy's
full, budding breasts once, when she had emerged from the shower and run
down the hall to her bedroom with only a towel wrapped around her waist,
unaware that her devoted father was kneeling by his bedroom door at the end
of the hall, trying to find the telephone cable.  The vision of her pert,
glistening young titties bouncing down the hallway toward me floated
through my mind, causing my cock to twitch deep inside Becky.

   "Ooh, naughty boy," she cooed happily.  "What are you thinking about?"

   "Nothing," I said hesitantly, but she didn't buy it for a moment.

   "Are you thinking about our baby girl, Mike?  Are you thinking about
anything in particular?" she teased, emphasising the last word with a hard
squeeze of her pussy.

   "Yes," I confessed.  "I was thinking about her tits."

   "You like them?" she asked, scratching her fingernails down my chest as
she squeezed my dick again.

   "God yes," I moaned.

   "Have you seen them?  Naked, I mean, in all their glory?"

   "Once," I replied.  "Only once."

   "Aw, that's too bad, baby.  I get to see them all the time."

   "What do you mean?"

   "Later, baby," Becky said, leaning down to kiss me.  She placed her
hands on my shoulders, forcing me flat on the bed, and began to ride my
slick cock with her usual enthusiasm and single-mindedness.  I responded
eagerly, shifting my hips to meet her thrusts, driving my tumescent dick
into her hot hole with increasing passion.  We fucked eagerly, our hands
clasped together, our bodies moving in a sinuous wave that swept my cock
deep inside her willing snatch again and again.  Suddenly, Becky paused,
and leaned down to kiss me.

   "Do you want to see something?" Becky asked me.

   "I can pretty much see everything I like already," I said with a grin,
but Becky mock-frowned at me and stood up.  My cock slipped from her moist
snatch with an audible pop, but my groan of frustration was soon
interrupted by my curiosity.  What the hell was so important that Becky
wanted to interrupt our fucking?

   My curiosity was aroused even further when I watched Becky cross our
bedroom to the large closet which stored her clothes.  She pulled open the
double doors, and turned to me.  "Come and look," she said, and I hastened
to comply, unable to read the expression on her delicate features.  I
crossed the floor and looked into the closet.

   "Get closer," Becky insisted, and I stepped forward until I was actually
standing inside the closet.  "Do you see it?" she asked in a tremulous
voice.

   I squinted in the darkness, trying to understand what Becky was showing
me.  The only thing I could see in the closet, besides the seemingly
endless racks of my beautiful wife's clothes, was a tiny chink of light,
old boxes, and a large collection of shoes - a chink of light?  I thought,
and leaned in for a closer look.  Sure enough, between the hanging dresses
and coats was a tiny spark of light in the back of the closet.  Bending
closer, I realised that a small hole had been drilled through the wall. 
Placing my eye against it, I had a clear view of Lucy's room - her dresser,
her desk and her bed, complete with Lucy's prized collection of stuffed
animals.  For a moment I was confused, then realisation struck me like a
physical blow.  "I get to see them all the time," she had said...

   "You spy on her?" I whispered hoarsely.

   "All the time," Becky replied in a sexy moan.  "Every day she runs home
from school, throws her bag on the bed, and strips off her clothes.  She's
our daughter, Mike, and she's so beautiful, so perfectly beautiful... 
Sometimes she runs her hands over her body - other times, she lays on her
bed and masturbates properly.  I watch her do it, and I..."

   "You what?" I ask, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her
toward me.  "You touch yourself?"

   "Yes," Becky hissed, her cheeks colouring.  "I look at our baby girl and
I make myself cum.  I watch her perfect little body, and I feel - God help
me, Mike, I feel so hot I just need to cum."

   "Why haven't you told me this before?"

   "Why?  It's not the easiest thing to talk about, is it?  'Hi baby, how
was your day, by the way, I want to fuck our daughter, what do you want for
dinner?'"

   I let her words hang in the air.  "You want to fuck her?"

   She hung her head, refusing to meet my eyes.  "I don't know what I want,
baby.  She's our daughter.  I shouldn't -"

   "But you do," I pressed.  "Tell me.  You want to kiss her?  You want to
taste her body?  Do you want to feel her tongue on your pussy?" Becky
groaned and leaned back against the doorframe.  Her body still slick with
sweat from our earlier fucking, she resembled nothing in the world so much
as a fallen angel, a nymph who had willingly surrendered herself to the
darkest lusts.  "Is that what you want, baby?" I asked, moving beside her,
stroking my fingertips across her stomach, kissing her neck and throat. 
"You want to feel Lucy's tongue against your hot slit, and her fingers deep
inside you?" I stroked lower, my fingers trailing delicate patterns on her
skin.  "You want to feel her lips around your nipple, just like when she
was little?  You want to touch her, feel her, stroke her?"

   "I want..." she breathed.

   "What, baby?  What do you want?"

   She shivered, and fixed me with her sultry gaze.  "I want to watch you
fuck her.  I want to lick your cum out of her little virgin slit." Her eyes
burning with lust, she dropped to her knees and grabbed my swelling cock.
"I want you to make her worship this dick just I do," Becky hissed.  "I
want to prepare her tender young body for your giant dick, and I want to
clean her up after you've filled her with your hot spunk."

   I knew it was wrong, and I knew it was dangerous, but I couldn't stop
myself.  My beautiful wife's taboo desire for our sexy, virginal daughter
was too much for my willpower, and I felt myself getting sucked into her
dark fantasy.  "Is that really what you want?" I whispered, slipping my
fingers between her thighs.  "You want me to slip my dick into our little
girl?  You want me to take her cherry?"

   "Fuck yes.  I want her to cum on her daddy's fat cock."

   I tried to hide my shock at the intensity my wife's incestuous desires.
I didn't know how we'd got into this situation, and feeling the heat of
Becky's skin and pussy, I didn't really care.  My conscious mind might have
protested, but my conscious was well and truly over-ruled by my libido.  I
slipped my fingers deeper into Becky, my fingertips stroking her G-spot. 
"Do you want to -" I began, but she interrupted me before I could tease her
further.

   "Goddamn it, Mike," Becky groaned, "if you don't get that dick inside me
right now, I'm going to fucking burst!"

   Well, who was I disagree?  In tune with my wife's need for hot,
unrestrained sex, I pulled her to the bed, and bent her over, her
beautiful, round ass high in the air.  Without hesitation, I grabbed her
hips and pounded my cock into her tight hole.  She gasped, surprised and
pleased by the force of the fucking she was receiving.  Feeling her pussy
contract around my dick, I thrust as hard as I could, and leaned forward.

   "Can you see it, baby?" I whispered, my lips brushing her ear, my cock
throbbing and insistent inside her tight snatch.  "I'd fuck Lucy for you,
I'd pound that perfect cunt and let her juices drip down onto your face,
baby.  Can you taste her?  Can you taste your baby girl's hot snatch?"

   My words worked their magic, and Becky forced herself back on me, her
beautiful ass slapping against me as a cry of ecstasy tore free of her
throat.  Her fingers clawed at the bed, her face pressed into the blankets,
her ass high and quivering as I drove myself into her, ever deeper, our
thoughts afire with images of our beautiful, perfect daughter.

   Finally, my passion overcame me, and, with a series of violent,
lust-fuelled thrusts, I filled my beautiful wife's tight snatch with surge
after surge of hot spunk.  It felt as though a single orgasm was burning
through both of us, uniting our bodies in desire and ecstasy.  Finally, as
the last tremors faded, we collapsed onto the bed, my arms protectively
cradling Becky against my chest.  How long we lay there, I do not know - it
was as if time had stopped.

   Our reverie was only broken when the sound of front door slamming echoed
through the house.  "Mom?" came a distant voice from downstairs.  "Dad, I'm
home!"

