"Putting Out For Pop" - читать интересную книгу автора (Bangcroft Nan)

Chapter 4

After he had shanked his third drive off the practice tee, Mike jammed the driver back in the bag and stamped off to the clubhouse. It was impossible, he thought dismally, to hit a decent drive when all you could see was your daughter's naked body. He wasn't sure which was worst: the gnawing guilt over what he had done, or the aching, horny desire to do it again.

Now, he mused, he was afraid to go home. He was afraid that she would be there, waiting for him. He knew it would be impossible to resist her siren call, no matter how hard he tried. He was afraid, though, that she wouldn't have to even hint that she wanted him* He was terrified he might actually rape his own daughter.

"Double scotch,” he said as he slumped down at the bar. Resolutely, he kept his back toward the door, kept his shoulders hunched in silent rejection of companionship. The bartender, showing the skillful tact of that breed, served him silently, and left the chit un»totaled.

What the hell was he going to do, Mike wondered. He had to live with the girl. She was his daughter. He couldn't send her away-she was only seventeen, just entering her last year of high school. One more year, and she would have been in college, and the whole thing would never have happened.

He considered moving out himself. But he couldn't abandon the kids. After all, why should Gabby and Patty suffer for what he and Micaela had done? They didn't have anyone else, what with all the grandparents gone, and no aunts or uncles.

The scotch burned his throat and started into his bloodstream. He felt his muscles begin to relax for the first time since it had happened two days ago. He rapped his glass on the bar. The bartender came over and refilled it.

Mike thought again of that night. The ache in his gut swelled and pulsed, threatened to devour him. Christ, if only it had been just once, he could pass it off as a mistake. But it hadn't been just once. He had taken her again, right there on the sofa. His cock had risen to the occasion like a damn animal. She had welcomed him the second time even more eagerly than she had the first. It had lasted longer, oh, so exquisitely much longer. Her sweat-slick body under his had humped eagerly as he had driven into it. She had stripped him naked between bouts. Then they had coupled in a tangle of arms and legs. Her breasts had been twin cushions against his hairy chest.

He felt his cock rise and stiffen. He was glad he could hide his hard-on, because he sure couldn't stop thinking of Micaela. How her eyes had flashed and her fingers had clawed at him. He remembered how tight and hot her cunt had been. She had arched and scratched as he had reamed her with his cock. He had ground his pubis against hers as he struggled to touch bottom with his dick.

Mike tossed off the second double scotch and rapped for a third. He didn't notice that the bartender shorted him on the measure this time. Bartenders know, the good ones anyway. Mike swilled the booze around in his mouth.

She had been an imp, a flashing, darting elf of lust. If imps and elf’s were built the way she was. No, those terms were more for Patty and Gabby. Micaela had taken his second gusher of cum with a wail of ecstasy. Her cunt had spasmed around his jetting cock, her fingernails had raked his back. She had arched off the sofa, held more than half his weight on her groin. God! It had been better even than it had been with her mother. She seemed to have no inhibitions, only instincts.

He'd felt like a kid, a stupid, fucking kid. Proud, just because he could get it up for a second go-around. She had dumped him off her and scampered through the house. Her full tits had jiggled excitingly while his cum, stained with the pink swirls of her virginity, drizzled from her sodden cunt.

Laughing and snorting like a fool, he had pursued her, and caught her, and loved her with his hands and his mouth. His cock had risen to the occasion yet again, though his groin had ached in protest. But, instead of taking him willingly, she had teased him then. She led him, guided him to the shower. She had twisted and turned under the spray while he bathed her. Then, scented and powdered and squeaky clean, she had insisted that he shower, too.

When he had come out, she had been waiting for him, in bed, in his bed, nude and luscious and lovely. The covers had been thrown casually off the bed. She had been there on the white sheet, her naked body a study in pink and white, with auburn hair.

She had cuddled his head as he nursed on her tits. He had tongued her rosy buds until they were stiff and hard, and glistening with spit. Then, dear God, she had eased him onto his back, straddled him, and lowered herself on his aching hard-on. The hot, wet, velvety sucking glove of her cunt had swallowed his thrusting phallus yet again. He had looked down, and watched it vanish into her red muff.

She had ridden him like he was a stallion. She had bounced in the saddle without getting unseated. His prick had been burned numb from the endless stimulation. He had reached up and clutched her breasts. She had thrown her head back like a spirited mare as his fingers bruised her soft, tender flesh. While he watched, she had reached down and found her clit and diddled herself to a flaring peak while pogo-sticking up and down, up and down, up and down on his aching, exhausted, rock-hard cock.

