"Loving daughters" - читать интересную книгу автора (Burke Evan)

CHAPTER ONE YOUR FATHER FOR MINE?

Mama would have raised pure hell if she could have seen us there, naked, four in one bed, sweating even though the air conditioner in the motel room was turned to its coldest. I always sweat when I fuck, sweat until my body gets slippery; and now, as we rested after our first balling of the night, I could feel the perspiration forming cold beads on the flesh of my knockers, on my thighs, my belly. It felt good.

Daddy was sweating, too. His dark hair was wet and pasted to his forehead. The hair on his broad chest and muscular legs was wet and glistening with sweat. He was resting with one arm thrown over his eyes, shielding them from the glare of the overhead light, and I could see that the dark hair beneath his arms was also damp. So was his cock. And the hair around it.

But that was wet with come, not sweat.

Moving closer to him, so that my body was pressed against his side, I pulled his arm down from over his eyes and slipped it under me, snuggling close. With my other hand I reached down to touch his sticky, half-hard prick. His white teeth flashed as he smiled lazily at me.

I kissed him in the hollow of his throat, tasting the salt of his sweat, and I felt his rough hand move down and close over the globe of my tit. My nipple was still hard and erect, the way it always gets when I fuck, or when I even think about fucking, and I felt myself getting hornier as he idly played with my knocker. I began to wonder how long he would have to rest before he could fuck again. Not long, I hoped.

On the other side of my father lay Jodi and her dad, legs still tangled together so that her wet little pussy was pressed against his thigh. She moved it against him as I watched. Both had their eyes closed, the way people will do after a good piece of ass, and I sort of got a kick out of looking them over.

Jodi was seventeen, a year older than me, but she was little. I had it all over her when it came to tits, and I was several inches taller. She was a blonde, just like Ken, her father, and the blondeness was natural. The hair around her cunt proved that. Me, I have the black hair of my father; and it tangles in a thick bush around my cunt. All in all, black hair and blonde, me with the big tits and Jodi with the petite little body she had, we should have made a picture you could put on sale. I reached across the bed and touched Ken's prick.

Jodi, feeling the movement, opened her blue eyes wide. She looked down at my hand, resting on the cock of her father, and she smiled. "Your father for mine?" she asked. That had been our original plan. I returned the smile, shook my head, my long black hair teasing the flesh of my father, and said, "No way, friend. Not now. I want a little of them both. Two cocks are better than one, they say."

And it was the right thing to say. I had rolled half atop Daddy, my knockers reaching down to touch at his side and his chest as I felt his prick with my free hand, and I felt it begin to come alive in my grasp. There is nothing better than the feel of a swelling prick. And in my other hand I could feel the rising of Ken's cock. The suggestion had brought them both to life.

"You can get your pussy from behind," I told Daddy, giving his cock one last squeeze and letting my fingers rub him hard across his hairy balls before I forced my way in between the legs of Jodi and her father. I got into a kneeling position, ready to blow him, and I used both hands to spread his legs wide. Plenty of room, that was what I needed.

"What about me?" Jodi asked, sliding into a sitting position with her back against the headboard of the bed, her long, slender legs spread wide, her pussy showing the slight gleam of come. The girl had absolutely no imagination. I grinned at my father, who was now standing beside the bed, his cock hard and ready, and I grinned at Ken, whose prick stood upright in the cradle of my hands, and then I grinned at her. "Daddy has a tongue, sweetheart," I told her. "So let him use it. That's what tongues are for."

And then I bent down to blow her father's cock. As far as I was concerned, Jodi could take care of herself. She was a raunchy little bitch, one of the hottest I had ever known, and I had no doubt that she would. Me, I had my own fucking to worry about.

"Lift your ass a little higher, Nora," I heard my father say as I eyed the stiff rod of Ken's prick. His hands slid off the back of my legs, stopping when they reached my upraised buttocks, and I could feel him urging me higher. As if I needed urging. I was hot as a firecracker — and getting hotter.

As I slowly bent and touched my lips to the rounded red head of Ken's prick, giving it the gentlest of kisses, I could feel the hand of my father rubbing upward between my legs, stroking the cleft between my buttocks, stroking the hairy bush of my cunt. My cunt was still juicy from the fucking he had given me earlier, and the lips parted easily and eagerly as he forced his fingers inside me.

With a wiggle of my ass, a parting of my legs, and a deep breath, I prepared myself for a fucking from both ends. I heard the sound of Jodi moving about on the bed, but I ignored it.

Holding the hardened shaft of Ken's cock in my fingers, I let my tongue swirl slowly around the head, licking away the sticky come which covered it. A squeeze of my fingers brought a silvery drop of come through the little opening in the center of the head, and I lapped it away with my tongue. It was warm and almost tasteless.

Daddy's hand moved away from my cunt, reached beneath me to grip my belly, and I prepared myself for the thrust of his cock. It came with an almost agonizing slowness, as if in a dream. First, there was the tantalizing touch of the knoblike head as it gently parted the lips of my pussy; then my cunt had completely enveloped the head. It seemed to rest there for a delicious eternity, just inside the portals of my cunt, and then it slid fully in with a slow stroke that was so provocative that I wanted to scream. Instead, I passed the pleasure on to Jodi's father.

He had settled both hands on the back of my head as I licked at the knobby head of his cock, and now, as I opened my lips and completely covered that head, still flicking it with my tongue, I could feel him pressing at the back of my head with urgency. I was between his open legs, legs that lifted and fell as I sucked at his cock, and my hair fell down to touch his stomach.