   "Lucy," Becky whispered, her eyes still closed, her body still
trembling. I pulled the blanket from the bed and covered Becky, kissed her
lightly on the lips, and, grabbing my discarded robe, left the bedroom.  It
would not do, I decided, to have Lucy burst in on us while daddy's sperm
was leaking from mommy's well-fucked hole and mommy was moaning the name of
her teenage daughter.

   Well, not yet, at least...

   We Love Lucy - Part Two

   The problem with real life, I've often thought, is that it's not enough
like a story.  Take my recent experience with my beloved wife, for example:
I had left Becky half-asleep on our bed, my spunk drooling from her pussy,
whispering the name of our daughter Lucy, the subject of my wife's
incestuous fantasies - well, the subject of our incestuous fantasies, I
suppose, since I could hardly claim to be an unwilling participant.  I had
left Becky alone, drifting in a blissful post-orgasmic glow, because the
object of our desires, our gorgeous daughter Lucy, had just arrived home
from school and was running up the stairs toward us.  She hadn't burst in
on us while I was deep inside her mother, nor had she opened the door while
Becky was moaning her name, over and over.  The laws of narrative therefore
demanded that she be listening outside the door, reckless with desire, her
fingers inside her white, virginal panties...

   Tell the truth: you expect Lucy to be on her knees sometime in the next
couple of paragraphs, overcome with lust, sucking her daddy's thick cock.
It's okay - in a way, I kind of expected it too.  That's the trouble with
stories: they make you think you know what's going to happen next.  And

   they're usually wrong.

   On the upside, stories are never quite as interesting - or enjoyable -
as the real thing.

   Closing the bedroom door behind me, I crept along the hall to the top of
the stairs, and there, coming toward me, I saw Lucy.  Perhaps it was just
the incestuous thoughts implanted in my mind by Becky, or simply the
novelty of being in a robe in the middle of the day, my cock still moist
with Becky's hot juices, but something made me examine Lucy's body closely.
She was a shade over five feet tall, and had inherited her mother's
delicacy and grace.  When she was smaller, I used to call her my fairy
princess, she was so light on her feet - now, as Lucy approached her
fifteenth birthday, the fairy princess had been replaced by a lush, nubile
nymph.  Her long dark hair was worn up in a simple ponytail.  Her body,
covered by the short pleated skirt and white blouse that served as a school
uniform, was a thing of ripe curves and firm, budding flesh.  Her best
features, without a doubt, were her breasts, as large as her mother's but
even more pert and firm.  I would have given anything, right at that
moment, to have torn the shirt from her body and worshipped those beautiful
tits with my tongue and lips...

   I cleared my throat, pushing away the vivid image, and the hot rush of
desire which accompanied it.  "Hi baby," I said in what I hoped was a
casual tone.

   Lucy looked up at me, and smiled.  "Hey daddy, what are you -" She
looked at me, and rolled her eyes.  "Oh."

   "Oh what?"

   "I was going to ask how come you're home in the middle of the day, but
there's only one reason you're in your robe."

   "And what would that be?" I asked, dimly aware that my cock, so recently
drained, was stirring slightly.  "Would you care to enlighten me?"

   "Gro-tacious, daddy," she said, then stuck out her tongue at me. 
Honestly, where the hell do they get these words?  "Can you give me a ride
to the mall?  I'm supposed to meet Bethany in half an hour."

   "Why didn't you just go straight from school?" I asked.

   "Dressed like this?" she said incredulously, indicating her adorable
uniform.  "Gro-tacious.  Come on, daddy, it'll only take you a few minutes,
and you kind of owe me for this disgusting reminder that my parents... 
ugh! I could be emotionally scarred!" She shivered in mock-disgust, and I
couldn't help but laugh.

   "Alright, Lucy, I surrender.  Give me ten minutes to get showered, and
I'll take you."

   "Thank you, daddy," Lucy said, stretching up on tiptoe to give me a
perfunctory kiss on the cheek, then skipped lightly along the hall to her
room, closing the door firmly behind her.  I stood in the hallway for a
long moment, wrestling with my conscience, my imagination conjuring up
image after image of my beautiful teen daughter in her room.  What was it
Becky had said, when she showed me her peep-hole?  "Every day she runs home
from school, throws her bag on the bed, and strips off her clothes.  She's
our daughter, Mike, and she's so beautiful, so perfectly beautiful..."

   Call me weak.  Call me a fool.  Call me an idiot for standing in the
hallway for so long - the next thing I knew, I had crept back into my room,
pushed the door closed quietly behind me, and moved over to the closet. 
The doors were still open, following my wife's earlier revelation.  I
glanced once toward Becky, but she was fast asleep on the bed, her chest
rising and falling in a regular rhythm, covered only by the thin sheet I
had draped over her.  The peep-hole drilled through the back of the closet
was exactly at Becky's eye-level, so I had to bend over slightly to see
through it clearly.  I peeked through, a nervous flutter in my the pit of
my stomach, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

   For a moment, I could see nothing except for Lucy's room.  Her desk,
loaded with textbooks and folders full of school work; the dresser, along
with it's scattered collection of cosmetics and strange creams; Lucy's bed,
complete with a baby-pink duvet, covered with her extensive collection of
stuffed animals.  All in all, it was the sort of room you'd imagine any
fourteen year-old teen being proud to call home.

   The image of wholesome family life didn't last long, however.  My breath
caught in my throat as Lucy walked into view.  She had wasted no time in
throwing her school bag into a corner and pulling off her crisp white
blouse.  She walked to the dresser, her back to me, dressed in only her
short skirt and a white bra.  Reaching behind her, she unclipped the
well-filled bra, and let it fall to the ground.  A wave of excitement
washed over me as she turned around running her fingers casually up her
stomach, and cupping a pair of breasts that were everything I had imagined
they would be: full, pert, and firm, with nipples every bit as large as her
mother's.  I could feel my cock harden and swell as Lucy tweaked those
beautiful nipples between her thumb are forefinger, making them hard and
erect.  I leaned against the wall, trying to get a clearer view through the
tiny peep-hole, and was rewarded by Lucy raising her arms high above her
head in a tired stretch, her wonderful tits swaying beautifully with the
movement.

   I watched, mesmerised, as my beautiful daughter deftly undid the button
holding her skirt up, and let it fall to the floor, revealing a pair of
virginal white panties, so tight that I could see the tempting bulge of her
vulva.  A hot rush of excitement and shame ran through my body, and my cock
twitched, hardening further.  My arousal was undeniable, and the quiet
voice of reason which reminded that this vision of nubile loveliness was
not only fourteen years of age but my only daughter, seemed to be
noticeably absent.  Daughter or not, Lucy was beautiful, combining all of
her mother's best attributes with an air of simple, innocent sexiness which
I found intoxicating.  When Lucy brushed her slender fingertips up the
outside of her thighs, then reached around to firmly squeeze the cheeks of
her ass, I thought there was no way I could possibly be more aroused. 
Then, when Lucy slipped a her right hand inside the front of her panties
and groaned happily, I realised how wrong I had been.

   Enough was enough.  Unable to contain my rising desire, and suddenly
fearful of being caught in such a compromising position, I cinched my robe
around my waist, trying to ignore the ridiculous tent caused by by
throbbing cock.  Checking to make sure Becky was still fast asleep, I crept
quietly from the bedroom, and got myself under a shower as fast as I
possibly could.  With the hot water running down my body and the glass door
steaming up rapidly, I finally acknowledged the burning lust with inflamed
me and began to touch my tumescent prick.  A half-dozen strokes were all it
took to unleash a series of thick spurts, images of Lucy's perfect teenage
breasts and flawless, panty-clad bottom floating through my mind.

   I lingered in the shower for ten long minutes, letting the hot water
wash away my sense of guilt at masturbating while thinking about my
beautiful daughter.

