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

CHAPTER FOUR … I'LL DO WHAT SHE WON'T

Faye, the cold old bitch, was stoned out of her mind before ten o'clock. Twice in a row she sloshed gin down the front of her hundred-dollar lounging pajamas. Both times. Dad refilled her glass and laughed along with the titless old bitch about her clumsiness. I waited until he led her off to her room, where she could sleep off her daily fifth, then I went to my room and got ready…

When my stepmother sacked out, I was a standard teen-age chick-black hair that was long and straight, slightly hip. Tight white denims that weren't quite tight enough so's she could bitch about me showing off my ass, a loose blue sweater that just hinted at the tits beneath it. Five or ten minutes later, when Dad came into my room, I was a woman who could match any of those cunts who posed for the dirty pictures in those magazines he constantly bought. As a matter of fact, I'd picked up a trick or three from those magazines.

The outfit I kept hidden in my closet was black as midnight-black thigh-high boots with stiletto heels that left a strip of white thigh showing between them and the silk panties that were slit down the front and back, and a heavy black belt with brass studs. Nothing else. Rouge circled the sharp nipples of my small high tits, making them look larger than they really were. My black cunt-hair puffed through the open front of my panties. The belt fitted snugly into the dip of my tiny waist, held there by a heavy brass buckle. I turned my back to the mirror and looked over my shoulder. The white bottoms, of the cheeks of my ass showed beneath the panties. The heels of the boots were so high that my rather boyish ass seemed fuller when I wore them. Another slit ran down the center of the back of the panties. That made them convenient… any way you wanted it.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall," I'd said, laughing as I looked at the reflection of my ass, my long legs, "who's the hottest fuck of all?" and seen Dad coming into my room as I said it.

"You are, Wanda — you're the hottest fuck of all," he said, then put his arms around me from behind. I watched the reflection of his hands reach up to cover the reflected peaks of my knockers. He tweaked the nipples. I pressed my butt against him. He had a fine hard on.

"Only with you, Press," I said truthfully. Now that the old bitch had conked out we could drop that "Dad" bullshit. We were lovers. "You know that, don't you? You're the guy makes me hottest. You know I'd never done… those things… until I did them with you, don't you?"

"I know," he said, his hands crawling away from my tits, over the heavy belt, onto my panties. We were talking about giving head, giving ass, real ass, things like that. He turned me around.

"Will you do it tonight, Wanda?" he asked, his hands now exploring my ass through the flimsy panties. He spread the rear slit wide, his fingers went between my buttocks. I put my arms around his neck, letting my hard nipples move against the front of his pajamas, and I said, "If you want a show, you'll get a show. I promise, I'll, do what she won't."

We both knew what he meant when he said it.

That was how I got him away from her in the first place.

I took the vibrator from its hiding place beneath the panties in the bottom drawer of my dresser while he quickly stripped himself naked. He sat on the bed, watching intently. His hands were folded across the brownish hair above his cock. His young looking face was flushed with eagerness; the same eagerness sparkled in his eyes. I decided I'd really please him tonight, give him, as Ed Sullivan would say, "a really good show". I stood with my butt touching the top edge of the dresser, the mirror behind me. My feet were far apart.

The vibrator was made of pink plastic that felt cool in my hands. It was shaped like a prick, only bigger than any prick on the face of the earth, and it was very smooth. I twisted the base of it, watching his face as I did so, and a low buzzing filled the room. The plastic cock came alive in my hands. I kissed it; he always got a kick out of that, said I treated it just like his.

Then slowly, the way I knew made him the hottest, leased the tingling vibrator down the smooth column of my throat, holding it in one hand and sideways so the full length of it teased my skin. I let it move teasingly down the upper slope of one tit, feeling the vibrations begin to excite me as it approached my nipple, and with my other hand, not even thinking about it, really. I reached down to spread the front opening of my panties. My nipple sprang out to meet the vibrator.

The contact was like sticking your finger against a live electric wire, except the shock began at the sharp tip of my tit and ran through my body until it reached my booted toes. And it was a good shock. I moved the steadily pulsing vibrator in a slow circle around my nipple, letting it thump delectably against the rouged little tip, and when I could stand it no more I eased the smooth plastic down to the soft underside of my tit. My breast jiggled from the vibrations. I closed my eyes and dug my teeth into my lower lip as I repeated the entire ceremony on the smooth white flesh of my other tit. The tingling was almost unbearably pleasant. I could feel a similar tingling in my clit…

Letting the hand that held the humming vibrator move down so that the throbbing false-cock was roving across my belly, moving closer to the hand that held my panties parted so he could see the black bush and pink frontal lips of my cunt, I opened my eyes long enough to see that Press's hands no longer lay across his upper groin. He was sprawled back on the bed, one hand on his cock, moving slowly, and the other hand rubbing hard at his balls. I pressed the buzzing rod against the hard little hill beneath my panties, the one at the top of my cunt.

Put it in… Let me see you fuck yourself, he pleaded from across the room, and his thickly-muscled chest heaved as his hand moved faster on his prick. His lips were curled back over his teeth. I was hoping he'd stop before he came. That was for me.

I gritted my teeth and flung my head back as I touched the vibrator to the inside of my thighs, just above the boots. My cunt was crying for me to hurry, to drive it home, but the slow torture would, I knew from experience make the final scene even more satisfying… for both of us. I took the vibrator in both hands.