He hadn't thought he could possibly come a third time. But she kept doing it, kept bouncing and bouncing and bouncing, until he thought his prick was going to get wrenched off. She had swung her hips with a whore's skill, until finally his aching groin had reached the flash point and erupted. Only there wasn't any cum left to pump, so he just spasmed in dry heaves. He had felt like he was being hacked in two with a dull ax.

Then, his dick still in her wet, warm hole, she had slumped on top of him, and sunk into a deep, contented sleep. They had spent the night that way: cuddled together on the same bed on which he had asked her.

And now he was afraid to go home, for fear he'd do it again. "No!" he said, slamming his glass down on the bar.

"You all right, Mr. Kelly?" the bartender asked.

"Do you have any daughters, Sam?" he asked.

"No, no daughters," Sam answered sadly. "No sons. No family at all.”

"You have no idea how lucky you are," Mike answered, reaching for the chit. He added a generous tip and signed it. "You have no idea how lucky you are.”

Leaving Sam standing there looking puzzled, Mike made his way out of the bar. He managed to walk a reasonably straight course in spite of the three drinks. Once he was in the car, he gripped the wheel. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to be there when he got home, or not. One part of him didn't want her there, but another part, the aching, itching part between his legs, was praying that she would be. The scotch tipped the balance.

The five minute drive seemed to take an hour. He was shaking when he turned in and parked in the driveway. Christ, it reminded him of when he had been fifteen and first dating. It took all his courage to go to the door. He was afraid that she wouldn't be home, that she'd stood him up. He was afraid that she would be home, that he'd have to spend the evening six inches from ecstasy.

Music was coming up the stairs from the basement rec room. That meant that Gabby was home. He felt a wave of relief. The confrontation with ‘Caela had again been put off-for a few hours or a few days. Getting a beer from the refrigerator, he stopped at the top of the stairs and called down to her.

"Hi, Daddy, come on down," Gabby called gaily. "I didn't expect you home so soon.”

"Bad day at the practice tee." He felt desire stir in his guts like a hot worm at the sight of her. Her trim leotard fitted like a second skin. A few strands of her blonde hair had escaped her ponytail and hung loosely around her finely shaped face. Christ! Why couldn't he have had homely daughters?

"Want to see my new routine?" Gabby asked, apparently not noticing his growing erection.

"Gosh, Hon, I don't know," he said, holding his beer in front of his crotch.

"Come on. It'll only take a minute. It's really neat!”

“Well, okay, but just for a minute," he agreed reluctantly, trying not to study the gentle roundness of her breasts, the way the leotard cupped her pussy, the sleek line of her graceful legs. The scotch and beer boiling through his bloodstream did nothing to help.

"Sit over there," she directed, pointing to the old couch.

Meekly, he obeyed. He clutched the beer like a security blanket, and wondered why the palms of his hands itched. Hoping to hide his hard-on, he started to casually cross his legs. She shot a sharp glance at his tented pants, and he froze, leaving his legs the way they were.

She deliberately stuck her trim ass up when she bent over the record player to start the music again. Then she turned, and waited for the music to start.

When she began to dance, he wished he had never come down the stairs. Her slender, lithe body made his pulse pound, and his prick stiffen like a telephone pole. Sonovabitch! Didn't she realize how sexy she was? Her long, graceful fingers played over the hills of her breasts, up the insides of her thighs, drew his eyes to the soft mound of her pussy. Her hips rolled and twisted, invited penetration. She kicked high, and he thought he was going to melt into a puddle right there on the couch. The view he got of her crotch was incredible.

Jesus! The leotard had ridden up into her slit! When she turned her back, he could see that it had bunched in the crack of her ass so that half of both ass cheeks were exposed. Half of each: that made a whole cheek. He frowned at the feeble joke.

He tossed down the last of the beer, and crushed the can as she retreated across the room.

Suddenly, she turned. All the play was out of her moves now. He froze. He felt like a rabbit being hypnotized by a snake. Her bright blue eyes bored straight into his. She moved, slowly, toward him, placing one foot carefully in front of the other. He tried to move, but his muscles were useless jelly.

When she hooked a thumb into the scoop neck of her leotard, he prayed she wasn't going to do what he thought she was going to do.

She did it. She eased the leotard off her shoulder and slipped her arm out of the short sleeve. Her bare shoulder gleamed in the hard fluorescent light. The leotard hung on the gentle slope of her small, dainty breast.