   As I left the bathroom, a towel wrapped around my waist and my robe
hanging open over the top, I almost collided with Lucy, now dressed in
jeans and a baby pink Hello Kitty T-shirt that would have looked adorably
sweet if it had been two sizes larger and hadn't exposed quite so much of
her full, round breasts.

   "What are you doing?" I asked, a little too quickly.

   "I'm putting my laundry in the hamper," she replied, holding up a wad of
discarded clothing as evidence.  "Hurry up, daddy, Bethany's going to kill
me if I'm late."

   "Alright, alright.  Go and get a piece of fruit - I don't want you
stuffing yourself with mall food, Lucy," I said patiently, forestalling her
objection, "so get some fruit and go wait in the car.  The keys are on the
table in the hall.  I'll be two minutes."

   Grinning impishly, Lucy pressed the tangle of clothes into my hands, and
lightly skipped off down the hallway.  I stared dumbly at the clothing,
still warm from her body.  I stepped back into the bathroom, and, without
thinking, pulled the white shirt from the wad and threw it in the hamper. I
unwrapped the skirt, and mu pulse quickened.  There were Lucy's white
panties, the very ones she'd been wearing a few minutes ago when I'd spied
on her through the peephole.  I traced my fingers lovingly over the soft
fabric, letting the other clothes fall to the floor as I turned the panties
over and over in my hands.  On the thin cotton gusset was a large damp
mark, evidence, if evidence were needed, of my daughter's indulgence in her
room.  I groaned, half in desire and half in frustration, and I could feel
my cock hardening for the third time in an hour.  These are my daughter's
panties, the ones she wore when she was rubbing her little pussy, when she
was fingering her hot little slit...

   I shook my head.  I had no time.  Lucy wouldn't wait in the car for long
before she came back into the house to see what was keeping me, and I
really didn't want her to walk in on her daddy jacking off, with his little
girl's panties wrapped around his throbbing prick.  Besides, I had a better
idea...

   I took the panties, and, after a second thought, picked up Lucy's bra
too, the delicate white one with the pink trim.  Peeking out of the
bathroom to make sure the coast was clear, I hurried back to my bedroom.  I
pushed the door open quietly, but Becky was still fast asleep on the bed. I
desperately wished to be there with her when she woke from her dreams of
her daughter, but, since I couldn't, I thought I'd leave her with the next
best thing.  I placed Lucy's bra and panties on the bed next to Becky's
head, knowing that she would find them when she awoke, and then I dressed
quickly and left the room.

   The drive to the mall was the longest and most dangerous of my life. 
How I managed to negotiate the late-afternoon traffic while stealing
frequent glances at Lucy's magnificent breasts, barely constrained by the
pink T-shirt.  I even encouraged her to play with the radio during the
twenty-minute journey, seeking out pounding, repetitive songs that she
seemed to love, just so she would lean forward to the centre console to
tweak the dials, offering me a view of her deep, tempting cleavage.  At one
point, she found something she liked and clutched at the handbrake in
excitement, her fingers wrapping around the rubberised handle tightly, and
I almost drove through the window of a downtown deli.

   It was an enormous relief when we arrived at the mall.  Lucy kissed me
on the cheek, thanked me for giving her a ride, and promised to call my
cell phone when she needed to be picked up.  She slammed the door and
skipped off to find her friend Bethany, and I leaned back in my chair,
exhaling slowly.  This situation was getting out of control.  Stamping on
the accelerator and pulling out of the parking lot, I rolled the windows
down and cranked up the volume on the CD player.  I needed to clear my
head; I needed to forget Lucy.

   I was feeling much better when, a half-hour later, I pulled into my
driveway.  The afternoon air was warm, and the streets were filled with the
sights and sounds of normal families doing normal family things.  Perhaps
my desire for my daughter was just a passing thing: a fantasy that had
somehow got under my skin.  I breathed deeply.  It was over now.  Things
were back to normal.

   I even managed to maintain an air of normality when I entered the house
and found Becky in the lounge, her hair in a state of post-coital disarray,
my robe wrapped around her tightly.

   "Hi," I said, surprised.

   Without a word, Becky smiled wickedly and opened her robe.  Underneath,
she was wearing only a bra and panties - and then I realised what i was
seeing, and my grin matched hers.  She was wearing Lucy's bra and panties,
the white pair with the delicate pink trim that I had left on the bed by
Becky's sleeping form.  They were a little tight on her, but Becky's
youthful figure was close enough to Lucy's that the slight bulge of her
breasts escaping the bra, or the prominence of her labia against the thing
cotton of the panties were sluttishly alluring.  "They were a lovely
surprise," Becky said, slowly moving toward me.

   "I'm glad," I reply, feeling my desire rising once again.  Screw normal:
I'm married to a dirty slut, and I couldn't be happier.

   "Did you know her panties were wet?"

   "Yes," I admitted.  "I thought you'd like them."

   "I did, Mike.  I really did." She took another step closer.

   "What did you do when you woke up?" I asked innocently.

   "I saw her panties, and her bra, and I knew that you'd left them there
for me.  I picked them up, and I..."

   "What, darling?" I asked.

   " I smelled them, Mike, and I licked them, and I made myself cum while I
tasted our little girl's juices.  Then I put them on, and it was like I
could feel her tits against mine, and her pussy too.  Her juices were
mixing with mine, Mike, and I loved it so much...  does that make me a
whore?"

   "Yes," I said, knowing instinctively what my beautiful wife wanted to
hear.  She stepped forward again, now just an arm's length from me.

   "I know it does," she confessed, her eyes downcast.  "I want to be a
whore." Another step forward.  "I'm just a bad little girl who wants to be
her daddy's little slut."

   I groaned with desire, and reached for her.  "What do you want your
daddy to do, Becky?"

   She playfully slapped my arm.  "My name isn't Becky, silly daddy."

   "It isn't?"

   "Of course not!  It's Lucy!" Her words exploded in my head.  I stood
there, motionless and silent, as Becky skipped over to the couch and threw
herself onto it, the robe wide open and hanging from her shoulders, her
legs apart, sucking one finger girlishly.  "Are you alright, daddy?" she
asked.

   "I'm fine, Be- uh, Lucy."

   "Good, daddy.  Are you going to come over here and keep me company?"

   I complied, unthinking, with her request.  I sat down next to her and
reached for her body, my hand slipping around her waist.  For a long time
we kissed, our tongues darting in and out of each other's mouths.  Finally,
Becky broke the kiss and grinned happily.  "I'm so lucky to have such a
nice daddy," she breathed sexily, tracing her fingernails down my chest. 
Deftly, she undid the buttons of my shirt, scratching me lightly across my
chest and stomach.  Then she turned her attentions to my belt, her nimble
fingers undoing my trousers and forcing them down around my knees, freeing
my rampant dick.  She wrapped her fingers around it and, without
hesitation, began to jack me off.  I kissed her again, my fingers exploring
her body, rubbing and squeezing her generous breasts, rubbing her hot
snatch through the thin gusset of Lucy's panties.

   "Daddy, are you going to fuck me?" Becky asked me, her eyes wide in
mock-innocence.

   "Yes, Lucy," I growled as she squeezed my dick harder.  "Your daddy's
going to fuck you.  Do you want it?"

   "Oh, yes, daddy, I want it more than anything.  I've always wanted you,
ever since I was little.  Please, don't wait any more.  Do it to me, daddy.
Do it to me." I slid off the couch and onto the floor, between her
beautiful, outstretched legs.  I stroked my fingertips up her thighs,
pulling her hips forward until they were at the edge of the couch,
perfectly presenting her body to my throbbing cock.  I hooked my fingers in
the waistband of her panties, but Becky swatted my hand and pouted.  "No,
daddy, leave them on.  I want to wear them while you fuck me." She pulled
them aside, revealing her slick, willing snatch, and spread her legs even
wider.  Without hesitation, unable and unwilling to control my basest
desires, I thrust my penis into her.  She gasped in pleasure and shock,
then shivered ecstatically and moaned, "Oh, daddy!"