Holding it low between my legs, with my hands on its base, and the smooth, cock-like tip pointing straight up toward my waiting pussy, I slowly bent my knees. My hands moved the buzzing device upward; the room was filled with its droning. I eased it through the slitted panties.

The lips of my pussy turned to jelly at that first touch of the vibe! They always do! It nearly slipped from my trembling fingers. My thighs tried to close; my will and the hot yearning in my cunt was all that kept them open. Once again I touched the vibe to the outer lips of my slit. I heard myself moan softly. My legs trembled as I slowly eased the round top of the vibe between the lips of my pussy. They closed around it.

Tiny needles pierced the pink flesh that was touched by the vibe; my lips — my cunt-lips — seemed to shudder around the shaft they gripped. I gave myself more of the thrilling rod, shoving it deep with a quick lifting of my hands, and my entire cunt was filled with its sensually buzzing length. My clitoris was tight against it, and I could feel the fleshy little pip being flicked back and forth as if a million little elves were pounding it with hammers, each of them determined to make me come just for him. I began to fuck myself with steady strokes of the vibrator. My cunt poured juices down its length.

"This is your prick I'm taking!" I heard myself repeating over and over, in time to the thrusts of the artificial cock. "Your prick… I'm taking… your prick." And in my mind it was. And when I felt myself coming for the first time, I buried the long plastic shaft in my cunt and held it there until my knees threatened to collapse beneath me and I could feel my come wet against my fingers.

Then I staggered blindly across the room to go down on his cock.

Or anything else he wanted.

The still-humming vibrator fell from my numbed fingers and onto the bed as he put his hands on my hips and held me standing in front of him. He leaned forward and pressed his face into the front of my panties, his tongue snaking through the opening and licking hungrily at the top edge of my pussy. To steady myself, I put my hands on his shoulders. He sucked hard on my pussy for a moment, drawing my come into his mouth with a hungry slurping, licked my thighs with his rough tongue, and then returned once more to my cunt. He stayed there until I clawed wildly at his back and came again. Then he helped me onto the bed. I was so weak I needed help.

"You like that better and better every time you do it, don't you?" he said, rolling me on my back and putting one hand between my legs, on the damp bush of my cunt. He rubbed it. "The fuck-shows, I mean."

I looked up into his face and put my hand on his cock. "I like this even better." I squeezed it to emphasize my words. He always got a kick out of dirty talk. "I pretend that's what's inside me when I'm screwing myself with the vibe. That's why I like it."

"You like it enough to take it in the mouth?" He always asked that. Even though I'd given him head so many times we'd lost count, he still asked it. The words were like the show with the vibe; they made it all better for him.

"Enough to suck it until you yell uncle," I said truthfully. "Or to take it up the ass. Or enough so's I'll take it any place you want to put it… any place l"

"You really do, you honestly do like it that much, don't you?" he said, looking down into my face and shaking his head in pleased disbelief. "You'd go for anything I ask, I think."

"Try me and see," I said.

He did.

Elation flashed across his handsome face as I assured him, for what must have been the millionth time, that he had only to ask and I'd give him anything he wanted, then he kissed me hard on the mouth, tonguing me, and rolled away. His hand went behind my head, urging me to bend over and go down on his prick. I needed no urging.

As I knelt beside him and bent low to lick at the head of his prick, he reached under my body arid fingered my tits. I felt my rouged nipples being pinched. They puckered and increased in size as he rolled each of them between a thumb and forefinger. He tugged downward on my hanging tits, drawing them into inverted, sharply-pointed peaks that brimmed with pleasure. I tried to transfer that pleasure into his cock. It was something to be shared.

His prick was wet around the head from the licking of my tongue, but my taste buds told me he hadn't come while I was screwing myself with the vibe. I knew the taste of his come too well to make any mistakes about that. Now, as I squeezed his prick in the trap of my fingers, one silver droplet of come appeared in the tiny eye at the center of the head of his love-stick. One drop. That was all. I licked it away.

Then I formed my lips into a soft oval, lowered my head, my hair cascading down around my face and touching him, and I began using all I knew about the sucking of a cock. I like to think I do it right.

As I covered the head of his cock with my opened lips, holding it poised just inside my mouth and twirling my tongue slowly around its circumference, I felt his hands tighten on my tits. I let his cock slip deeper into my mouth. The head of it pressed against my palate. I went lower. Lower still. He was at my throat. I eased my head upward… slowly… slowly. My lips clung gently to the outer skin of his cock, as though reluctant to release it, and finally they once again held only the spongy head. Quickly, I dropped my head and refilled my mouth with the length of it, then repeated the slow, sucking withdrawal. I felt his hand on the back of my head.

While I explored the wrinkled skin around his nuts with the tips of my fingers, teasing him and making him hotter, I let my head settle into a bobbing motion that carried the soft circle of my clinging lips almost to the base of his prick, then upward in repetitions of the slow sucking I'd given him on the first cycle. His hand just rested on the back of my head, letting me set the speed. I increased it.

As my head bobbed faster and faster over his cock, I took less of it into my mouth with each downward gulping of my mouth. I made up in quality what I was lacking in quantity. My fingers traced crazy designs across his balls, onto the root of his prick. I held his cock so that only the head was between my lips, then sucked on it like a kid going after her first soda. I flicked my tongue down the bluish vein that pulsed along the underside of it, then quickly recaptured the head in my mouth, sucking… sucking… sucking.

His hands guided me around so that I was kneeling with my butt near his shoulders. He reached through the slitted panties and touched my pussy, my ass. The gentle fingers lingered in the crease of my butt.

