We Love Lucy, Part Two

by Knight of Passion

Story Codes: M/F, voy

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My stories are works of fiction, and should not be interpreted as
condoning illegal acts.  Be smart.

Please send comments, feedback, questions or criticism to
x.knightofpassion.x@googlemail.com, or check my blog at
http://knightofpassion.livejournal.com.

Knight 
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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fairy princess, she was so light on her feet - now, as Lucy approached her fifteenth birthday, the fairy princess had been replaced by a lush, nubile nymph.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."




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x.knightofpassion.x@googlemail.com! 
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