   This was never going to be a long, sensual encounter.  Aroused past
rational thought, we were like two animals in heat, desperate for release.
I pounded into her, deeper and harder with each thrust, and Becky, her face
a mask of ecstasy, raised her hips to meet every thrust.  The air was thick
with the smell of our sex, and our shared incestuous fantasy had fuelled
our lust for each other.  Again and again I drove my thick, relentless
prick inside her, each thrust forcing a gasp of pleasure from her lips. 
Finally, her pussy clenching in the first dizzying rush of her orgasm,
Becky fixed me with her hot gaze.  "Do it to me, daddy," Becky hissed
through gritted teeth.  "Make your little girl a woman."

   I could contain myself no longer.  With one final, violent thrust, I
hammered my cock into her moist snatch, and spurt after spurt of thick,
creamy jizz splashed inside her.  She groaned and thrashed as her orgasm
tore through her body, her hard nipples straining against the thing
material of Lucy's bra, her body trembling with the ferocity of her desire.

   Finally, utterly drained, my cock slipped from my wife's beautiful
snatch, leaving an oozing trail of hot cum across her glistening lips.  She
released her hold on Lucy's tight white panties, and they fell back across
her pussy, immediately becoming transparent as they soaked up the spicy
mixture of our juices.

   I looked up to meet Becky's gaze.  Her face was flushed, and she wore a
broad grin.  "You just fucked your daughter, Mike.  How did it feel?"

   "Amazing, baby," I groaned happily, leaning forward to kiss her.  "Just
amazing."

   "I'm glad," she replied, then got to her feet and strolled away toward
the shower.  "It was a good beginning, wasn't it?"

   "Beginning?" I called after her, too drained and exhausted to move.

   "Oh, yes, daddy," she said, pausing in the doorway to look back my. 
"Fantasising about fucking your little girl is one thing - but reality is
going to blow your mind."

   "Are you serious?" I asked, incredulously.

   "Oh, I've never been more serious in my life, mister.  Close your eyes,
and get some rest.  We've got some big plans to make."

   We Love Lucy - Part Three

   How are you supposed to slip back into your usual life when something
extraordinary happens to you?

   It's a simple enough question.  When your world changes, how are you
supposed to change it back?  How, for example, do you fuck your beautiful
wife while she is wearing your teenage daughter's underwear, sharing your
darkest fantasies about savouring the tastes and sensations of her virginal
body, and then shower and change and go on with your normal, mundane
existence?

   How Becky and I got through the next few days, I have no idea.  At
first, we were almost delirious with lust and guilt - slightly more lust on
Becky's part, slightly more guilt on mine.  The most innocent remark, the
most casual contact with Lucy, would be enough to get our hearts pounding.
To this day, I can't remember how many times we screwed each other over the
next week or so, but it was enough to make Becky walk like a cowboy by the
time we'd finished.

   Gradually, though, the memory of our incestuous fantasy began to fade. I
had no idea what Becky's comment about "big plans" had meant, but a part of
me was glad that we had descended no further into that dark, forbidden
world.  Instead, we satisfied ourselves with spying through the peephole,
usually with Becky on her knees, her lips massaging my tumescent prick as I
watched Lucy change her clothes.  Okay, it's not exactly The Waltons, but
at least we were limiting ourselves to a little harmless voyeurism.

   On a bright, cloudless Saturday, a little more than two weeks after the
incident with Lucy's underwear, Becky took our daughter to the mall to buy
some clothes, a strange females-only practice involving something called a
"summer wardrobe".  I spent the day around the house, taking care of a
handful of maintenance jobs I'd been putting off since Christmas, and
setting up a special little treat for my beautiful wife.  I had barely
finished putting my tools away when Becky's car pulled up in the driveway
and the two women in my life skipped up the path carrying a half-dozen bags
each.

   I greeted them at the door, and listened patiently to Lucy's excited
description of every article of clothing she'd seen in the entire mall. 
Becky busied herself in the kitchen, preparing her speciality, Mamma
Armstrong's Unauthentic Lasagne which, despite Becky's mother's resolutely
non-Italian origins, was wonderful.  We chatted as she cooked, and I poured
her a glass of her favourite Californian merlot.  We ate in the dining
room, swapping jokes and telling stories, enjoying each others' company.

   After dinner, we settled in the lounge, chatting amiably about work and
school, and generally catching up after a typically busy week.

   "Well," I asked at length.  "What would you two ladies like to do this
evening?"

   "I might just go hang out in my room, study a bit," said Lucy, but Becky
frowned.

   "We see little enough of you as it is, young lady.  C'mon, your studies
can wait til tomorrow, why don't you relax tonight?  It is Saturday, after
all.  What would you like to do?" she asked.

   "It's okay, mommy -" Lucy began, but her mother had clearly made her
mind up.

   "Spending time with your elderly parents isn't so bad, is it?" she
asked, and Lucy shook her head.

   "Not so bad," she conceded with a cheeky smile.

   "Well, then.  Let's do something together.  Something fun.  What do you
do when you stay over at Bethany's house?  Or Clare's?"

   "Well, uh..." replied Lucy thoughtfully, nibbling her lower lip.  "We do
make-up and stuff.  Sometimes we give each other facials."

   "Oh," said Becky with a wicked grin, "I'm sure your daddy would love to
give you a facial, sweetie." I spluttered into my wine glass, my cheeks
colouring.  Becky looked at me with an expression of artful innocence.

   "I don't think so," I managed to croak, trying to banish the image of
Lucy's pretty face streaked with splashes of her daddy's incestuous seed.
"I wouldn't know where to start." Lucy frowned in thought once more, while
Becky shot me a sultry look and licked her lips.  I grinned sheepishly, and
she chuckled.

   "What?" demanded Lucy.  "What are you doing?"

   "Nothing, sweetie," Becky replied.  "I'm just teasing your daddy.  I
don't think his big clumsy fingers could cope with a facial.  What else do
you do?"

   "My friends and I play truth or dare, sometimes.  That's pretty fun."

   "Truth or dare?" I said.  "I haven't played that since high school.  I'm
game."

   "That's decided, then," said Becky.  "Mike, would you pour me another
glass?  Oh, and I guess Lucy can have one too." I glanced at her, but she
smiled winningly, and held out her glass.  "If you want one, sweetie?"

   "Okay, mommy," said Lucy eagerly, and I moved to the kitchen, filling
three glasses with the plum-coloured merlot.  I hesitated for a moment,
then swallowed half of mine and drained the remains of the bottle into the
glass.  I had no idea what Becky was planning, but I was certain I would
face it better if I'd had a glass or two.  By the time I returned, the two
women in my life had made themselves comfortable on the couch.  I handed
them each a glass, and we all took a sip.

   "Do you like it, sweetie?" Becky asked Lucy as the teenage girl licked a
stray droplet from her lip.

   "Yeah," came the reply.  "It takes like berries.  And vanilla?"

   "We've got a naturally refined palate here," I joked to Becky, and Lucy
quirked a curious eyebrow at me.  "I just mean you've got a very developed
sense of taste, honey," I said.

   "Drink up, sweetie," Becky encouraged.  "Wine is one of the best things
about being an adult." Lucy obliging took a larger mouthful.  "Good.  So,
truth or dare.  Who goes first?"