As I felt him struggle to reach my butt with both hands, I was dimly aware of what he was going to do. I didn't care. If it gave him an extra kick that was okay by me. Then, as he settled both hands on the twin swells of my upraised ass, I felt the purring of the plastic cylinder he held in his hand. The vibe! I began to masturbate him into my mouth.

Throughout the minutes since I'd fallen onto the bed, the vibrator had been droning steadily in my ears, unnoticed as I went about the pleasant chore of sucking him off. Now, as I steadily manipulated the rod of his prick with my lips and my tongue and my fingers, I felt it singing its song against the filmy panties that so beautifully framed the cheeks of my ass. I felt those cheeks being spread by his hands. The vibe tingled in the dip between them. I paused with my lips poised above the head of his cock as I waited excitedly for what I knew was coming. His finger touched the puckered circle of my asshole. It slipped in. The vibe, held in his other hand, moved closer.

The muscles in my buttocks tightened spasmodically as his finger moved in and out of the tight little tunnel of my asshole, going deeper with each thrust, and then he pulled it out. I bit my lip as the head of the vibe tingled between my buttocks, against the same little circle his finger had vacated. The tingling became a throbbing as he pressed it harder against the entry to my rear. The throbbing turned to dull pain — and then the pain was gone. Vanished. The vibrator was inside my ass. I could feel my every nerve reacting to the fluctuating pressure inside my rear. The pain had changed to pleasure. I returned to the sucking of his cock.

As I circled the head of his cock with my lips and began once more to masturbate him with my fingers, I felt the humming vibrator dig deeper and deeper into my asshole. The tight little tunnel was yielding to it slowly but surely, and the sensations that shook my rear were quickly transmitted forward to my cunt. He eased the vibe out, then shoved it in… deeper! The cheeks of my ass quivered around it. He moved it in slow fucking strokes, strokes that I matched with my lips and fingers. The vibe moved faster in my rear. So did my lips.

It may have been an inch deep, it may have been six; I don't know. But I could feel it with every pore of my body. I could feel his breath against my naked upper legs, harsh and unsteady. And suddenly he forced the big vibe so deep inside my asshole that I felt a searing pain so unexpected that I threw my head back and gasped… just as sparkling come squirted upward from the eye of his prick.

He held the vibe deep inside my wiggling butt, pleading urgently for me to get back on his cock and suck him dry, and I bit into my lower lip until I felt a trickle of blood. I licked it away. There was come there, too, from the first gush that had splashed against my face.

As the strangely sweet pain faded from inside me, I took his cock back into my mouth and pulled gently on it until the last spurt of come had died away; and as I did so, I felt him slowly ease the vibrator out of my rear. My rear still tingled, even after it was gone.

Then I snuggled up girlishly beside him, knowing I'd get mine later, when he could get it up again. I always did.

As I cuddled there in his arms, my fingers stroking his naked chest, I looked down at the vibrator that lay beside his leg. It was silent now, but I could still feel its pulsing inside my rear.

Such a big thing. So immense. So much bigger than any cock that ever existed. It was a wonder, I told myself, that any girl's cunt could handle it. Even more of a wonder that a girl — especially a small girl like me — could take it in the ass. That thought made me smile. There's been a time, and not too long ago, when it would've been too much. Far too much. A time, even, when I'd felt sure I couldn't even bear taking his cock up my rear.

I reached down to touch the silent vibrator as I thought about the night he'd showed me I could.

We were lying in bed, naked, looking at a book of dirty pictures he'd brought up from his room. It was about a month after we'd made it for the first time, and I was just beginning to learn about the things that really turned him on. Looking at dirty pictures was one of those things. He had a real collection. This was one of the best, all in color, and full of beautiful broads making it with guys who were hung like mules. I had my hand on his cock and could feel it getting harder each time he turned a page. I was turned on, too.

"Ever see a girl take it like that?" he asked, stopping at a two-page sequence of color photos that showed an unbelievably statuesque young blonde being fucked in the ass. I blinked as he held the book up so I could see more easily. I'd never known a girl could be fucked back there. But this girl was.

The first photo showed her standing and bending forward at the waist, her head resting against a table of some sort. Her hands were behind her, gripping the cheeks of her ass and spreading them wide. Her voluptuous tits hung beneath her. Behind her stood a naked man, his cock aimed at the ass she held ready. In the next photo, he stood with his groin pressed against her buttocks.

He might have been simply fucking her from behind — except that in the following photos they had somehow managed to show the penetration of his cock. The head of it rested against her brown little asshole in one. In the next it was gripped by the rubbery-looking circle. Other photos showed him reaching beneath her to hold her big, delicious-looking tits as he fucked her in the ass. Close-ups of her face showed her lips drawn back from her perfect white teeth, as if she were coming.

"She really looks like she's busting her nuts, don't she?" I heard him say, and tore my eyes away from the pictures. He looked very excited: I turned the page. "She must be some kind of freak," I said. I felt his hand stroking my cunt.

"Lots of women, like it that way. Lots of women'd rather have it in the ass than any other place," he said, rubbing his hand down across my cunt and reaching so far between my legs that I felt the tips of his fingers touch the smooth globes of my ass. I realized, then, that he was hinting he wanted to fuck me there.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" I asked bluntly. He kissed me once on the lips, his hand still stroking, then said, "Only that a lot of women like it in the ass. You might be one."

I said dubiously, "I'm afraid it'd hurt like hell."