"Guh-Gabby,” he choked.

Her lips pursed, silently shushed him. She took another careful step, and hooked her left thumb in the right shoulder of her single garment. Very carefully, she extracted that arm from the leotard. She never moved her eyes from his. He couldn't wrench his off hers no matter how he tried.

Another step, and she was easing the leotard down her body. More and more of her pale chest came into view. So gentle was the mounding of her breasts it was hard to tell where they began. One moment they were just bare skin, then there was softness and creaminess, then suddenly two rosy pink peaks appeared. His hands itched to touch them.

"Oh, my God," he groaned. He was a captive of his own mad lust. His cock ached and throbbed in his pants as sweat poured down from his arm pits and soaked his shirt. "No, Honey. No.”

"Shshshsh," she said softly. She eased the leotard lower and lower and lower on her trim torso. There was her navel, and the smooth expanse of her flat tummy. There were the grooves where her thighs joined her body.

A thin, pale muff sprang free as the scrap of nylon tumbled around her ankles. She stepped out of it. She was nude. She was beautiful. She was desirable. He wanted her so badly, his whole body hurt.

"Oh, Baby," he moaned as she stood in front of him.

"Stand up, Daddy," Gabby ordered softly.

Like a robot, he obeyed. She was so tiny, so dainty, like a china doll. She reminded him of something out of a painting. Her fingers were unbuttoning his shirt, stripping it off him, tickling through the wiry curls of his chest.

She flashed him a hot, eager grin as she fumbled with his belt. She didn't even look down as she loosened it, unfastened his trousers, and opened his fly.

Her tiny, smooth hands plunged into his underpants, and suddenly she had his cock in her warm grasp. She tipped it so the head peeped out of the waistband. Then, stooping gracefully, she eased his underpants down.

For a moment she was on her knees, helping him out of his pants. Then she stood and wrapped her arms around his neck. She slid his dick up her flat tummy and pressed her slender body against his. She hoisted herself with her hands behind his neck, and kissed him. His hands fumbled, then cupped her tight little tail, taking the weight off his neck.

Picking her up, he swung her into the air and laid her down on the sofa. For a moment, he stood over her, looking down at her alabaster-smooth body. He could see the slit of her cunt through the pale curls of her muff. She made no effort to conceal her sex from him, made no secret of the desire she felt for his rudely thrusting cock. With her arms spread, one knee raised and bent to show her pussy, she waited for him. Her chest rose and fell as her eyes burned into his. Her lips were moist and full. Suddenly, he wanted to plunge his aching phallus into her mouth.

He eased down beside her on the couch, leaned forward, and kissed her. One of his hands touched her breast as shyly as if he was still a virgin schoolboy. Her nipple was a hard little pebble against his palm as he cupped her boob. His whole hand could engulf her diminutive mound. It was warm and soft but also firm. Her tongue met his, dueling on an equal basis as he fondled her tit lovingly.

Her fingers curled around his dick and squeezed. He felt a burning drop emerge from the tip. He felt her deliberately smear the slick lubricant over his aching phallus. Her fingers skated over the slithery fluid. His balls were throbbing and felt as big as basketballs, they were so full of cum.

She fondled his prick with both hands, smeared her flesh with his liquid. When he broke the kiss, in a deliberately wanton and exquisitely graceful move, she lifted one smeared hand to her mouth, and, catlike, licked it clean.

"Oh, Baby," he groaned stupidly.

She took his hand, and, with her eyes locked on his, guided his big, crude, rough fingers to her delicate pussy. She pressed them against her softly furred, yielding mound, cupping them to the hollow between her thighs. Then one finger slipped into her slit. He felt slick, swampy folds engulf it. Without meaning to, he eased his finger deep into her soupy tunnel.

If there was a virgin membrane there, he couldn't detect it. His senses were whirling from the sight and the scent and the feel of her. He leaned forward, bowed his head. Immediately, she arched, presenting her breasts to him. His big mouth found one tiny tit, and he sucked on it. His teeth nicked her tender flesh and he heard her moan with pleasure. He eased his finger in and out of her cunny, and felt her hips begin to roll. She was smearing more and more of his lubricating flood over his prick. Every time she brushed the nerve trigger that lurked on the underside, a fresh, hot wave of liquid surged to the tip, and another stinging flood of cum entered the firing chamber in his gut. He was being glutted with semen because of her delicate stimulation.