   The first few rounds of the game passed peacefully enough.  Becky
eschewed questions and asked for dares without hesitation, including
dancing around the room wiggling her butt "like J-Lo", as Lucy demanded,
then did a very sexy rendition of Marilyn Monroe's "Happy Birthday Mr. 
President" routine; Lucy favoured us with an off-key rendition of a pop
song I didn't recognise, and admitted she would rather kiss Brad Pitt than
Orlando Bloom; and I allowed Lucy to apply a wax strip to my shin, only for
her to pull it off savagely, tearing out a handful of my hairs by the root,
then was forced to confess that I watched American Idol late at night when
everyone else is asleep.  We drank more wine, answered more questions,
thought up increasingly silly things for each to do, and generally enjoyed
ourselves as any other wholesome all-American family might do.

   Eventually, it was Becky's turn once again, and she smiled wickedly. 
"Dare," she decided .  Lucy considered for a long moment, theatrically
drawing out the moment, then smiled at her.

   "I dare you to kiss daddy," she said.

   "Such a dire punishment," Becky replied, and leaned over, brushing her
lips against mine.  "Satisfied?"

   "No!" Lucy protested.  "Not like that.  A movie kiss, with your tongue."
I raised my eyebrows at Becky, who merely grinned and nodded eagerly.  I
leaned in toward her, and if a movie kiss was what Lucy wanted, a movie
kiss was what Lucy got: our lips meet in an open, hungry exchange, our
tongues darting in and out of each other's mouths.  Becky has always been a
wonderful kisser, and, over the years, I've picked up more than a few
tricks that delight her.  At length, I leaned back, and shot a glance at
Lucy, who was watching us with shining eyes and an expression of utter
fascination.  "Was that what you had in mind?" I asked her, and she nodded
mutely.

   "Good," said Becky, running her hand through her hair then taking a long
sip of wine.  "Now, whose turn is it?  Lucy: truth or dare?"

   "Uh..." she frowned in thought, then grinned happily.  "Dare."

   "Well, I guess it's only fair if I dare you to kiss your daddy," Becky
said coolly.

   "A movie kiss?" Lucy asked sceptically, and her mother nodded.  "Uh, I
don't know if -"

   "If you don't want to, we can stop playing," I said hastily, blind-sided
by Becky's suggestion, but that only seemed to make up Lucy's mind for her.
She got to her feet and crossed over to me, then knelt by the side of the
armchair.  Slowly, she ran the fingers of her right hand through my hair,
and leaned in close.  Our lips touched, and the contact was electric.  I
slid my arms around her waist and pulled her deeper into the kiss, thrilled
by the illicit touch, carried away by the sweet perfection of her teenage
mouth.  Damn, but my baby girl tasted of merlot and ripe cherries, and I
knew at that moment that I was lost.

   After what seemed like a lifetime, Lucy broke the kiss with a final
brush of her tongue against my top lip.  She leaned back on her heels and
smiled happily.  "I did it."

   "You certainly did," Becky agreed, her face flushed with desire. 
Knowing her fantasies as I did, I could only imagine how aroused she had
become during our kiss.  "Was it nice, sweetie?"

   "Yes," Lucy said quickly, then giggled.  "I mean, it's only the second
time I've ever done it, and daddy's a lot nicer than Lewis Abernathy."

   "You kissed Lewis Abernathy?" I asked incredulously, then caught myself.
"Uh, I mean, that's okay, honey.  I'm glad you liked it."

   "Am I a good kisser, daddy?" she asked softly, and I swear I heard Becky
give a long, low moan of desire.

   "Are you kidding?  You're the best!" I exclaimed, pulling her close and
planting a sloppy, but strictly paternal, kiss on her moist lips.

   "Hey, you two, knock that off or I'll get jealous," interrupted Becky
playfully, swatting Lucy's butt.  "It's daddy's turn now: truth or dare,
stud?"

   "Truth," I decided, unwilling to surrender myself entirely to the
perverted desires of my beautiful wife.  As thrilled as I was by the
unexpected kiss and the sexual frisson in the room, and as hungry as I was
for my daughter's perfect teenage body, there was still a small part of my
mind advising caution.  If Becky looked irritated at my hesitant choice, it
was quickly replaced by an mischievous expression.  She got to her feet,
and instructed Lucy to do the same.  They both stood in front of me, and,
without warning, Becky pulled open the front of her dress.  Her black bra
was trimmed with lace, and her breasts were straining against the fabric.
"Whose tits do you like better, Mike, mine or Lucy's?" I shook my head,
trying to think of something light-hearted that would get me out of this
situation, but Becky anticipated me.  "He can't make a fair decision if he
can't see yours, sweetie," she said to Lucy.  "Why don't you show him?"

   Without hesitation, Lucy grasped the hem of her top, and pulled it up,
exposing her beautiful teenage breasts, so pert and firm that her white
lacy bra was a mere decoration.  They were almost identical in size and
shape to her mother's.  "I, uh..." I said, then cleared my throat.  "Uh, do
I have to answer?"

   "Yes," said Becky forcefully.  "And just so Lucy doesn't get an unfair
advantage because of her sexy new bra, I think you should touch as well as
look."

   "I don't think -"

   "C'mon, daddy, you have to," Lucy insisted.  "Don't be so lame."

   Turning my attention first to my wife, I ran my fingertips gently up her
flat stomach, then around the beautiful globes of her tits.  I squeezed
gently, feeling their resilience, teasing her nipples with the very tips of
my middle fingers.

   "Okay, I think that's enough," Becky said with a smile.  "Now try
Lucy's."

   I'm strangely proud that my hands barely trembled as I reached for Lucy.
As I had with her mother, I brushed my fingertips gently over the smooth,
unblemished skin of her stomach, rising, inch by inch, to her pert,
youthful breasts.  Lucy took a short, sharp breath, closing her eyes as I
softly, slowly, stroked the underside of her breasts.  One touch, one
gentle motion, was all I could do - I yearned to squeeze them tight, just
the way her mother likes her tits to be handled, but I couldn't.  If I did,
there would be no way back.  No way back at all.

   Christ, I wanted her badly.  I reached out, upward, my fingers slowly
encircling those perfect orbs, ready to worship them "Whose do you like
better, daddy?" Lucy asked softly, and I looked up to meet her sultry gaze.

   "I like - I like them both the same.  It's a draw.  You're both
perfect." I didn't move my hands.  I didn't touch her again, but I didn't
lower them either.  I was frozen, caught between desire for this perfect
nymph, and the fear of what would happen if I surrendered.

   "Well," said Becky, her voice little more than a whisper in the
oppressive silence.  "It's getting late.  Perhaps it's time for bed."

   Her gaze still locked on mine, Lucy nodded once, and knelt in front of
me, slipping her arms around my waist.  The double meaning of my wife's
words hung in the air, but Lucy seemed oblivious.  I responded to her hug,
wrapping her up in my arms.  "Goodnight, daddy," Lucy breathed, as I held
her tight young body against me.  The air crackled with a sexual charge. 
There was no doubt about it: we were both thinking the same thing.  Lucy,
her eyes half-closed, leaned toward me, her moist lips parting in open
invitation.

   "Goodnight, sweetie," I stammered, awkwardly kissing her on the
forehead. Lucy took a half-step back, glancing at her mother for
reassurance, but Becky met her daughter's questioning gaze with a serene
smile.  Lucy frowned for a moment, the nodded once, a gesture of acceptance
and determination.  "Goodnight," she said again, then, elegant and poised,
walked out of the room.

   I watched her leave, then exhaled deeply.  I looked over at Becky to
find that she was still smiling.  "What?" I asked, a little irritated by
her calm.

   "Nothing, darling," Becky replied, getting to her feet.  "My big stud of
a husband is going to fuck his naughty little teenage daughter, that''s
all."

   "What makes you think that?"

   Becky looked at me censoriously.  "Well, partly because of the way she
rubbed up against you just now, partly because of the look on her face when
you didn't kiss her, partly because I can smell hot, wet pussy in here and
it isn't just me, but mostly because I'm not a fucking idiot, Mike."