"Not the way I'll do it," he said, his voice trembling as he dropped the book of photos. As his hands urged me over onto my belly, the anxious tone in his voice told me he was almost desperate to do it that way. His hands shook as he stroked the yielding flesh of my buttocks. I pressed my cunt down against the sheets.

"Such a fine little ass… I'd break it in gently. Never hurt it." He was between my open legs, bending low to kiss the creamy cheeks of my rump. "I'd just give you a little the first time." He kissed me on the right cheek, then the left. "And you'd love it. I know you would." His hands pried my buttocks apart. "We'll grease it up, so it doesn't hurt. So it feels good… like this."

And I felt him press his face hard against the crack of my ass, his lips centered over the tight little entry. The thrusting of his tongue, straining for entry into my ass, caused me to claw at the sheets.

Dimly, I realized that he had done it this way before, and I saw a picture of him doing it that way to Faye. I made up my mind. If he wanted to put it in my ass, he could put it in my ass. I'd do anything before I'd lose him back to that old bitch.

I said softly, "Promise you'll go easy this time," and was rewarded by a deep probing of his wet tongue before he left me and went to get the jar of Vaseline from the bathroom. He was back in a moment.

He sat beside me on the bed and dipped his fingers in the greenish-white grease, then carefully rubbed it on the head of his cock. It made his cock glisten. Then he reached for me. Just before I closed my eyes I saw him dip one finger in the jar and withdraw a thick gob of the Vaseline. It felt cold as he touched it to my ass.

"Get up on your hands and knees," he commanded. I did.

When I felt his greased finger probe at the circle of my asshole, I clamped my teeth tight and closed my eyes, and I felt myself shaken by a flash of pain as his finger slipped inside me. I managed to stay quiet as he moved it in and out. Then he was kneeling behind me. His hands pushed my knees far apart on the bed.

"It'll be easier if you hold it open," he said, and I felt his cock probing at the greasy crack of my ass. I leaned forward until my forehead was resting against the cool sheets, then reached back with both hands, grabbed the soft flesh of my ass and held it ready.

The first pain was unbelievable! My asshole was being ripped apart! Tears rushed from my eyes as I felt myself being stretched to take a cock where I was never meant to have one. I cried out against the sheets. I tried to writhe away from the cock that was spearing me… And then, just when I thought I'd go crazy from it, the pain reached a peak and began to diminish. It was still there but it was dimmer, more bearable, and I remember knowing that the pain was less because his cock had passed the restraining barrier at the rim of my ass.

I could feel it inside me, sliding back and forth through the tight passage he'd lubricated with the Vaseline. It filled me. No, it more than filled me. It packed me. That's the only way to describe the tightness I felt in my ass… I was packed.

After that first rush of pain was over, I became more aware of the other sensations. His hands clutching my belly. His cock-hair tickling my bare rump. The increasing speed with which his prick slid in and out of my rear as he bucked and heaved behind me.

And, just as the feel of his cock was turning my pain into pleasure, there was a great squirting of come that caused his cock to slip from my hole and left me once again feeling the pain.

I ached for a long time afterward, and I argued like hell the next time he wanted me to take it in the ass. And the next. Each time, though, I gave in, and each time the ache was less. And then it was gone, and I suppose my reactions were pretty much like those of the blonde in the photos. I loved it.

From a tight little girl who was frightened and needed her asshole greased, I had been transformed into a woman. My rear had opened like a flower, gotten so large I could take him easily. Hell, I could even take a few inches of that big vibrator.

Now, smiling to myself, I lifted the vibrator and kissed it. Press — Dad, that is — had no idea what I always thought when I did that. It was my secret joke.

"I kissed the vibrator because that was what I used to take him away from my bitch of a stepmother in the first place."

There can be no doubt that jealousy was the primary motivation behind Wanda's incestuous tendencies. She detested her stepmother, as she makes perfectly clear in this first portion of her narrative, and expresses an almost sadistic pleasure over the knowledge that she is taking the older woman's place in the arms of her father.

Unlike many subjects who are willing to discuss the commission of incest, Wanda does not seek to justify or mitigate her actions by attributing them to love or spur-of-the-moment impulses. Instead, she simply describes her acts in the most carnal way possible, leaving the interviewer and the reader to draw whatever conclusions they wish.

A brief look at Wanda's past may make these conclusions more accurate.

Wanda was an only child. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her. She was raised by a series of aunts, with her father coming to visit when possible. These visits grew to be the great moments in her young life; she looked forward to them with eagerness. And, of course, she idolized her father. His visits meant ball games, trips to the park, new clothing and toys. She and she alone was the object of his affection. He might kiss her aunts in a brotherly fashion, but it was clear that he loved her the most.

This was the life Wanda lived until she reached the age of twelve.

Then came the announcement, a pleasant one at first. She was getting a new mother. She would once again be able to live with her father. At first she was pleased. Soon, she found that their outings came less and less frequently, and that they had to be shared with Faye, her stepmother. Faye also shared in the affection of her father. And Faye was allowed to discipline her. She came to hate the older woman.

Only at a much later time did Wanda see her own sexuality as a means of regaining her father's full affection. This she did with a vengeance.

The oralism and analism described by Wanda seem to support Wayland Young's theory that the destruction of the taboo against incest is likely to lead to the destruction of all taboos among the partners who engage in incest. This, however, may be a hasty conclusion. It must be remembered, as is revealed by certain portions of Wanda's story, that her father was a man for whom these taboos against oralism and analism did not exist. His sexual desires tended toward the exotic and the bizarre, as shown by his voyeuristic enjoyment of her sexual exhibition, his collection of erotica. It is certain that Wanda's father had practiced — or had the desire to practice — both oral and anal intercourse long before he committed incest with his daughter. It is just as certain that he would have found an outlet for these sexual desires even if his daughter had been unwilling to provide one.