The cheeks of my ass were suddenly touched by the bristly hair of my father's groin, my cunt was stretched wide around the thick shaft of his prick, and I felt as if I had one great cock running through the full length of my body. It was as though one great length of cock had been thrust into my cunt and pushed, pushed, pushed until it found an exit at my mouth. Wonderful. I loved them both.

I opened my lips into a wide oval, sliding them far down on the slippery stalk of Ken's prick and, at the same time, I tried to flex the inner walls of my cunt around the cock that had settled into a steady pumping motion behind me. I was getting a good one.

As it slipped smoothly in and out of my gash, keeping a constant pressure against my clit, I could feel a pulsing from within me, the throbbing of my blood as it raced through my veins. I bobbed my head over the cock that filled my mouth, trying to match my motions to the pumping of Daddy's hips. He gave a great lunge that stopped me.

His cock was suddenly pushed so deep inside me that I lifted my head as though to scream my pleasure for all to hear — and I saw that Jodi had followed my suggestion.

Not until I looked up had I even realized that Ken's hands had left the back of my head. In my horniness I had lost all awareness of everything but the cock that was moving inside me, stoking my fires, and the cock over which I knelt. Now, for the first time, I saw that Ken had found something else to occupy his hands.

His daughter was on her knees, with one leg on each side of his face, her back to me, and she had lowered her cunt down onto his face. He had one hand on each cheek of her ass, guiding her movements as he licked at her cunt. His hands looked very brown against the untanned flesh of her butt, and I could hear her purring as he ate her pussy. Her arms were high above her head, her hands braced against the wall above the bed, and her hips were moving back and forth above his face, which was raised high between her thighs. I found myself wishing I could watch his tongue as it sliced its way through her slit. But a girl can't have everything and I had plenty to keep me happy. More than plenty.

As I returned eagerly to the sucking of Ken's cock — relishing the taste of it — I felt Daddy strain' hard against me from behind. His prick was all the way in, and he used the hand that held my belly to draw my ass tighter against him. The hard muscles of his thighs were pressed against the backs of my legs; my buttocks tingled to the touch of the kinky hair above his cock. He began to pound at me with furious strokes of his cock. The flame inside me grew hotter.

And so did the cock I was sucking. As I held the head of it in my mouth, letting my fingers play up and down the swollen rod, sliding the outer skin, jacking him off into my mouth, Ken's hips began pumping up and down. I stroked the soft blonde hair of his balls with the fingers of my other hand, making him move faster and faster, and I could feel my cheeks sink inward as I sucked on his prick as if it were a straw in a soda.

"Lick me on the button! On the button of my cunt!" Jodi cried. The bed seemed to rock as she — or someone — squirmed frantically. And then the bed and the whole world seemed to tilt as my cunt flexed, tightened, released, tightened, and quivered as I began to come…

"Faster! Do it faster!" someone pleaded, and in the heat of orgasm I was too hot to recognize the voice. My fingers raced up and down the length of the throbbing cock they held. But no faster than the driving of the cock Daddy was giving me from behind. I rotated my ass in slow circles, trying to make it better — and found that I was trying the impossible.

You can get no better fucking than he was giving me — not from a boy, not from a man, not from anyone. Already, I had gone — and still my cunt flashed hot and cold. I felt — no, I knew! — that I could fuck all night. Nothing is better than Daddy's fuck.

I felt Ken grope beneath me with his hand until he found the sphere of my tit, and the pull he gave my nipple was a warning that he was ready to come. And I was ready, too.

With flying fingers I beat him off, my mouth still ovaled tight around the head of his prick, sucking. My tongue licked at him. My mind seemed to blur…

And then he came.

The come gushed hot and thick into my mouth at exactly the moment when I felt him grasp the back of my head, felt his hips lift and jerk in a quick spasm, and I thought I was going to drawn in his sticky semen. It filled my mouth, flowing out at each corner of my lips and sliding down my chin in a warm rivulet, and it seeped down my throat, thick and pasty. I pulled away from his cock, gagging, and a second stream of it shot up to hit me in the face. My lips opened, on instinct alone, and the come I hadn't swallowed spewed out and onto the blond curls of his cock-hair. A thin stream of it hung suspended from my lower lip. I brushed it away, released his cock, and looked over my shoulder at Daddy. A red mist seemed to separate us.

"Put it to me from the front. I want to… to kiss you… to see you… while we fuck," I pleaded, barely able to say the words. I somehow freed myself from his grip — damned hard to do, considering how good it felt — and rolled onto my back. He joined me at once.

"My little baby girl, all grown up," he said, moving between my legs. I felt his cock touch the inside of my thigh. Then it was inside me again. He kissed me on the lips, then looked down at me.

"A full-grown woman, Nora, that's what you are." His prick began to move inside me. He had a hand on my tit, fondling it, and his expression was dazed. "A big-titted woman. A woman made to fuck, and that's my kind of woman." His voice sounded strange, but his words were making me hot.

"I'm also a woman who loves it," I said, lifting my legs high and wrapping them around his body. I slipped my hands behind his neck and pulled his face down to mine. As I used my tongue to part his lips, I slowly gyrated my hips beneath him, letting my own body set the pace of our fucking. I wanted him to last as long as possible.

He sucked my tongue deep into his mouth, let me draw it back, and then forced his own tongue between my lips. His hands moved over my tits, lingering at the nipples, moved over my sides, beneath my ass… touching me… touching me. And all the while his prick moved smoothly in the clinging sheath of my pussy.