   I opened my mouth to reply, but could think of nothing to say.  Becky's
gaze drifted down to my crotch, and I was suddenly aware of my straining
erection.  Good God, had I really just been holding my daughter against my
throbbing cock?  I reached for my wine, and drained the glass in a single
gulp.  Fantasies were one thing, but was I really capable of fucking my own
daughter, of taking her virginity, of making her a woman?

   I would have spent longer pondering the question, but Becky had clearly
waited long enough.  Leaning back on the couch, she pulled her dress up
around her waist, exposing her bare snatch.  "Come on, stud," she breathed.
"Come show your naughty little girl what a nice daddy she's got."

   Well, if my wife wanted to play, I had an ace up my sleeve.  While she'd
been shopping with Lucy, I'd exercised a little technical know-how, and
arranged a wonderful surprise for her.  Her expression of hot, sluttish
desire, coupled with my throbbing erection, told me that this was the right
time.  "Comfortable?" I asked her, sitting beside her on the couch.

   "What are you doing?" she asked suspiciously.

   "I'm just asking if you're comfortable, Becky.  I thought we could watch
a movie together."

   "Michael, sweetie, I love you, but I don't want to watch a movie with
you right now.  I want to ride your cock until your cum dribbles out of my
fucking mouth."

   I thumbed the remote control, and the widescreen TV on the opposite wall
sprang into life.  Becky's brow furrowed as she tried to figure out what
she was seeing, then her eyes widened.  There was no doubt about it: we
were looking at Lucy's room.  The view was the one Becky was accustomed to:
taken from the peephole at the back of our closet, we could clearly see
Lucy's desk, dresser and bed.  "How did you..." Becky began, and I smiled.

   "The wonders of internet shopping, darling.  A six-megapixel camera
wirelessly networked to the PC in my office, and to the TV, in case we want
a live show.  I hooked the -" I paused as Lucy entered the picture.  "Now
we can watch together," I whispered.  Lucy had wasted no time in
undressing, and was now wearing only a pair of baby-pink cotton panties. 
Her beautiful breasts, those same breasts I had squeezed so gently, were
tipped with hard nipples that were every bit as prominent and tempting as
her mother's.  Slowly, her eyes closed and her breath coming in short
gasps, Lucy stroked her fingers over her tender breasts - over the exact
spot I had touched.  Biting her lower lip in pleasure, she squeezed her
firm young tit, her fingernails pressing hard into the flesh.

   Suddenly, silently, Becky stood up.  She quickly pulled off her dress,
and discarded her bra.  I enjoyed the show, watching my beautiful wife
strip as she watched our daughter touch herself, but Becky wasn't in the
mood for me to indulge myself.  Without looking at me, she dropped to her
knees, and leaned over on all fours.  "Do me, Mike," she breathed, her eyes
fixed on the screen.

   There is a time and a place for teasing your partner, and I was smart
enough to realise this wasn't it.  Quickly shedding my clothing, I knelt
behind her, and ran the tip of my rock-hard erection from Becky's clit to
her asshole and back again.  Her pussy was dripping with her juices, her
lips gaping a little, ready for her man.  Without hesitation, I pressed the
tip of my cock against her hot, greedy hole, and slid inside her.  She
gasped and hissed in pleasure, her eyes never leaving the screen.  I looked
up in time to see Lucy throwing her panties into the hamper, the soft curve
of her hip and ass clearly on display.  My daughter's fingers were slipping
between her thighs as she made her way to the bed, where she sat propped up
against the pillows, and spread her legs wide.  Wasting no time, she slid
two slender fingers between the delicate lips of her beautiful pussy,
dipping deeper, then withdrawing so she could sweep the tip of her middle
finger around her swollen clitoris.  He fingers gleamed with her sweet
juices.  Her free hand mauled her tits, squeezing them and scratching at
the bountiful flesh.

   As we watched Lucy thrust her slim fingers into her tight, drooling
pussy, I pumped my cock into Becky's welcoming snatch, matching the rhythm
exactly.  The thrilling connection seemed to drive Becky over the edge, and
her usual stream of dirty talk dried up, replaced by animalistic grunts and
moans.  I took her roughly, meeting her desperate, frantic lust with my
own, pounding my thick cock deeper and deeper into her wet cunt.  Almost
immediately, Becky sobbed with sweet release, her vaginal muscles holding
my cock tightly, squeezing me like a fist, milking my seed until I could
contain myself no longer.

   As my spunk boiled out into Becky's slippery snatch, I looked up at the
screen in time to see Lucy throw her head back.  There was no sound on the
camera, but there was no mistaking the movement of her lips.  My baby girl
gasped as her orgasm washed over her, and moaned what could only have been
the word "daddy".  I forced myself deeper into Becky's willing pussy in an
explosion of lust and desire.  My baby wanted me, and I wanted her. 
Nothing could be more natural.  Nothing could be more perfect.

   Utterly drained, I pulled my slippery cock from Becky's well-fucked
hole, releasing a miniature fountain of our juices which ran down her
smooth, slim thighs.  We half-fell onto the carpet, and I gently pulled
Becky around so her head was on my shoulder, her hair cascading over my
chest.  On the TV, Lucy leaned over, clicked off her light, and the screen
fell dark.

   "You're such a good daddy," Becky sighed, and closed her eyes, drifting
off into an exhausted sleep.

   And that was when I decided.  To hell with the consequences: I was going
to fuck my daughter.



   We Love Lucy - Part Four

   A couple of days had passed since the game of Truth or Dare, days which
Becky and I had once again spent fantasising about Lucy.  It was no secret
now that I wanted to have sex with her, and Becky was very supportive of
the idea - it had, after all, been her fantasy in the first place, before I
had become obsessed with my beautiful teenage daughter.  On the Tuesday
afternoon, I arrived home from the studio at a little after four o'clock,
expecting to find my wife and daughter engaged in the usual suburban round
of homework and housekeeping, chores and TV.

   Becky, however, had other ideas.  Dropping my keys on the hall table, I
saw a short note she had scribbled on the memo pad, letting me know that
she had gone to meet one of her girlfriend's in a cool little coffee shop
we'd frequented when we were a little younger.  The note said she's be home
around six, and we'd order take-out food when she got home.  I scrumpled up
the note and threw it in the trash, my thoughts immediately turning to
Lucy. Was I in the house alone with my daughter for the first time since
Saturday night?  I checked the kitchen, which was empty, and peeked into
the garden, but there was no sign of her.  Finally, however, I found her in
the lounge, sitting on the couch, dressed in a tiny little skirt that left
most of her smooth, well-formed thighs uncovered, and the tight, revealing
Hello Kitty T-shirt she insisted on wearing.  Seeing her in a state of
partial-undress, particularly right at that moment, was enough to get the
blood rushing to my cock.  Things had been a little strange between us
since our intimate contact during the game of Truth or Dare, and I wasn't
entirely certain how she felt about the whole thing.  In my mind's eye, I
could see the image on the TV screen as we watched her masturbate, as she
had been carried off by the tidal wave of her orgasm and her lips had moved
to form that sweet, seductive word that had so thrilled me: daddy.

   And then, with a hot rush of guilt, I realised my baby girl was crying.
Any lusty thoughts I had fled immediately.  I cleared my throat, and she
looked up at me, tears streaking her cheeks.

   "Are you okay, Lucy?"

   "Not really," she admitted, sniffing loudly.

   "You want to talk about it?"

   She nodded mutely.  I crossed the room and sat next to her on the couch,
my arm resting lightly around her shoulder.  "What's going on?"

   "I was just - I was just thinking about you and mommy and about -" She
broke off with a sob.

   "About what, baby?" I asked, squeezing her shoulder.  "What's got you so
upset?"