As for Wanda, any revulsion or disgust she may have felt while engaging in these acts — and she says little that would indicate she suffered from such feelings — was far outweighed by the knowledge that her participation in these acts was a weapon which could be used in her battle to regain the full affections of her father. If the taboos against oral and anal intercourse existed at all within the mind of Wanda, they existed only as rules which could be brushed aside in the name of expediency.

As a matter of fact, it may be that a great majority of our society no longer recognizes the taboo against oralism, and that analism, more repugnant to some because of the excretory functions of the anus, is gaining wider acceptance. A myth has contributed much to the stronger taboo against analism; this is the widespread belief that it is the means of intercourse used by male homosexuals, the act of inverts. Freud was aware of the absurdity of this notion. He wrote:

The playing of a sexual part by the mucous membrane of the anus is by no means limited to men. On the contrary, it seems that paedecatio with a male owes its origin to an analogy with a similar act performed with a woman; while mutual masturbation is the sexual aim most often found in intercourse between inverts.

As for oralism, Freud wrote:

It is only in the rarest instances that the physical valuation that is set on the sexual object, as being the goal of the sexual instinct, stops short at its genitals. The appreciation extends to the whole body of the sexual object and tends to involve every sensation derived from it… The sexual over-valuation is something that cannot be easily reconciled with a restriction of the sexual aim to union of the actual genitals and it helps to turn activities connected with other parts of the body into sexual aims.

What Freud seems to be saying in this quote, even though he often referred to oral-genital contact as a "perversion", is that all of us have within us the desire for oral contact with the genitals of the person chosen as our sexual partner, or "object", as Freud called it.

Oralism and analism are of secondary interest to this study of daughter-father incest, of course, and are mentioned here only because they were the methods of sexual contact employed by Wanda and her father.

Oral and anal intercourse, it seems reasonable to conclude, occur in incestuous relationships with a frequency that is neither greater, nor less than in other sexual unions. The oralism and the analism are not the factors which motivate the incest — from Wanda's viewpoint, at least, in this case — but are a means of consummating it. The desire to commit incest would remain, even if both daughter and father were nauseated by the thought of oral and anal intercourse.

In this case, Wanda had made of her father an idol… an idol with feet of clay. It is known by psychologists that we tend to make of our childhood a peaceful memory into which we can at times retreat, thus escaping the frustrations we face, and that we people this memory with false images of our parents.

Of this false memory Freud said, "It seems that childhood is not the blissful idyll into which we later distort it, that, on the contrary, children are lashed through the years of childhood by the wish to become big and imitate and compete with the grown-ups."

So it was that Wanda blamed her stepmother for the destruction of this "blissful idyll" and for the loss of her father's affection.

And how much easier it would be for a child to compete with a woman whom she disliked. It was this instinctive desire to compete, a desire which Wanda recognized as she reached her early teens, that led to the first incestuous union between daughter and father.

Though Wanda readily and openly recognized this need to compete, she was slower in realizing that she desired to compete sexually, and it was only after a great deal of mental struggle that she reached the decision that was to lead her into the sexual relationship with her father.

As I turned the cock-like vibrator slowly over and over in my hand, looking at it through eyes that were heavy with sleep, I found myself remembering the first time I'd seen it. That night, almost six months ago, had changed my life.

I'd been in bed, half asleep, when I heard them arguing in their room, really going at it, and I laughed to myself as I slipped on a robe and crept quietly through the house to listen. I was hoping he'd knock the old bitch's teeth out, I guess.

I stopped at the dark little alcove in the hallway, where I could see through the half-opened door to their room. Their lights were on, and I could see my father sitting on the bed. He had on a pair of white shorts, nothing else. Faye was out of sight.

"You get more… more freakish every week," I heard her say in that shrill voice that always scrapes across my nerves. "I never know what kind of perverted thing you'll dream up next. Well, this one's too much, Press. I won't do it."

"Perverted, my aching ass!" he said loudly. His face was a dark red. "Anything except a straight fuck is perverted to a cold old bitch like you. You think that cunt of yours is a Goddamned prize or something!"

Faye stepped out where I could see her. She was naked except for a pair of pale blue panties, and I could see the dark hair of her cunt through them. Her tits were little, far smaller than mine, and I wondered what my father had ever seen in her. Then I noticed the object she held in her hand.

"I've done a lot… a lot of things to keep you happy," she said. "But I won't lower myself by inserting this… thing into myself while you watch." She looked sourly down at the tube in her hand.

I had just a brief glimpse of it before she threw it on the bed and said, "If you can't do it without things like that, we'll just not do it at all." She stepped out of sight again.

"You can't even call it what it is, can you, you cold-assed cunt? You can't even say fucking, can you?" he shouted.

"Well, I'll tell you why I need a show, 'cause fucking you is like sticking it in a dead mule, that's why!"

I knew that she'd soon be coming out of their bedroom after a remark like that, so I went quickly back to my own room and got in bed. Then I thought about what I'd seen. Even then, I knew that he'd wanted Faye to fuck herself with the tube I'd seen her holding. I didn't know exactly what it was, of course, and I really wasn't too concerned with that. I just wondered why she wouldn't do it.

