Author: Loren Tres
Title: Doing the Math
Part: 1 of 1
Summary: Emily's math is a bit too enthusiastic
Keywords: Mf, rom, cons, preg, humor
email: loren@lorentres.com

Copyright 2010 by Loren Tres, all rights reserved.  Do not copy, edit, republish, etc.
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Doing the Math
Loren Tres

    "Daddy?"
    It took several reluctant seconds, to drag myself out from my pleasant 
dream and into awareness.  My stepdaughter Emily was shaking my shoulder, 
trying to get my attention.
    “Wake up, Daddy.”
    Her soft hot breath behind my ear sent sensual shivers flowing, like 
electricity tingling all over the surface of my skin.
    "Morning, Emily," I mumbled, still safely ensconced in my pre-waking 
morning stupor.
    “Daddy,” she said urgently, “you have to tell me if it’s really true.”
    “Mm-hmm?”
    She pulled on my shoulder, and I rolled groggily onto my back, knee up, to 
face my early morning inquisitor.  Except my eyes still wouldn’t open, and I 
was already drifting back into the same pleasantly seductive dream.
    “Is it really true, Daddy?”
    She sounded concerned.
    “Hmm?”
    “I said, is it true?”
    With supreme effort, I pried my unwilling eyelids open, and blinked, 
forcing my vision into focus.  Then, my heart rate doubled, in the space of a 
single heartbeat.  Emily was standing beside me, wearing one of my extra, 
extra-large, extra-threadbare athletic shirts with the LV Dojo logo on the 
front.
    She often used my t-shirts as nightgowns.  She liked the way they felt, 
much better than a more typical nightgown.  But the long thin shoulder straps, 
the way-too-big arm holes, the low cut, and the ultra-thin worn out cotton 
fabric of this old shirt was far too revealing for my innocent young 
stepdaughter, especially in front of her very own stepfather, who was sporting 
morning wood after having pleasant dreams about torrid sex with hot nubile 
babes.  
    Her beautiful bare sex showed clearly through the thin white fabric.  She 
was not even wearing panties underneath.
    Not that we were prudish at home about nudity, but the shirt had worked its 
way sideways, and her right breast was completely exposed, while the dainty 
puckered nipple of her left breast was barely covered, revealing almost all of 
the firm, creamy white flesh of her perfectly formed young breasts.  Her long 
wavy blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders and flowed chaotically to her hips 
to cover much of her wardrobe malfunction, but the whole effect seemed to make 
her image ten times more erotic than had she been completely nude.
    “I guess it really IS true,” she said, looking perplexed.
    I replied astutely, with all the intelligence I could muster so early in 
the morning.
    “Huh?”
    She rolled her eyes downward, and giggled shyly.  
    I trailed her eyes to my embarrassing boner, which had found its way out 
from under the sheet when I had turned.
    “Oh, sorry,” I said, pulling the errant sheet guiltily over my morning 
stiffy. 
    I tried to convince myself that my exposed eight inches of mighty man meat 
was just my regular waking wood.  It could not possibly have anything at all to 
do with my innocently erotic stepdaughter, who was unintentionally turning my 
already fuzzy brain into a puddle of mindless mush.  I could never be such a 
pervert – could I?
    “So, if it’s true,” she asked tragically, “why didn’t you just tell me?”
    I was never a lightning fast genius, especially first thing upon waking.  
This time was no exception.
    “Tell you what?”
    “Tell me this!”
    Instantly, she produced my personal journal from seemingly nowhere and held 
it open in front of my face.  The sudden motion wobbled her beautiful young 
breasts enticingly, which made my eyes bug out like saucers, so I could read 
the words more clearly.  The pointer finger of her other hand was jabbing my 
last short entry, made only three days earlier:

    Today is her sixteenth birthday, and now, she is the very definition of a 
young teen goddess.  She has always been so smart and so beautiful, so sweet 
and so kind, but now, she is without question most beautiful and perfect young 
woman on the planet; so energetic and capable, yet so young and innocent and 
full of promise.
    Oh, how I love her!
    Oh, how I wish she would want me as her lover too.  How I long to be her 
first, to end her unsullied virginity and fill her with my seed, to make her 
proudly carry the proof of our sacred love inside her womb for nine months, so 
we can raise our own child together.  It would be the ultimate expression of 
our perfect love.
    Alas, I have taken the role of her stepfather and protector, even after her 
mother left us so many years ago.  It would be violation of her trust even to 
suggest it.
    I want to.
    Oh, God, please forgive me for how much I want to.
    It would be so wrong, because she is so young and has her whole life ahead 
of her, while I am THREE DECADES older than she is, and half my life is already 
gone.
    It can never be; so I will continue to be her trusted daddy, help her grow 
into her young womanhood, and never let her know how I really feel, until at 
long last, I walk her down the aisle to the waiting arms of her new husband, 
and cry inside, with happiness for her joy, and sorrow for my loss.

    She knew.  She would hate me for violating her in my mind; for lusting, 
like a pervert, after the very girl I should be protecting.  She would feel 
betrayed and disgusted.  She would feel icky every time she thought about me.