   "Saturday night.  When we played Truth or Dare."

   My stomach tightened.  Oh, Christ.  "What about it?"

   "I thought - " She sniffed, and looked up at me.  "I thought you liked
me."

   "Of course I like you, Lucy, I love you."

   "I mean in the other way, daddy.  I thought - am I pretty, daddy?"

   "Maybe this should wait until your mother gets home, sweetie," I said,
trying to steer the conversation away from dangerous topics.

   "So you mean I'm not pretty?" she cried out.

   I knelt by the couch and took her hands in mine.  "You're beautiful,
Lucy.  You're amazing."

   "And am I...  sexy?"

   "Of course you are," I said lightly, trying to laugh it off.  "You're a
hottie!  If you weren't my daughter, I'd..." I caught myself and stumbled
to a halt.

   "You'd what?" Lucy asked, the tears stopped, her eyes fixed on mine.  I
shook my head, not trusting myself to answer.  Instead, she tiled her head
slightly to one side.  "You thought I was sexy when we played that game,
didn't you, daddy?"

   I nodded mutely.  This conversation was moving into dangerous waters,
and there was a gleam in Lucy's eye that I didn't entirely trust - surely
she couldn't want that?

   "But you didn't want to play any more?"

   "It wasn't that I didn't want to," I confessed.  "But there are some
things that - you're my daughter, Lucy, and I love you very much, and I do
think you're sexy, but -"

   "And...  do you think I'm sexy now, daddy?" she asked.

   I cradled her in my arms, and kissed the top of my head.  "Lucy, you're
the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.  I've never loved anyone as much as
I love you.  You're wonderful, you're amazing, and yes, you're damn sexy."

   She met my gaze and smiled softly.  "You're not supposed to swear,
daddy," she whispered.

   "I'm not supposed to do a lot of things, baby," I replied gently.

   "Even if they're fun?"

   "Even if," I said, with as much certainty as I could muster.

   "Even if it's what you really want?" she asked softly, her face moving
closer to mine, her moist lips looking so sweet, so inviting...

   "Even if," I whispered in reply,

   "Even if it's what I really want?" Lucy asked, her voice little more
than a sigh, and I had no more words.  Our lips met in a hot, hungry kiss,
a kiss that spoke of deep passions and the urgent need for satisfaction.  I
pulled her hard against me, my fingers squeezing the tight flesh of her
ass, our kiss as deep and passionate as any I'd ever experienced.  She
lifted her right leg off the floor and tightened it around my waist.  I
teased her tongue with my own, I sucked on her perfect bottom lip, and, all
the while, my hands were moving over her body, up her thigh, pushing her
tiny skirt up until was around her waist.

   "Oh God, daddy, hurry," whispered Lucy frantically.  "I need - I need
you!"

   At that moment, any plans I'd formulated on how to get my baby girl into
bed vanished, along with any lingering doubts.  This was it.  Her arms
tight around my neck, one leg hooked around my waist, the other resting on
the couch.  I reached down, hooking my arm over her leg, and unbuckled my
belt.  I roughly dragged my jeans and shorts down to mid-thigh, and my
erect cock leaped up, the glistening tip lightly slapping against the
crotch of my daughter's panties.

   "Oh, please," she begged, her eyes bright with desire, the same look of
wanton lust that I had seen etched on her mother's delicate features.

   "Are you sure, baby?  I don't want to hurt you."

   "You won't, daddy.  You love me."

   I did, and she knew it.  Kissing her passionately, I slipped my fingers
inside her white cotton panties and pulled them aside.  A single thrust, a
glorious, wonderful thrust, and my hard, throbbing cock slipped inside of
my daughter's smooth virgin pussy.  Stars exploded, and the heavens caught
fire.  Lucy moaned in surprise, and I growled in pleasure, our lips pressed
together, our tongues writhing, our bodies tangled together.  I tried to
thrust deeper, but our awkward position, half-balanced on the couch, made
it impossible.  Our mouths still locked in a lover's kiss, I reached out
and took hold of Lucy's slender thigh, the one that rested on the couch,
and encouraged her to wrap it around my waist.  In my blind passion, I
misjudged the move, and felt the couch slip away from us.  I fell
backwards, my shoulder blades hitting the soft cream carpet.  Somehow, Lucy
managed to keep her arms around my neck, and remain on top of me: as her
knees hit the floor, her slick pussy engulfed my thick, swollen cock, all
in smooth motion.  She cried out, whether in pain or in pleasure I could
not tell, her breath hot and sweet against my lips.  She shivered
violently, her balled fists pounding against my chest as she rocked her
hips back and forth, trying to accommodate my prodigious tool in her sweet,
unfucked snatch.  Her mouth was open, her blood-red lipstick smudged, her
moist tongue pressed against her top lip in an expression of utter ecstasy.
Slowly, the rocking of her hips changed to a more insistent thrusting, the
grunts and gasps that marked the passing of her virginity replaced by the
deep, throaty groans of experienced lust.

   "Daddy," she hissed, "oh daddy, you're fucking me so good."

   "Where did you learn words like that?" I asked, but her only reply was a
wicked grin and a vicious thrust of her hips that made by heavy, cum-filled
balls slap against her butt cheeks.  I reached up and pulled off her thin
T-shirt, then deftly unclipped her bra and threw it aside, letting my
darling daughter's beautiful breasts swing free.  Raising my head, I caught
her pert nipple between my lips, swirling my tongue around the hard flesh.
Lucy hissed in pleasure, a sound I had heard her mother make on many
occasions, and began to thrust faster, harder, consuming my cock, driving
it deeper and deeper into her newly-fucked snatch.  Her fingernails scored
hot red scratches across my chest as she redoubled her efforts, her slick
pussy clutching at my cock, her breath coming in ragged groans.  Faster and
harder she thrust her hips, until, suddenly, she screamed out in ecstasy,
her hot snatch squeezing my thrusting cock, as her orgasm riped through her
perfect body.  Exhausted and sated, she collapsed on top of me, her lips
kissing my throat and neck, her beautiful tits hot against my chest.  I
could contain myself no longer.  Feeling my cock throb inside my daughter,
I somehow managed to gasp, "Lucy, I can't hold it.  I'm going to -"

   "I know, daddy," she sighed happily.  "Do it.  Give me your love."

   I threw my head back and clawed at the carpet as a boiling wave of spunk
burst from my cock, filling my little girl's tight pussy to the brim.  Jet
after hot jet of sperm gushed out of me, draining me dry, slipping past
Lucy's spasming pussy and dribbling down the shaft of my dick.

   For a long time, we were silent.  Lucy's head was on my shoulder, her
breathing soft and regular.  I stared at the ceiling and tried to
understand what was happening - surely a man can't fuck his virginal
daughter without feeling any kind of guilt or shame?  This was a crime,
after all - and yet, it wasn't.  This wasn't rape, it was love.  She wanted
it as much as I did, and had enjoyed it too.  We shared a bond that no-one
else in the world could ever understand, not even Becky, as much as we both
loved her.

   The thought of my beautiful, kinky wife made me smile.  Christ, I could
just imagine the look on her face when I confess to having sex with our
daughter without her being there to enjoy the show!

   "What's funny?" murmured Lucy.

   "I was just thinking about your mommy," I confessed.

   "Oh." Lucy raised herself up a little so that she could look at me
properly.  "Will you tell her?"

   "I'll have to, baby.  You know we don't have any secrets."

   "Will she be angry?"

   "Angry?" I chuckled dryly.  "Yeah, she'll probably be angry.  Angry she
wasn't here to see it.  We'll probably have to show her a re-run."

   "I'd like that," she replied sexily, and kissed me slowly.

   "Your mommy might want more than a show, actually," I said slowly.  "She
might want to join in, too.  Would you like that?"