Didn't she know how lucky she was to have a man like my father? Didn't she know most women would be happy to do anything for a man like that? Or didn't she even care? Maybe the tube could hurt a woman's pussy in some way, I thought. Just before I dropped off to sleep, I decided to find out for myself.

I got my chance the next time the two of them left the house together. It took me almost an hour to find it. It was hidden in a box in their closet, a box that was almost filled with pictures of men and women sucking each other off, fucking in ways I'd never seen. I sat on their bed and looked at the cylinder.

It was molded in the shape of a cock, maybe eight inches long, with one end swelling outward in imitation of a head. The other end had a ridged base. I turned it. A humming sound came from inside it, my fingers were tickled by a steady vibration. It felt… good…!

It would feel good inside a pussy, vibrating against the wetly clinging flesh, too, I realized, and I knew that my father had been right when he said Faye was nothing but a cold-assed bitch! There was no other reason. God! How I hated that woman!

Any other woman would be glad to… to so even the things the men and women were doing in the glossy photos I'd scattered around the bed. They'd be glad to fuck themselves off with the singing cock I held in my hand… if only to please him.

I'd be glad to do it, I was suddenly thinking.

And I found myself wondering how it would be… standing naked in front of him and doing it to myself — no, not doing it, as Faye called it — fucking myself and watching him get hotter and hotter and then…

Sprawling back on the bed with my legs over the side, I lifted my ass and pulled my skirt up around my waist. With the fingers of my left hand, I held the crotch of my panties aside, and with my right hand I touched the vibrator to the lips of my pussy. I closed my eyes, lifted my hips slightly, and moaned as the quivering prick slid home. I soon had myself coming.

Not until I'd slipped the vibrator from my cunt, wiped it on my skirt, turned off its batteries and was getting ready to put it back in the box did I realize what I'd been thinking as I fucked myself. I'd Imagined myself doing it in front of a man, a faceless stranger at first, who gradually took on the face of my father. And then… he'd been between my legs, fucking me and telling me how much he liked to see me do that. And then I was coming. I looked at the vibrator, puzzled at its power, and I made a decision.

"You've found a new home, lover," I said, then put the rest of the stuff away and went to my room.

He missed it, of course, and just knowing it was possible that he suspected me made those visions of him even stronger on the nights I'd strip off my panties and use it on myself. Soon I even found myself thinking of him during the day, wondering what he'd say if he knew about the things we did in my erotic dreams.

Then I began wanting him to know about them, and wanting him to make them reality.

That nagged at me for a long time before I quit fighting it and admitted what I guess had been in my mind all along, that I wanted to be fucked by my father. After that admission was made it wasn't too long before I saw that it was possible. I decided to make it happen.

Why not? Faye was hitting the bottle pretty heavy by then; she wasn't worth the trouble of fucking, as he had said, and I wanted him… wanted him so bad. Maybe he'd even get rid of her, I thought.

I went to work on my father.

I used little things at first… things like walking around the house in my underwear, giving him a chance to see I had tits and an ass that bitch Faye could never match. Things like that.

She noticed the way he looked at me when I did that and she started bitching about it, so I had to go slower. I started giving him hot looks across the table next. The way I'd catch him looking at my tits and ass after that told me he'd caught those looks. Then I got the idea that did the trick.

I waited until I heard him in the hallway outside my room one night, then I put the idea to use.

Taking the vibrator from its hiding place and holding it against the door, I turned it on. I hoped he could hear the humming through the door. In case he couldn't, I whimpered softly, doing a bad imitation of a girl who's coming. It was a long time before I heard him leave the door.

He came to my room the next evening, looking nervous as hell. I waited for him to ask. He looked pitiful as he prowled around my room, making small talk, not looking at me as I sat on the edge of the bed. Finally, he asked, "Did you take something from my room, Wanda?" I saw him wipe his palms across his trousers.

"What would I take from your room?" I asked innocently. I knew this was it. I had to go through with my plan. Casually, I stood and began to unbutton my blouse, as if getting ready for bed, just a daughter undressing in front of her father. He looked away.

"It was… just a device," he said as I tossed my blouse on the bed. I unzipped my skirt, stepped casually out of it and asked, "What kind of device?"

"Did you take anything out of my room?" he asked, and I saw him wet his lips as his eyes flicked down across my skimpy bra, lower still, onto the tiny bikini panties I wore. He seemed hypnotized as he added, "Anything at all?"

"Why don't you ask Faye?" I said with a sudden brazenness that surprised me. I stepped closer to him, rolling my hips suggestively. "Maybe she has it. Maybe she's using it."

He stared at me. "You did take it, didn't you?"

I had gone too far to turn back, I stepped very close to him. My arms went around his neck. My bra touched his shirt. "I won't tell you," I said. "But I'll show you. Oh, Dad, I'll do the things she won't. All of them."

At first I thought he was going to hit me. His face went dark, his eyes almost closed. But then he reached up and, without a word, pulled my arms from around his neck. I felt a moment of crazy panic as he started out the door and I pleaded, "Come back after she goes to sleep. I… please… just come back." He walked out without another word.

But he came back… just as I'd asked.

It was late when I heard him coming. At first, I couldn't believe it. I'd almost convinced myself that he hated me… and now he was coming. I was out of the bed and standing beside the door when he opened it. I threw my arms around his neck. For just a moment his body tightened and then he was kissing me on the mouth and easing me back into the room and his hands were on my ass.

He kicked the door shut behind himself.