Fuuuuuuckinnng!

Daddy slipped one hand beneath my thigh, lifting my leg and bending it at the knee. He raised it so high that it touched my breast, and I could feel the slash of my cunt tighten around his stroking cock. The new position enabled him to reach my tit with his mouth, and I held the back of his head as he sucked my nipple between his lips. The sensation was so unbearably exquisite that I found myself digging my teeth into my lower lip, clawing at his neck with my nails.

Jodi moaned somewhere beside us on the bed. Through lidded eyes I saw that she had somehow put the lead back in Ken's pencil — which would be his third time tonight — and she was mounting him from the top. No wonder she was such a hot-pants little broad, I thought. It must run in the family. A deep stab of Daddy's prick drew my attention back where it belonged.

He was stroking faster now, thrusting so deep that I could feel his hairy balls swinging in to slap against the tender undersides of my ass, just below my upraised cunt, and I moved my pelvis faster.

His lips worked my rigid nipple with exactly the same speed that his cock was pounding in and out of my cunt, and his breathing came faster and faster, louder and louder. Or was it the sound of my own breath I was hearing? I couldn't say.

As I felt myself starting to come, bubbling like champagne, I wrapped my legs high around his body and squeezed with all my strength, lifting my cunt to meet him.

We strained against each other, groin to groin, and I heard him gasp for breath as he released himself inside me. It felt warm and fluid. It felt like it would go on forever — and it felt wonderful.

He fell into my arms, just resting there, his cock still inside me, unmoving now, and I wished he could stay there forever. I felt his prick go soft and small inside me, its hardness leaving, and I felt a trickle of come seep from the bottom of my cunt. Then he pulled himself free, kissed me, and rolled onto his back beside me. He looked exhausted.

Ken and Jodi were finished. She lay facedown, her cheek resting against the chest of her father, her arm across his stomach, and I could tell by her breathing that she was asleep. Ken held her with one arm thrown lightly across her small shoulders, and he was looking down at her with a curious expression on his face. I looked at Daddy. He had the same expression on his face. I wondered if they felt guilty.

It was something to think about. None of us had expected it to go this way; at least I hadn't. Not really. I had intended to get my balling from Ken. Daddy was to have been with Jodi. That was the way we had planned it. That wasn't the way it had worked.

We met them — Ken and Jodi, that is — at a special gathering of The Sexual Freedom Front. That's just a fancy name for a swap club. Mama and Daddy have been members for five years, maybe longer, and this gathering was strictly a social one, no swapping or anything, supposedly held so the members could get to know each other's brats. Dinner and all that crap. Real discreet. Mama wouldn't have gone for anything else.

Sexual freedom, my ass! When it came to sexual freedom, my mother had a definition all her own. She wanted it for herself — and to hell with everybody else. She had always done her best to keep me from knowing about the swapping that went on around our house — and if she was so sold on sexual freedom, why would she be ashamed of it?

But I had known about it since I was a snotty nosed little kid, and it hadn't really interested me until I learned — in the back seat of a car — what fucking was all about. Then I took a real interest.

Like sneaking home a few times to watch through a bedroom window — they always pawned me off on friends on party nights — and listening with new interest to the things Mama would say on the nights they were going elsewhere for their fucking. "Don't you go down on anyone, George," I had heard her say one time. "If you do that, I swear I'll quit." And she had stopped talking when she saw me. Yes, Mama had her own definition of freedom. She really did.

It was different with Daddy. I could always talk with him — about anything. He knew I was no starry-eyed virgin. He had fixed it with our doctor so I could get the pill. And when I told him I knew about the swapping, he had explained it to me. It wasn't that he didn't love my mother, he said, it was simply that they were a mature, sophisticated couple who could accept the fact that sex was something to be enjoyed, not something to be regulated. I agreed, of course.

We had talked about it a lot — swapping, I mean — without getting dirty about it, and it seemed to please him that I accepted it the way I did. I think he had expected I would feel hurt, or something.

So when they received the invitation to the family get-together, to be held at the home of a couple who were members of the group, he had argued that I should go, that I would soon be a woman, that nothing wrong was going to happen, that I already knew about the club, and that I was reaching the age where I would soon have to decide about sex for myself. And so we went.

At first, the whole thing struck me as pretty dull. The dinner was held on the patio of a rambling brick house near the beach, and about twenty couples were there. Talking, drinking, just mingling. And then I met Ken — and the party came to life.

I was standing beside the long table they had set up as a buffet when I saw him. And I reacted at once. That happens sometimes — you get the hots the moment you see a man. Well, I got them that night.

He was talking to Jodi — though of course I didn't know until later who she was — and I thought I had never seen a more handsome chunk of man. And I guess he could feel me watching him, because he turned his head slowly in my direction, smiled, setting my pants on fire, and in a moment the two of them came over to where I stood.

Have you ever met a person who really turns you on? At first sight, I mean? Well, that was the way it was with us. While we stood there talking, our eyes kept meeting, feeling each other out, and we were thinking of the same thing.

Fucking.

Strange as it may seem, when Daddy joined us there, I saw the same look pass between him and Jodi. She wore a pale blue dress that hugged the sensuous curves of her slim little body, and I saw that he was really eating her up with his eyes. I knew, then, that all of us were thinking of the same thing.

We had little chance to do anything about it, though. Not then. Mama was there, watching me like a hawk. So was Ken's wife, Jodi's mother. It would have ended right there — except Jodi and I exchanged phone numbers before we left.