He switched from one tit to the other. He bit, harder this time, and her moan was one of pure pleasure. He tugged up on her nipple, drew on her breast, stretched her flesh. Then he let it slip from his teeth as lust overwhelmed him.

Sliding over on top of her, he felt her spread her thighs in welcome. She guided his cock to her tiny slit, and then hugged him as the tip found her hot hole.

For a second he thought he was too big for her, that he would hurt her. Then she clutched his ass and pushed him into her. His lust overwhelmed his fears, and he thrust his prick into her in a single, strong, desperate shove.

"Oooohhh, Daddy," she moaned.

He braced himself up on his elbows, afraid he would crush her if he put his full weight on her. She weighed about ninety pounds, and he weighed a hundred-and-ninety. She wrapped her arms around his powerful body, and hugged him to her. His towering phallus glutted her slender pelvis; her legs twined behind his, locked with his, welded them together.

"Gabby, Baby," he moaned.

"Fuck me, Daddy, fuck me," she whispered. Instead of disgusting him, the words aroused him even further. He felt like his insides were being twisted into gory tatters.

He squirmed his cock in her. There really wasn't any other way to describe it. With her arms clamped around his chest, her legs twined tight around his, all he could move was his pelvis. As he squirmed his cock in her cunt, he felt his pubic arch grind against hers. His harsh pubic curls were like sandpaper between his flesh and hers.

Her trim hips began to swivel under him. As he slipped his dick in and out, she added a sideways motion. She wriggled her hard tits against his chest with the sinuosity of a snake.

Mike's thoughts faded into a thick fog of lust. The alcohol was burning out of his bloodstream. Everything hazed out except the girl under him, and even she was reduced to a purely sexual creature consisting of cunt and tits. He was oblivious of the fact that she was his daughter and only sixteen years old.

The semen in his belly was simmering, sizzling like hot grease. It kept getting hotter and hotter as his muscles drew tighter and tighter, cocking themselves for the final effort. It was like the arm of a medieval catapult being drawn back to the firing position. There was a sense of bottled power, of explosive forces straining to be released.

Everything in his groin seemed to be melting down to form the ammunition. His prick was dripping in her velvety glove. Each stroke made it burn hot as a steel ingot fresh into the mold. It was as if his body juices were being rendered from his flesh by the searing heat.

She was so tiny! So tiny, and so willing, and so skilled. Her dance-trained body moved in sinuous patterns he had never dreamed possible. She was whimpering very softly, like a tiny kitten. The little chirping noises could have been pain, but he was fairly sure they were pleasure.

The tempo of her chirps picked up, the volume increased, and he knew she was getting close to cumming. He held back his own through a desperate act of will. It was like holding down the safety valve on a steam boiler. The pressure needle shivered, climbed into the danger zone. The seams of his will power groaned under the strain.

"Ooooh, Daddy," Gabby wailed. Her body went rigid, her pelvis strained hard against his as she came.

The spasming of her cunt around his dork was the final straw. With an animal groan, he orgasmed. A searing stream of lava scorched the channel of his cock. His whole body knotted up as he poured his cum into her willing, sucking twat. He writhed against her pubis, mashed her berry clit to jam. His balls sucked up tight against the base of his cock, tried to climb inside him so they could stream down his channel and into her hot hole.

For an eternity, he kept twitching and twitching and twitching as the last dribbles of his jizm were squeezed out. He ended up in a cramped knot. He felt as if his groin had been part of a Boy Scout Merit Badge test in rope work. Then, with a sob, he sagged limply on top of his daughter. Tears stung his cheeks as realization of what he had just done ravaged him.

The cunt around his cock gave a few final spasms, then relaxed entirely. He felt his dead weight mashing her deep into the couch and started to roll off her. Her arms and legs tightened around him so he couldn't. His cock was shriveling slowly, stroking itself against her twat walls as it withered. His balls gave a twitch, his cock jerked, and a last tiny spurt of semen jetted into her rippled hole. Her cunt spasmed in response, giving his dork a warm squeeze.

"Oh, Daddy," Gabby sighed ecstatically.

"Oh, God, what have we done?" he asked miserably.

"I don't care, I don't care," she sighed, her breath hot against his chest.

"It's incest," he groaned, trying to forget that this was the second time he had violated one of his daughters.

"Whatever it was, it's wonderful," Gabby purred, her fingers playing over his back.

"It's wrong," he protested, making no move to extract his shriveled dick from her clasping hole.

"Who says?" Gabby asked in a contented tone.