    “Oh, Emily…”
    “Why didn’t you tell me?  I’m capable of understanding.”
    “I…  I…”
    “Didn’t you ever think I might feel the same way too?”
    “Huh?”
    Abruptly, she yanked the sheet away from my body and straddled my hips, 
causing her warm moist sex to press tightly to the underside of my turgid tool, 
the obvious and very visible proof of my perverted lust.
    “Emily, I…”
    “Let me give you your dream,” she said quietly, her girlish voice suddenly 
husky and lustful.
    “But you don’t need to…”
    “It’s my dream too, Silly.”
    She wriggled her small opening on the leaking tip of my boner, eagerly 
trying to get me inside.  She was utterly ignoring the fact that I was her 
trusted guardian.
    “Hurry, Daddy!  Please?”
    She sounded so desperate; I could not help it.  My hands slid under the 
thin shirt and found her naked hips, instinctively guiding her virginity onto 
my obscenely leaking knob.
    She thrust back, too enthusiastically, and the head of my turgid tool 
popped into the tightest, warmest, wettest heaven I have ever known, or will 
ever know.  I could feel her precious hymen, stretching thinly but holding firm 
against the assault.
    “Oh, Daddy!” she gasped, suddenly holding perfectly still, except for the 
rhythmic contractions of the strong young muscles inside her obscenely 
stretched virgin vagina.  The sudden invasion of my swollen knob, barely inside 
her opening, had triggered her first vaginal orgasm.  The fact that she had 
triggered so quickly was infallible proof of her anticipation, how much she had 
wanted me, and of her extraordinarily sexual nature.
    I felt – well, I felt honored.
    The look of ecstasy and surprise on her innocent young face while her 
vagina munched on the knob of my obscene boner was indescribably erotic.  That 
she could come so quickly indicated she was probably multi-orgasmic.  She would 
be an amazing lover.  More than life itself, I wanted to be her mate for life, 
her chosen one.
    It felt so overwhelming, her hot tight vagina masticating my manhood like a 
starving animal; it was all I could do to keep from bursting my balls and 
blasting babies in her unprotected womb.  I started breathing fast, panting 
like a dog, to delay my own imminent orgasm, at least until her orgasm faded.
    “Oh, Daddy,” she breathed, “I had no idea it could feel so good.”
    “You’re still a virgin,” I offered, giving her a way out, “technically at 
least.  We could…”
    "Huh?  Me?  Oh, I guess I am still a virgin.”
    “Yeah, so if you’d like…”
    “We can fix that!"
    “But…”
    Without any further warning, she hunched back firmly, impaling herself 
halfway onto my turgid tool, and tearing her defenseless hymen to shreds as if 
it was soft wet rice paper.
    “Owe,” she cried, in a poor injured little-girl voice.
    This time, even as her hymen tore, the strong young muscles of her 
incredibly tight vagina squeezed shut as if they were trying to strangle the 
invading monster to death, but her legs gave way contrarily, from the 
surprising pain, making her sink downward and impale herself even deeper, onto 
my  swollen lance.
    A fresh new tear welled up in her eye and wended its way down her pretty 
 cheek.
    I felt ashamed that she should have even a moment of pain, but the sudden 
sensation of going balls-deep into Emily’s ultra-tight virginity was more than 
I could withstand.  Feeling the tip of my baby-maker nudge into firm little 
nubbin of her never-before-touched young cervix, and knowing it was the last 
gateway to her fertility, tipped me over the edge into all-consuming spasms of 
reproductive bliss.
    My churning testicles emptied themselves completely into her tight little 
tummy, in blast after blast of reproductive ecstasy.  My body shuddered in 
intense orgasmic spasms even while muscles all over my body tightened into 
knotted steel bands.
    Even as my testicles continued to churn, and my belching rod continued to 
belch, sending even more sperm into Emily’s precious young womb, my eyes opened 
wide in shock at how fast I had gone from peaceful slumber to gushing geysers 
of gooey gunk into my gorgeous girl.
    I felt guilty as hell, getting my rocks off inside my sweet angel, even 
while she was still hurting from the sudden destruction of her hymen.
    She must have figured out how badly I felt from the look of concern on my 
face.
    “It was good, Daddy; don’t worry,” she sniffled and smiled.  “I love the 
feel of your sperm shooting up inside me like that!”
    Another tear of pain welled up in each eye and wended its way down each of 
her beautiful cheeks.  I caressed her face, and brushed away her tears with my 
thumbs.
    “Oh, Baby, are you really okay?”
    She nodded enthusiastically and smiled warmly.
    “Yes, Daddy, I’m fine.  In fact, I’m perfect.”
    “Thank goodness – and yes, you are.”
    “Thank you, Daddy.  I love you.”
    She pulled off her shirt, tossed it across my room, shook her head to 
rearrange her chaotic blonde curls, and then, while carefully keeping me deep 
inside her newly ravaged virginity, she lay slowly forward onto my chest and 
wrapped her arms around me, pressing her beautiful bare breasts into my big 
hairy chest.