My first telephone call, the next morning, confirmed what I had been thinking — that she wanted to hump for my father. And I wasted no words in letting her know I had the hots for Ken. And we planned, and planned, and planned.

It took me a week to bring Daddy around. I began by dropping hints about how he had impressed Jodi, led him on to the point where I was telling him she was driving me crazy, then joked that he should give her a little to get her off my back. He laughed at that.

"Her old man would murder me for banging his daughter," he joked, but his eyes showed his interest. And then I lowered the boom. "Not if he's doing the same to me," I said.

He was reluctant to do it, really reluctant, but he was also so hot for Jodi that he finally gave in. Ken was no problem. I called him myself. And the arrangements were made. Daddy taking me for a weekend trip. Ken doing the same. Adjoining rooms were reserved. We could switch fathers with detection. It was perfect.

Except we forgot to switch.

Jodi and her father were late in arriving. That was what caused it to happen. Daddy and I paced the floor of the motel room, making unfunny, nervous little jokes about what we were going to do, and we waited… and waited. He left to buy a bottle of whiskey, and we made drinks in the water glasses the motel provided. I drank mine straight.

"Looks like we wasted a trip," Daddy said with a weak grin. They were already two hours late, and my nervousness had turned to anger. I stood up, sweating despite the coolness of the room. I always sweat when I'm horny, mad, or disappointed, and I was all three. "I'm going to take a shower," I said. I began stripping.

Nudity is nothing to be ashamed of around our house, and Daddy had seen me that way a thousand times. This time, though, he seemed to be paying special attention. I was down to my skimpy bra and see-through panties — the ones I had bought specially for this trip — before I noticed the way he was looking at my tits and cunt. He grinned crookedly at me, then said, "He's sure passing up a good one." He looked miserable.

"And she's passing up a better one." He was sitting on the bed and, feeling sorry for him, I sat down beside him. "Poor Daddy," I said, touching his hair. He looked away from me, then back. I kissed him on the lips, very lightly, then slipped my arm around his shoulder. He rested his face in the hollow at the base of my neck.

Somehow, I don't know how, I realized that he was staring down at my tits, barely covered by my bra, down at the dark patch that could be seen through my panties, at the hair that curled out beneath the elastic at my thighs. I felt myself getting hot — no, hotter!

And it was then, I guess, that I first thought of making it with him. His arm was around me, just above my panties, I could feel his warm breath on the flesh that swelled above my bra, and I was suddenly intrigued by the thought of fucking my own father. I looked down at his lap. The swelling hard on said he was thinking of it, too.

He started to say something as I raised his face, realizing, I suppose, what I was going to do. "Shhh," I said. Then I kissed him. It was not a daughterly kiss. My fingers settled on the swell of his cock. Hard as steel!

"Nora…! Nora!" he moaned, his hands tearing at my panties and bra. He stripped me naked, lay me back on the bed, and together we peeled away his clothes.

"That's the way we were — naked and fucking when, without knocking, Jodi and her father came into the room."

Opportunity is, of course, a prime factor in any incestuous affair. It is doubtful that few such interludes are planned, at least on the first occurrence and it seems much more probable that they come about when circumstances create a highly sensual atmosphere.

It seems reasonable to assume also that these circumstances are much more likely to occur in the household of a "swinging" family, as in the case of Nora, than in others. When a child is reared in an atmosphere of sexual "freedom", knowing that her parents engage in swapping or similar activities, she is certain to engage in mental speculation on the subject. Such speculation will lead to a certain amount of sexual stimulation, though she may not connect this arousal with incestuous desire.

While it may be desirable, in many cases, for the child and the parent to engage in free discussion of sexual matters, it is also true that such discussion may instill in the child a feeling of sexual equality, thus weakening Freud's "barrier against incest".

Is the case of Nora a rare example? Or is incestuous swapping a common practice among the growing cult of "swingers"? It is hard to say, but a recent study by Dr. James R. Smith, titled: Consenting Adults, offers some insight into the relationship between "swingers" and their children. In the book, one of the most comprehensive ever compiled on the subject, a young mother is quoted as saying:

"… Swinging aroused in me a new desire to teach my two sons that sex, all sex, is a healthy thing. I would readily accept it if they became 'swingers'."

The book quotes another couple as stating that "we would never hesitate to introduce our own children into the club, if, when they reach maturity, they express a desire to join."

The family gathering at which Nora and her father met Jodi and Ken appears to be a recent development among couples who swap. It may prove to be a key factor in the creation of more frequent opportunity — and desire — to commit incest.

In the early days of swapping, Doctor Smith reports, the parents carefully concealed their involvement in such activities. Recently, however, the tendency has been to be more open about the practice. Many of the larger groups, the book reports, now hold "social" gatherings, such as the one described by Nora, and these are open to children of all ages.

The Sexual Freedom League, one of the largest of these groups, publishes a monthly newsletter. Though this is not the same group to which Nora's parents belonged, the club's Southern California Region Newsletter for October 15, 1968 describes a meeting similar to the one attended by Nora. The following is a direct quote from this newsletter:

… Between 40 and 50 members showed up at C-and M-'s for a really heartwarming event. In addition to married and single couples there were quite a number of stag singles. But the happiest feature was that between fifteen and twenty of those present were children ranging in age from infants upward.

Possibly because they were children from homes where the philosophy typical of the SFL prevails, they were relaxed, well-behaved, well-adjusted youngsters. The older kids took care of the youngsters… taking the strain off the adults, who were thus free to enjoy the good food and stimulating conversation that abounded.