   "Do...  this...  with mommy too?" Lucy said, chewing her lower lip in
thought.  "I've never - you know, I've never, not with a girl.  Do you
think she'd like it?"

   "I know for a fact, baby.  She loves you just as much as I do," I said,
squeezing her hand.

   Lucy considered this, then nodded.  "I think..." Suddenly, she smiled
broadly and nodded enthusiastically.  "Yes, daddy.  I'd love it."

   "Well, in that case..." I began, then broke off and grinned wickedly.

   "What?"

   "Oh, Lucy, your daddy has the best idea," I said with a smile, kissing
my baby girl on her beautiful rosebud lips.

   And so it was that, when Becky arrived home, an hour later, she was at
first confused as to why there should be a rose petal on the floor by the
front door.  Then she realised that there was another, further into the
hall, and another, at the foot of the stairs.  Thinking that I had arranged
a romantic surprise for her, she took off her coat and put her purse and
keys on the hall table, then undid her long hair and shook it out into that
sultry, come-hither style that I like so much.  Picking up the rose petals
as she went, she slowly climbed the stairs and moved along the hall to our
room.  The door was half-open, and she could see the gentle glow of
candlelight in the room beyond.  Smiling happily, she pushed the door open.

   I was waiting for her in bed, naked, sipping chilled champagne from the
crystal flutes her parents gave us for a wedding gift.  The candlelight
gleamed on my naked torso, and I returned her smile.  She approached the
foot of the bed, unbuttoning her shirt as she moved with an exaggerated
swing of her hips.

   "Hi," I said.

   "Hi yourself," she replied.  "Have I told you today that I love you?"

   "You just did," I smiled.  "Would you like some champagne?"

   "I don't see another glass, stud," Becky replied archly, pulling her
shirt off her smooth shoulders.

   "Look behind you," I said.

   Lucy stepped into the light holding the champagne bottle and a pair of
the crystal flutes.  Becky's shirt fluttered to the floor, unnoticed, as
she took in the vision of perfection that was our daughter.  Lucy had
dressed in a tiny babydoll nightdress in candy pink, edged with powder blue
stitching.  Any suggestion of childishness was dispelled, however, by the
deep curve of her cleavage and the high hemline that barely covered the
twin globes of her beautiful butt.  A vision of youthful sexiness, her
expression caught halfway between desire and fear, she extended the bottle
toward her mother.

   "Would you like some, mommy?"

   Becky looked back at me, her eyes wide.  "Did you - my God, Mike, have
you?"

   I smiled wickedly and beckoned to Lucy, who skipped lightly to the side
of the bed, and leaned over, offering me a fabulous view of her pert young
breasts.  I stroked her jawline with the tips of my index and middle
finger, then kissed her hotly.  She returned the kiss passionately, then
moaned in desire when I broke off and turned to look at Becky.  My
beautiful wife looked as if her world had just exploded.

   "I don't -" she began, then swallowed.  "Oh, Mike, is it real?"

   "It's real, baby," I said reassuringly.  "It's everything you wanted. 
Everything we all wanted.  Why don't you come and get into bed?  We've got
a lot of catching up to do."

   For the longest moment, Becky didn't move.  Then, with a hot glimmer of
hunger in her eyes, she undid the button on her trousers and let them drop
to the floor.  Standing there in her underwear, she began to tug her bra
straps off her shoulders, then paused.  "Lucy, honey, mommy's having
trouble.  Would you help me take these clothes off, baby girl?"

   "Of course, mommy," said Lucy with a small smile, approaching her
slowly. She slipped her fingers underneath the thin straps of her mother's
bra, then plucked them free, letting them fall from her shoulders.  Then,
her fingers tracing a light pattern over her mother's flat stomach, Lucy
circled Becky and undid the bra clasp, before pulling it off to reveal
Becky's beautiful tits.  Lucy completed the circle and stood in front of
her mother again, a warm smile on her lips, when, slowly, Becky reach out
and pulled the straps from Lucy's shoulders.  Her babydoll nightdress
slithered over the hot curves of her body and landed on the floor.  The two
women, mother and daughter, stepped toward one another and hugged, their
breasts pressing together.  "You really did it?" Becky said suddenly.  "You
made love to your daddy?"

   "He fucked me, mommy," said Lucy wickedly.  "And I fucked him back."

   "And you liked it?"

   "I loved it.  I've never felt anything like it."

   "Come here, baby girl.  There's something I need you to do." Taking her
by the hand, Becky led out daughter to the bed, and encouraged her to get
up on all fours.  I realised where this was going, and slipped out from
under the sheets to join them at the foot of the bed.  When Lucy was
settled on all fours, her tight ass high in the air, Becky regarded her
coolly, then licked the tip of her index finger and ran it in a slow,
smooth line between Lucy's butt cheeks and down, between the lips of her
hot snatch.  Lucy gasped, and Becky smiled.  "I think she's ready,
Michael," my wife said with a wink.  "Fuck her for me, will you?"

   Becky lay back on the bed alongside Lucy, then lifted her daughter's leg
over her body so that her face was positioned precisely below her
daughter's moist pussy.  I could contain my passion no longer: with a deep
groan, I grasped Lucy's hips and roughly thrust my shaft into her.  Lucy,
unprepared for the sudden violation, squealed in alarm, then groaned in
sluttish pleasure as she pushed backwards against me.  I felt my lust rise
to undreamed of heights as I plundered my beautiful daughter's body,
splitting her perfect pussy in two with my fat cock.

   "Fuck for me!  Fuck for me!" repeated Becky, again and again, her tongue
lashing the shaft of my cock whenever I withdrew from Lucy's drooling slit,
or strumming Lucy's labia.  There was no way I could withstand such a
sublime assault, and I could feel my orgasm approaching like an oncoming
locomotive.  I gripped Lucy's youthful hips tightly, my cock plunging into
her delicious, slick pussy.  Her moans and cries increased in tempo,
matching my grunts as I pounded my swollen tool deeper and deeper into her
willing hole.

   With a cry and a hot rush of pleasure, I felt my fat prick throb and the
first thick spurt of cum erupt inside Lucy's slick cunt.  I looked down,
and could see Becky's eyes widen as, drunk with lust and desire, she licked
at the mixture of her husband's cum and her daughter's juices.  Another
thick wad of spunk burst into Lucy's snatch, slipping between her slick
lips and falling as long, creamy dribbles onto her mother's outstretched
tongue.  Lucy screamed in ecstasy as her mother's tongue found her hard
clit, and even Becky trembled as her long-awaited orgasm ravaged her body,
her fingers thrusting deep in her tight snatch, her thumb circling her
clitoris with quick, deft strokes.

   The echoes of our orgasms lingered for a long time.  Finally, as they
started to fade, my cock slipped from Lucy's firm young body and slapped
against Becky's cum-drenched tongue.  She took the swollen head between her
lips and sucked on it with a load pop.  I twisted and sat down heavily on
the bed, leaving Becky to tease Lucy's drooling snatch with her tongue.

   That was a week ago.  Since then, we've spent every night swapping beds:
I slept with Lucy in her bed, throwing the toy animals to the floor and
taking her roughly, while her mother watched via the camera I rigged up at
the peep-hole; I've screwed Becky lazily while Lucy watched us eagerly,
stroking her own pussy as her parents fucked each other silly; Becky and
Lucy have discovered the pleasures that can be found in the hands of
another woman, and have spent the whole night exploring their bodies with
fingers and tongues; and we've all fucked together in my giant bed,
enjoying finding new ways of showing our love for one another.

   And that's how we'll stay, because as much as Becky and I love each
other, we really love Lucy - and she loves us.



   ----

   (c) Knight Of Passion, 2006 Comments, criticism and fan-mail to
knight-of-passion@hotmail.co.uk

   ----

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