    I caressed her back and legs gently, and basked in the intimacy she had so 
eagerly shared with me.
    “I love you too, Emily, with all my heart.”
    “Thank you for loving me so much, Daddy.”
    “I can’t help but love you, always and forever.”
    Suddenly, she was all excited little girl.
    “Except for the hymen breaking thing, it felt really, really good!  I can 
feel the baby stuff you squirted inside me!  I’m probably pregnant now!  We’re 
going to have a baby, just like you wanted!  Oh, thank you thank you thank 
you!”
    Her lips found my whiskery face and smothered it with dozens of patented 
little Emily angel kisses.
    With my erection still firm, even as it rested inside her, I knew I could 
go again.  She might think she was pregnant now, but selfishly, I didn’t want 
her to stop having sex with me.  As short and surprising as it had been, it was 
the sweetest moment of my life.  I was finally with the girl of my dreams.  In 
fact, if she wanted my baby as much as I wanted to give it to her, then I 
wanted to have sex with her every moment I could, repeatedly.
    From now on, I wanted to do it better.  I wanted to enjoy each lovemaking 
session for hours at a time.  I wanted to show her just how good it could be.  
A part of me worried that if she thought she was pregnant, and that was her 
objective, then she would lose interest in sex.  Guiltily, I plotted to prevent 
that possibility.
    “We don’t know for sure if you are really pregnant yet,” I started.
    “Yes we do!”
    “How do you know?”
    “When I knew you wanted a baby, I read an article on the internet about how 
to get pregnant.”
    “You did?”
    “Yes!  Just like it said, I waited exactly fourteen days from the day my 
period started.”
    “But I just wrote in my journal three days ago, remember; on your 
birthday?”
    “Yeah, but I read your journal before then, too.  You’ve been a naughty 
boy!”
    “Oh,” I said, guiltily remembering all the other things I had written.
    “Anyway, Daddy, I had an ovum inside me, just waiting for a sperm.  I 
checked the consistency of my discharge, and waited until it was warm, thick, 
and stringy, just like the article said, and then I came in here and made you 
squirt your stuff in me right away.  Well, after I made sure you really wanted 
me, and you weren’t just writing a story or something.  Anyway, I was fertile 
and you put your sperm inside me, so we’re pregnant now.  I have to be 
pregnant!”
    She sounded almost frantic.
    “Wow, you did all that?”
    “Yes, I did!  We can check it.  I got a pregnancy test from the store, 
see?”
    Again, seemingly from out of nowhere, Emily held an unboxed pregnancy test 
in her feminine little fist, and held it out for me to see.  Just like before, 
her beautiful young breasts wobbled enticingly at her sudden movement.
    How does she do that?
    “I think it’s a girl,” she continued.  “What do you think, Daddy?”
    “Maybe,” I said, returning to my guilty ploy to have sex with her again.  
“Sometimes a woman has to try dozens of times to get pregnant, even when they 
are in their fertile time.”
    I nudged her cervix with my still hard manhood for emphasis.
    “Dozens?”  She looked nonplussed.
    “Typically, yes.”
    Her heavenly blue eyes rolled upward as she considered this new 
information.  Then she glanced at the clock and grinned at me.
    “Well, we’d better hurry.  We have a very busy day ahead of us!”
    “Huh?”
    "Well, I still hurt a little, but it's supposed to get better every time 
you do it."
    She shrugged so cute, which did amazing things to her beautiful breasts.
    "And that means…"  I prompted.
    “See, I just did the math.  The first time, when I had my orgasm, took 
about thirty seconds to get there, and another minute to finish, and the second 
time, when you had your orgasm, it took another thirty seconds to get there, 
and you took about a minute to finish too.  That’s a total of three minutes, so 
we should be able to do it about ten more times before breakfast, and then we 
can do it about forty more times before it’s time to go to the dojo!
    “Then we can get naked after our workout, and do it some more.  Well, we 
should probably take a shower first.  Hey, I know; we can do it in the shower 
too!  We should be good for a couple-dozen more times before bed.”
    She paused, only a second, to catch her breath and make additional mental 
calculations, while I lay there stunned.
    “If we concentrate, and don’t get distracted by a movie or something, we 
can do it seventy-four more times today and maybe seventy-five times again 
tomorrow.  That way, we can do it a hundred and fifty times before my optimum 
fertile time ends, and we can be sure to start a baby!  
    “Of course, I don’t want to stop having sex just because it’s not my 
fertile time, so we can do it maybe twenty or thirty times a day, you know, 
before you go to work, and after you come home, just for fun, until my next 
fertile time.  Then after our first baby comes out, we can go back to seventy-
five times a day so we can start another baby right away.
    “If we do it right, we can have four babies in the next three years, and 
we can have a party to celebrate our thirty-thousandth orgasm!”
    She rotated her hips erotically.
    “Won’t that be cool, Daddy?  Daddy…  What’s wrong, Daddy?  Are you okay, 
Daddy?  Why are you just staring at me like that?  Say Something, Daddy!  
Daddy?"
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