… Now that the ball has started rolling, we shall probably have at least one big Family Circle affair each month. In the future an effort will be made to schedule the Sunday gathering on a weekend not following a Saturday night party; so even bigger turnouts can be expected. Nudity and sex activity will not, of course, be on the program. Thus it will be an ideal opportunity for new members or prospective members to come without trepidation or self-consciousness to see for themselves what sort of people SFL members are.

Even though, as the letter states, "nudity and sex activity will not, of course, be on the schedule", it can be seen that such parties will surely expose the child to the attitudes of the "swingers", to a certain amount of sexual bantering, though it may be no more than verbal exchanges between the adults in attendance, and to a varying degree of sexual temptation.

Are parents who encourage their own children to mingle with the type of person one would expect to meet at such a gathering to be considered perverts? Are they, perhaps, mentally disturbed?

No — according to Dr. Gilbert Bartell, a young anthropologist on the faculty of Northern Illinois University, who has conducted massive research on the subject of swapping. After interviewing 204 couples during the course of his research, Dr. Bartell is quoted in The Sex Researchers as saying; "The chief characteristic which the 204 couples had in common was their inherent normality. They were average, even commonplace."

In the case of Nora, the atmosphere and the opportunity for incest were created through a long, somewhat complicated sequence of events, it would seem. The first step was the family's acceptance of nudity, which later allowed the girl to feel no hesitance as she undressed before her father — even though she must have known he was sexually aroused.

By discussing sex with her from an early age, then providing her with "the pill", Nora's father openly recognized her as a sexually developed woman, thus giving tacit approval to her open sexual acts. By admitting to her that he and his wife swapped with other couples, he may have removed himself from the sexual pedestal upon which children tend to mentally place their parents.

When he actually gave his consent to her meeting with Ken, in exchange for his own interlude with Jodi — a move which, in effect, prostituted his own daughter — he probably removed the last block in the barrier against incest. He provided the atmosphere and the opportunity… Incestuous desire may well have been building in Nora's subconscious long before the incident in the motel room. She may have chosen Ken as a substitute "father-image", mentally stimulated by the thought of her father consenting to their having intercourse. Her father's obvious interest in Jodi seems to have added to her arousal, as shown by her description of the meeting. In the depths of her mind, Nora may have decided to commit incest long before their arrival at the motel.

When Nora says that her mother wanted sexual freedom only for herself, she reveals resentment and hostility that may also have contributed to her desire to commit incest. Jealousy toward a parent is often cited as a contributing factor in such relationship.

The belief that Nora harbored the subconscious desire to engage in sexual relations with her father is strengthened by the fact that, at no time during her narrative did she express a desire to end the incestuous portion of the affair. She expressed no remorse; she mentions no feeling of guilt. The only time she mentions a desire for Ken, in fact, is when she tells of her desire to engage in sex with both men at the same time.

Without probing deeply into the psyche of the man it is difficult to say what caused Nora's father to abandon the moral code which forbids sexual relations between father and daughter, but his consent to the meeting between Ken and his daughter may have been an overt expression of a subconscious desire to have relations with his daughter. And it is likely that this desire was one of long duration, and one of which he was totally unaware.

This desire lies hidden in many, buried beneath the restraints of society, and it plays upon the child from birth. All affection, every touch, each gentle kiss will have a lasting effect upon the child.

This is how Freud described that effect:

A mother or father would probably be horrified to know that all their marks of affection were arousing the child's sexual instinct and preparing it for its later intensity. What we call affection will unfailingly show its effects one day on the genital zones as well.

If the sexual development of a child is guided in such manner by the simplest expression of parental love, what, then, may be expected of a girl such as Nora, whose very life has been lived in an atmosphere of open sexuality?

Let her tell us.

Jodi had lost her cherry to her own father, I learned the next morning. Ken first balled her when she was thirteen, and she told me about it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. They had been making it ever since, behind her mother's back, naturally, and that was why they hadn't hesitated to join us when they saw us in the sack. She laughed as she told me about it.

We were at the beach, where we had gone after breakfast, and we had the place entirely to ourselves. The two of us lay side by side on the big beach blanket, watching Daddy and Ken as they swam in the water, splashing and puffing like a couple of kids. I asked Jodi if Ken had let her swap before.

"Sure," she said, looking almost surprised. She rested herself on one elbow, watching me. "It gives him a chance at some young cunt now and then — and it gives him an excuse to put the cock to me, if you get what I mean. Not that he needs an excuse. Not so far as I'm concerned, he don't. But he always likes to pretend it happens by accident. I guess that's the best way to describe it. Each time we do it, he says it's going to be the last — and I always know better. We make it too good together."

With that she flopped back down on the blanket, leaving me to think about what she had said. I closed my eyes, letting the morning sun warm my face, and I turned it over in my mind. I wondered if Daddy had any misgivings about what we had done. Probably not, I decided. He had enjoyed it too much. And Ken? I was sure he had none. Even before my talk with Jodi, I had been sure of that.

As we had originally planned, I had spent the night with Ken; Daddy had slept with Jodi. Ken had been too exhausted to make it again, but he had held me in his arms, his hands on my breasts, his cock touching my buttocks, and he had stroked me until I was asleep. The last thing I could remember him saying, now that I think about it, was that he hoped my father was giving his little girl a good one. He seemed excited by the thought.