He wore only the bottoms of his pajamas. As he held me close against him, sucking on the tongue I had snaked into his mouth, I could feel the hard swell of his prick pressing against the little hillock above my cunt. His hands were warm through my sheer bikini panties. The sharp paints of my bra cups were pressed against his muscular chest. Then I felt the edge of the bed against the backs of my knees. We fell across the bed.

As I felt his strange fingers slip beneath the cups of my bra, pulling them up to bare my untanned tits with their erected nipples, my fingers fluttered wildly over his naked chest and back, tangled themselves in his hair. Our tongues rolled together. My tits were in his hands, toys that he played with.

I arched my back and shivered and my hand went searching far his cock. Just as he ended our kiss and his lips moved, down to suck hungrily at the elongated nipple of my left tit. I found the opening at the front of his pajamas. My hand slipped in. The fingers closed around his cock. They pulled it through the front of his pajamas.

No vibrator ever felt as good as that cock, that warm, hard cock. It was made far my hand, I knew.

It belonged there. I wanted to hold it forever. As I slipped my fingers up and down its length, I felt my nipple being sucked into his mouth, released, sucked in again, and my fingers moved faster because of it. When his teeth nipped at the pointed tip of my tit, my fingers reacted by squeezing his cock with all the strength they possessed.

His hand slipped inside my panties. I writhed on the bed and my pelvis twisted so that my cunt was raised to meet his fingers. He caressed it with his hand, making it warm and wet.

"Turn on a lamp. I want to see you naked," he said. His hand had slipped from between my legs. He touched me on the butt as I rolled from the bed to turn on the small lamp on the table by the window. He was stepping out of his pajama bottoms when its glow filled the room. His hand touched his hard prick.

"You sure that little cunt of yours can handle this?" It surprised me, him saying something like that. Later, of course, I learned he got a kick out of talking that way. I must have had some idea of it even then, because instinctively I said, "Don't I look like it?" and with an impish look on my face I slowly stripped away my bra, then teasingly ran my hands over my naked tits, cupping the sharp little peaks of soft white flesh and then pressing them inward so that the red nipples, wet and swollen from the sucking of his mouth, were close together.

He sat on the edge of the bed, entranced, as I released my tits and slowly caressed my soft belly with downward strokes of my fingers, stopping when my fingertips were hidden beneath the top edge of my little bikini panties. His eyes widened as I slowly peeled them down over my hips, my thighs, and stepped out of them. I posed with my hands on my hips, the tips of my fingers almost touching the outer edges of the thick bush around my cunt, and I asked huskily, "Doesn't this cunt look like it was made for that? It's just dying to get filled up."

He nodded his head and held out his arms. His eyes stayed locked on my cunt as, with slowly undulating hips. I walked toward him. His hands found the cheeks of my ass and pulled me toward him.

I gasped for breath as he pressed his face against the soft swell of my belly, then quickly dipped his head and began kissing the thickly tangled hair around my cunt. It was the first time anyone had kissed me there.

He bent lower still, straining to reach the lips of my pussy with his mouth. His tongue lapped at me. I opened my legs till I felt I would split. His tongue touched the edge of my cunt, just the edge, I but it caused me to cry out as I squirmed violently and tried to make it easier for him. His arms went around my thighs, pulling them together, and I felt myself being lifted.

And then I was on the bed. Flat on my back. My legs extended. He was between them. His hard chest was touching my thighs as he moved downward, bringing his face closer and closer to my pussy. He pushed my legs apart. I felt him grip my right ankle and lift it as high as he could reach. He buried his face in my cunt.

I swear the bed began to spin as his wet prick of a tongue found its way into my open gash. It tilted and dipped and rocked as he licked at my cunt like a puppy lapping warm milk. When I reached down with one hand and grabbed the back of his head, tugging him deeper into the hairy nest between my legs, he began licking me faster and deeper. My ass lifted and fell beneath him. There was a hand on my tit, torturing it with a pinch each time his tongue lapped my pussy. Looking down across my body, I saw the hand was my own. I kept it there.

He lifted his face from my cunt. "Tell me I eat good pussy," he said, then allowed my straining hand to draw him back into the crazily hungering slit between my legs. And as he licked me faster and faster across the exquisitely sensitive swelling of my clit, I repeated over and over, "You eat good pussy, you eat good pussy," and his tongue moved faster and the words ran together and became, "YoueatpussYoueatpussYou…!" And every muscle in my body tautened as I felt myself coming into his mouth.

The release sent me into a dizzying spin that caused me to fling my arms wide and clutch at the sheets. I was only vaguely aware of his hands moving up my body, of his mouth moving across my tits, into the hollow of my throat. Then I felt the first touch of his cock. My arms went around his naked back.

With delightful slowness, his cock spread the wet, rubbery lips of my pussy. I felt them settle around the tip of his prick, then an inch of it, then two. He put his mouth on mine. I parted my lips.

There was a delicious tang on his lips and tongue the taste of cunt, I realized as I moved my lips beneath his. As his cock moved gently back and forth in the wet cradle of my cunt, going slightly deeper with each churn of his hips. I put one hand on each side of his face, holding him delicately as I sucked at his tongue. He reacted by giving me more of his cock — a hard stab of it!

I wrapped both legs around his body and lifted my cunt to meet the next strike. It brought us together with a delicious touching of crotches, and I felt his hand slip between our bodies and find the yielding flesh of my tit. As he squeezed it and moved it so that the hard little nipple rasped against his chest I let my hips roll in slow circles that added even more pleasure to the steady stroking of his cock…

It was deep inside me now. I could feel it moving against places that had never before felt the touch of hard cock. It felt warm inside the come-dampened recess of my cunt. Each thrust and retreat made it feel warmer still. And the thrusts were coming faster.