As for myself, I had no regrets whatsoever. I was glad it had taken the course it did, and I meant to keep it going. Ken was worth a try, of course — any man is — but Daddy was the one I wanted to please. As I made that admission to myself, I suddenly realized that it had been true for as long as I could remember. He was the one. He always had been. He always would be.

Suddenly my mind was flooded with memories of nights when I had remained awake and listened to the sounds that poured from the bedroom of my parent — the whispers and sighs and the small laughs — of people who are fucking — and I recalled the way I would squirm and touch myself beneath the blankets as I listened. And I admitted to myself, for the first time, that I had somehow been placing myself in their room, in their bed, in the arms of my father. I wondered, now, why I had waited so long to make it a reality.

And I had no intention of letting that reality slip from my grasp. Not now. I knew what they called it when you fuck your own flesh and blood, and I knew that Daddy was likely to feel guilty about it, to have some second thoughts about it, and that this first time might be our last. I decided not to let that happen.

It had to be so good — this weekend of balling that he would come back for more. And more. And more. And I had to make it that way. I knew how. There would be no rules — not for us. No one saying, "Don't you go down on anyone," as Mama had said. No rules at all.

I would, I decided, give him the things she couldn't… or wouldn't. And I would begin right now.

Jodi sat up when I reached over to touch her arm. She had loosened the string that held the white top of her two-piece bathing suit in place, letting the skimpy covering slip low on her high, taut breasts, and I caught a glimpse of the brownish circle around her nipple. "You ever fuck in the surf?" I asked her, grinning.

She smiled back at me, her teeth even and white against the tan of her face. "Not yet," she said. "But if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, I have a feeling that's gonna change."

"Nothing to keep us from it," I said. I pointed to a small grove of pines a few yards down the beach. Once behind that we would be hidden from anyone who might look out the rear of the motel. The beach itself was deserted for as far as we could see. I stood, then said, "First girl in the water gets to choose her cock."

Squealing and leaving the top of her bathing suit behind her on the beach Jodi leapt to her feet and was off in a flash. I let her get ahead of me, wanting to see which one she would choose. Her white little tits bobbed as she raced across the sand, covering the distance in long strides. She headed straight for my father.

He looked surprised as she splashed into the water before him, quickly throwing her arms around him and pressing her naked tits against his chest. He said something that was lost in the sound of the surf, laughed, kissed her, and laughed again. I went after Ken.

The water was icy cold. I felt the goose pimples cover my flesh as I rushed quickly into it, moving toward Jodi's father. He was standing in water that rose to his chest with each inward breaker, then fell to his thighs each time the waves retreated. I dove headfirst into an oncoming wave, then surfaced only inches away from him.

We reached out for each other.

He settled his hands beneath the cheeks of my ass, lifting me high in the chilling water that raced past my legs, and I slipped one arm around his neck. My tits, barely covered by the top of my flesh-colored swimsuit, flattened against his muscular chest. I kissed him.

There was the taste of salt on his lips, a taste that I let my tongue reach out to enjoy. As I rolled my tongue over the outside of his mouth, licking away the brine, I could feel his hands moving on my ass. They pulled my pelvis toward him, holding me so I could feel the hard bulge of cock at the front of his trunks, and then they swung me away. Then in again, closer still.

As the icy water rose high on our tight-pressed bodies, I slipped a hand inside his trunks. My hand fitted neatly around his prick. I held the hardened cylinder in my fist, thrilling to the contact, and I let my tongue slide deep inside his mouth. His hands found their way inside the bottom of my bathing suit. They moved more urgently on the globes of my ass now that there was no cloth to separate them from the smooth skin. The pounding of the surf grew louder.

"Let's get back to the room, kid," he said urgently, pulling away from me. His hands had slipped so low under my buttocks, trying to reach the rear of my cunt, that he had tugged my suit low on my hips. I shook my head and nodded toward Daddy and Jodi, who were already moving toward the concealment offered by the grove of pines. Daddy had his arm around her shoulder, one hand cupping her naked tit. "I want it here, on the sand, with the water pounding over us," I said.

That's exactly where and how he gave it to me.

We followed Daddy and Jodi down the beach, walking with our arms around each other, our hips brushing. The arm he had around me was low on my waist, so that the could keep his hand beneath the wet bottom of my suit, and my buttocks rolled in his palm as we walked toward shallower water. He was breathing hard.

In front of us Jodi's lithe body swayed next to my father, her delightful little hips swinging with each step she took. A strip of white flesh showed beneath her tiny suit — the flesh of her ass that had gone untouched by the sun — and I found a strange pleasure in the knowledge that her little body would soon be sprawled beneath my father, fucking for all she was worth. I hoped she was a good fuck.

As we rounded the little curve that took us behind the grove of pines, Ken suddenly took me by the shoulders. His hands tugged at the top of my bathing suit, pulling the straps down over my shoulders. My breasts tingled as they were freed from the confining bra. They tingled even more as, looking me calmly in the eyes, he took one tit into each of his hands. He rubbed them with the palms of his hands.

"You've got tits that were made for sucking," he told me, then proceeded to do just that. Holding the mound of a breast in each hand, he bent to suck gently at my left nipple, then the right. My legs weakened beneath me. I tugged at the elastic of his trunks. "And you've got a tool made for fucking," I rhymed. The touch of my fingers caused him to lift his head.

We splashed down into the shallow water.

While I lay there with the icy water of the Pacific rushing up to fruitlessly attempt to douse the fire that was blazing between my thighs, he quickly stripped away his trunks and threw them on the beach behind me. His cock was aimed at my slit as I lifted my ass to let him tug away the last covering of my cunt. He threw the flesh-colored material after his own trunks. Then he came after me.

The rough sand teased the tender flesh of my ass as I spread my legs wide to accept him. It was gritty beneath my back, and the cold water flooded in around us, fell away, then returned. Ken knelt between my legs. I watched his face as he slipped his hands beneath my ass, raising it from the sandy bottom and throwing all my weight on my shoulders. His eyes seemed vacant as he stared down at the cunt he was being offered. His mouth went slack. He ran his tongue over his lips as I squirmed beneath his stare, and he released one cheek of my ass long enough to reach down and stroke the hairy bush of my pussy, as if parting it for his cock.

Then he stuck it to me.

Just the head of it at first, just that rounded knob that opened the lips of my pussy and made me crave more of what he had to offer. He held it there for an eternity, swinging his hips slightly backward when I writhed frantically against the water-covered sand, desperately trying to shove myself onto the full shaft of his cock. Then he gave me more.

As a chilling wave came in to surround the lower half of my body, covering the ass he held raised in his hands, spreading up and over my waiting cunt, flowing over my belly and touching the bottoms of my naked tits, he gave me another inch, then another. I grabbed the backs of his thighs, trying to bring him all the way in.

And he came all the way in. Oh, how he came. Suddenly there was no more teasing, no more holding back. He released the cheeks of my ass, letting them fall once more onto the rough bottom, fell forward, clawing at my tits, and with a violent lunge buried his cock to the hilt.

That was the way he fucked — violently! With both hands squeezing my tits so that they ached with a delicious pain, his mouth over the rigid nipple of one and sucking hard, he flicked with driving strokes that rammed his prick so deep inside me it seemed to be thrusting against the inside of my stomach, then withdrew until my cunt was clinging only to his knob. The water ebbed and flowed around us, and his cock worked like a piston inside my cunt. I thought I could feel the water being forced from inside me with each entry of his cock, gushing between my thighs, but it may have been my imagination.

Imagination or not, he was giving me a good fuck. A fuck that made me claw at his wet hair with trembling fingers, holding, him to the pulsing nipple he was flogging with his tongue. A fuck that caused me to wrap my legs high around his back as I sought the leverage which would allow me to match the motions of my pelvis to the pumping of his hips. A fuck that caused me to burn, even in the coldness of the surrounding water. I hoped Daddy was getting the same.

Strange how the mind will wander at a time like that. And even stranger was the way I suddenly seemed outside my body, watching as Ken drove himself at me. Only it wasn't Ken who hovered above the girl in the surf. It was Daddy. And then I was back in my own body, writhing in the chill of the water, the heat of the fucking, and my mind had replaced Ken with Daddy.

He blurred above me. The blond hair darkened, became the hair of my father. His body thickened. It became more muscular. His cock, longer and slimmer than the cock of my father, seemed to grow thicker between the pulsating walls of my cunt. The sound of the surf was lost in the roaring that filled my brain.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" I repeated over and over. My pelvis rose and fell, driving the mound of my cunt against the hard bony base of his prick, moving back on the rod of his cock and then swallowing him again. And then I came.

Lord! How I came! Time after time my cunt was shaken by the surging releases of my juice, each time more intense than the one before. And still I moved. And fucked. And clawed at his back. And begged and pleaded for more. Until with a hard ramming of his prick and a horribly sweet bite of my nipple, he gushed his warm sperm into me. I fell back onto the sand, my cunt filled with his juices, his fast-softening cock, and the waves that sought to wash them away.

"Looks like our friends have decided to leave us all by ourselves," Ken whispered into my ear.

I was so dazed by the intensity of my coming that I had hardly noticed it as he moved from between my legs. Still in something of a stupor, I rolled onto my side, then managed to make it to my knees.

My backside was coated with wet white sand; so were my thighs. I brushed it away as best I could, then struggled to my feet and joined Ken. He said nothing as we dressed. But I saw him smiling faintly as he stared down at the indentations we had left in the white sand at the edge of the water. I smiled, too. As we left our hiding place behind the little grove of pines, the waves were already removing the last traces of our fucking.

Jodi's face was still flushed with excitement when we reached the motel. That was the first thing I noticed. She had retrieved the top of her suit, but she might as well have left it. It was pulled too high on her breasts, leaving the white bottom flesh of her tits showing beneath the cups, and I wondered if she had returned to the motel like that. Probably, I decided. It was obvious that she still had the hots.

They were in our room, and Jodi was hanging around Daddy as if she owned him. She was sitting on the bed beside him, her hand very high up on his thigh, almost touching his crotch, and she was watching him with open adoration. There were traces of white sand on both their bodies, and as I watched she brushed a few grains from his back onto the red carpet of the floor. I left Ken and put my arm around Daddy's shoulder.

"You saved a little of that peter for me, didn't you?" I asked, purring the words as I pressed my tits, covered by the damp bathing suit, against his arm. Jodi was on the other side of him, with her hand still close to his prick, and her eyes caught mine for a brief moment as I moved my hand down his side, onto his hard thigh, then onto the wet front of his trunks. He pulled my hand away. "Give an old man a break, will you," he said, standing. "I may not be able to get it up for another week."

His tone said he was joking, but the joke fell flat on its rump. I looked at Jodi.