He was breathing heavily against my throat, and I could feel his hand tighten around my tit each time he drove his cock into me. As his hips swung upward and his cock withdrew, the hand on my tit would relax. His belly was hard as it slapped against the softness of mine. I put my hands in the small of his back, giving myself more leverage to lift myself and meet his strokes. He suddenly threw his head back and I felt the full pressure of his cock rubbing across my clitoris as he bucked and heaved between my legs.

That sensuous friction across my already pulsing clitoris sent me into another of those dizzying spins that caused me to claw at his back with my nails as I thrashed beneath him, blind with orgasm. He strained hard above me, pressing himself into the moving wetness of my cunt with all his strength, and then he, too, was coming. It ended too soon.

"We forgot all about the vibrator," I said later, as we lay naked beside each other, lazily watching the blue smoke from the cigarette we were sharing curl upward toward the ceiling. Our bodies were barely touching. His hand rested on my belly.

"I didn't forget. I just knew that if you got me any hornier, I'd be climbing the wall," he said chuckling. He turned on his side, so he was looking into my eyes. "You know what'll happen to me if we let anyone know about this, don't you?"

I nodded my head, and he said, "I'm a bastard for doing it. A real bastard. But I just kept thinking about it and thinking about it. And Faye was asleep…"

"Shhh!" I touched his lips with my finger. "I wanted you to do what you did. I want you to keep on doing it. And nobody will ever know." I laughed as I thought of something. "And it's called fucking, not doing it. Remember that!"

That puzzled him until I laughed again and explained it.

While the cigarette slowly turned to ashes, we talked. He seemed somehow ashamed of what he'd done, and frightened, and I tried to make him see that what we'd done was right, that it was what I'd wanted for as long as I could remember, and that I'd never been happier in my life. As he lit and smoked another cigarette, he told me that he thought Faye might be right, that maybe he was some kind of pervert because he liked it best when he was doing it in some way that was different from the way others lucked. When he said that, and added that that might be the reason he'd come to bed with me, I felt so sorry for him I wanted to cry. And I hated that bitch Faye more than ever.

"Don't ever say that again," I said, kissing him and pressing the full length of my naked body against his. "Fuck Faye! Fuck what she says! You're no pervert. But if you are, I'm even worse," I put my hand on his cock, "because I want you to fuck me again."

He did.

As I teased at his cock with my fingers, feeling it slowly regain its hardness, he leaned over to snuff the cigarette in the ashtray beside the bed. He put his arms around me as I rolled on top of him. I felt his cock against my belly. His hands went to the cheeks of my ass, then slipped down the backs of my widespread legs.

Kissing him hard on the mouth, I slipped my hand between us and put his cock where it belonged. It slipped easily into the come-drenched slit of my cunt.

We began to fuck.

I set the pace of our movements, letting my hips roll in slow undulations, moving my shoulders from side to side so that my tits swayed above him, the stiff little nipples dragging across his chest; and he caressed the cheeks of my ass with his hands, gently, just running his fingers over the velvety orbs. My ass fit nicely into his hands… and his cock fit well into me.

It was a different feeling, this fucking with me on the top. It allowed me to enjoy all the sensual pleasure of contact with his body. The feel of his hips lifting between my legs. The touch of his pubic hair against my belly. The probing of his tongue into my mouth. The growing sensations inside my cunt. My hips began lifting higher onto his cock, falling back with more force.

"Look at that… look at yourself fuck," he said, and he suddenly put his hands under my shoulders and lifted me. I bent one knee, raising myself slightly, and I looked down across my body. Through the valley between my dangling tits, I could see the thick root of his cock where it was swallowed up by my lower body, the dark hair of his pubis, but that was all. From his viewpoint, I suppose, he was probably able to see the lips of my cunt, the way they moved as we lucked. The thought was somehow exciting.

The new position forced me to move my pelvis in shorter, choppier strokes that were no less exciting than the longer, slower ones had been. They were better, if anything. I looked down at his flushed face, saw that he was intently staring at the place where our bodies joined, and I looked down there, too.

It was easy to pretend I could see it all.

The pink lips of my cunt would be opening and closing as they sought to cling to the hard staff of his prick. That staff would glisten wetly with the oils of fucking. I saw it all in my mind…

It was just like the dreams I'd dreamed when I was screwing myself with the vibrator. The vision was as clear as if I'd been a third person, a stranger, standing beside the bed and watching the two of us fuck.

And it sent me into a flurry of passionate thrashing that drove me into orgasm after orgasm and lasted until long after he had slammed his cock hard into me for the last time, released his come inside me, and gone soft between my legs.

Faye's love for the bottle made it easy for us to get together, and the eagerness with which I learned to do the things he liked — all the things he liked — made it easier for my father to accept. It really turned him on when he saw that I actually liked them.

But the bit with the vibe was my favorite, because that was the one that brought him from Faye to me. And now, as I looked at the silent plastic cylinder, I knew that she'd never get him back.

"Never!"

So from incestuous fantasy and the desire to compete for affection, both of which are a basic part of human nature, Wanda advanced to actual commission of the act, and into a continuing affair which threatens disaster.

This case is an example of incest initiated at the want of the daughter, spurred onward by both love and hatred, the two most violent emotions. Hate, just like love, is a pathway to incest.