Her eyes had never left my face, as though she were waiting for me to do something that was expected of me, and I found myself unable to turn away from her. My hand was on the bed, where it had settled when Daddy moved away, and I felt her touch it with her fingers. Her blue eyes seemed to blaze at me. A small pulse was pounding visibly in her slender neck.

"We know how to get it up for them, don't we, Nora?" she whispered, moving closer on the bed. I knew what she meant. I knew that the women at the swap meetings would sometimes put on a show for their men. I knew what they did. I knew how they did it. I knew it would get the men back in a mood for fucking. And I knew I wanted to do it with Jodi.

"Yes, we know how to do that," I whispered. Excitement rushed through me as her hand brushed my inner thigh and she leaned forward, slowly it seemed, to kiss me on the lips. I put my arm around her.

As Jodi fell against me with all the weight of her slim little body, pressing me backward on the bed, I could hear the sound of the two men breathing. It was a harsh sound, an excited one. I opened my lips.

As her tongue snaked quickly into my mouth, hot, wet, and eager, she tugged the bra of my swimsuit upward over my tits — exactly as her father had done — and her body pried itself between my legs. I could feel her bathing suit rasping against my stiffening nipples. I tugged it up. Her little tits seemed to sink into the softness of my larger ones. Her nipples bored hot and deep into my flesh. Her hands were everywhere at once — and still we kissed.

Her lips and tongue were tangy with the taste of salt, and her body was squirming against the mound above my pussy, getting me hotter and hotter. My hands, with no thought or direction from me settled on her firm little tits, moved them for a moment against my own, and then began clawing at the bottom of her swimsuit. Her hands stripped me.

In silence, as if we had planned it before, she turned herself so that she was kneeling above me one knee on each side of my head, her long hair hanging down to tease my thighs as she stared at my cunt, and her own little pink slit positioned above my face.

Then she went down on my cunt. "Sixty-nine… it was a very good year," I heard Ken say.

Her lips touched me lightly at the upper edge of the dark hair of my cunt, bringing less reaction than I had expected. I was hot, but it was largely because of the knowledge that we were being watched. That, at least, was what I told myself. Then she kissed me in the center of my cunt — and I felt a new kind of heat.

Because she was a female, I guess, she knew all the right places, the places that will drive you out of your mind. As I stared up at her widespread little cunt, inches above my face, her tongue lanced in and out of my gash, touching the hood around my clit the clit itself, licking over my outer lips. I put my hands on the smooth little orbs of her ass and urged her closer to my face. I was ready to give as good as I was getting.

Her pussy, as it moved to meet my lips with such slowness that it seemed a dream, looked like a flower covered with the dew of early morning. The pink lips glistened. They were the petals. The fine blonde hair around her slit was coated with white brine from her swim in the ocean, and that was the autumn foliage that surrounded the flower. Like a bee, after pollen, so I went after my first taste of cunt. The brine-coated hair of her slit was rough against my tongue as I forced my way into her gash. I could taste the salt. I could taste a sweetness. I imagined that I could taste the come of my father. As I found the hard little button of her clitoris and slowly licked it with a back and forth darting of my tongue, she shifted her body so that her wiggling rear settled fully on my face, and I felt her capture my own clitoris softly between her lips.

We sucked at one another with perfect rhythm.

With each stroke of her tongue across my clit, I lifted my ass high from the groaning bed, trying for more; and each time my lips pulled at her clit, her cunt would press downward against my face. We were perfectly tuned. My body was taut as a bowstring. My face was wet with the juices of her cunt. My tits were throbbing dully. My cunt was flexing under her expert caresses — and then… she moved away.

She was gone from above me, from between the vee of my legs, so quickly that I had no chance to stop her. Gone — and replaced by Daddy. Daddy, who was naked now. Daddy, who was moving between my legs, his prick hard and ready as he slipped a hand beneath my rear and lifted it high. Daddy, whose body felt hard as a rock when I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist, reaching for him with both hands as I eagerly awaited the thrusting of his cock. Daddy, who seemed to come to me through a blue fog of desire.

"You got it up again, baby," he said in the voice of a stranger, and I was dimly aware that Ken and Jodi were leaving through the door that led to their adjoining room. "You really got it up." And I pulled him into my arms just as I felt my cunt being spread by the knob at the end of his thick cock. We began to fuck.

He was better than Ken. Better than Jodi. Better than any boy I had ever known. He was Daddy, and he was mine. As I sighed my contentment there on the bed of that motel, letting my body move in the flowing motions of a woman who is being fucked, and holding him so that he was nestled against the soft cushions of my tits, I knew we had something that would never end.

And that's the way it has been. The weekend ended, as all good things must, but Mama was none the wiser. And there have been other sessions with Ken and Jodi, just as there have been other couples to take their place.

And each time it happens, each time we swing, I can't help but smile as I recall the words Jodi said that first time in the motel by the beach.

"Your father for mine?"

And so a pattern is formed — a pattern of incest. And it is a pattern that, according to Nora, will continue until it is disrupted by discovery or a disastrous pregnancy.

It is interesting to note that Jodi and her father, according to this latter part of Nora's narrative, had engaged in previous incestuous swapping, a fact which may indicate that this practice is more common than is generally thought.

Interesting, too, is Nora's description of the pseudo lesbian act which she and Jodi used to renew the sexual energies of their fathers, an act which seems imitative of adult swappers. It is accepted as fact by most researchers that such displays of lesbian acts are most often used to stimulate the males in attendance, with true homosexual desire being present in only a small percentage of the women.

But incest is not limited to those who engage in swapping… as we shall see in the next case.