Mike became aware of an urgent message from his bladder. "I need to go to the bathroom," he groaned, trying to escape.

"I want to watch," Gabby teased.

"Oh, come on, Honey," Mike protested.

"Okay, okay," she conceded, letting-go of him. He pulled out of her. His prick trailed a string of cum across one of her sleek thighs. He couldn't keep himself from gazing down at her as she lay there wantonly on the sofa with her legs spread. The insides of her thighs were pink from clutching him, and the flesh of her pussy was scarlet from the pounding it had taken.

He felt a wrenching twist of love and desire for her, His eyes stinging, he turned away from her and plodded across to the bathroom.

When he came out, Gabby went in. His mind numb, he slumped down on the sofa. He glanced up as she came out of the bathroom. His guts ached at the grace of her lithe, slender body, her unashamed nudity. She crossed to the record player.

This time the music was different: it had softness and melody rather than the primitive beat she had danced to before. Then she danced for him again, slowly and sensuously. She held him captive with her grace and beauty and love. She was nude, not naked, and it was right and fitting that he was feasting his eyes on every square millimeter of her sleek form.

She finished in a dancer's deep curtsey, almost a split-she bowed over her extended leg and spread her arms like the wings of a swan. When he found himself applauding like a fool, his individual hand claps sounding like clopping horses' hooves, he flushed with embarrassment.

Gabby flashed him a smile that was like a sunrise, and got to her feet. Extending her hands, she drew him to his feet. "Dance with me? Daddy," she said softly.

"Oh, no? I can't, really. I'm not much of a dancer," he stammered, trying to extract his big clumsy hands from her dainty little ones.

"It's easy. Come on.”

And with her holding his hands at arms' length, he found that it was easy. He lost his self-consciousness at being nude with her as he watched her feet, tried to match her moves.

In a few minutes she had him whirling around the room, and laughing with her. They spun and spun, and his regrets faded in the face of her exuberant joy at being alive and at being with him. Then they began to slow, and her eyes were on his. His eyes fogged with tears of love, and an aching need began to grow in his gut. They slowed, and she moved closer and closer to him, until she was pressing against him. His arms went around her as his cock began to throb and swell with need.

"Your sisters,” he groaned, trying frantically to find an escape hatch.

"Won't be home for hours," she whispered. She curled her fingers around the aching limb of his cock. She led him to the sofa and they sat down side by side.

Her little breasts were just begging for attention. His hand slowly covered one tender mound as she held his cock in her warm grasp. She was studying the purple tip of his dick as she milked it. He pressed her breast, felt the miraculous softness and warmth of her mound. The sight of his big hairy hand on the little hemisphere made his insides ache. He couldn't help staring at the fuzz of pale red hair between her thighs.

"It's so big," she sighed. "And so beautiful.”

Before he could stop her, she had bent over. He felt her lips touch the lip of of his pecker in a warm, moist kiss. Her tongue flicked out, touched his glans, sending a slashing whip of fire into his already simmering gut.

His hand, dislodged from her tit, slipped down to her lap. Her thighs parted, and his fingers nestled into her curly muff, brushing her soft pussy lips. His finger explored her steamy, hot grotto. The inner tissues were no longer slick with arousal, just humid and soft. He fingered the rippled folds.

She was mouthing the head of his cock lovingly. Her lips slid just over the tip as her tongue massaged it. He felt the sting of her teeth, then the soft, slow stroke of her lips, then the flick of her tongue at the very end. He felt something hot and stinging slither slowly up the channel of his phallus.

She knelt on the sofa, facing him, and spread her knees so he had easy access to her pussy. Her hand firm and steady on the shaft of his cock, her mouth bathed his glans. His finger found the rippled hole of her vagina, and eased into that clinging, warm, slippery tunnel.

She breathed on his cock, and his balls knotted with pleasure. Blood was pounding in his gut as he curled an arm over her smooth back and slowly wiggled his finger up into her cunt. She was so little and tight he couldn't understand how his cock had fit. That memory triggered another warm wave of juice from his dick. She drank it down eagerly.

She was getting wetter and more slippery by the minute. He dragged a wave of goo up her slit, smeared it over the nubbin of her clit. He felt her shudder when he touched her nerve knot. Carefully keeping it wet and slick with her seepings, he began teasing her delicate organ.

Her mouth took more of his cock. Her lips closed a third of the way down his mammoth shaft, then swept up toward the tip. Her fingers slid under his nuts, tenderly cupping his sperm glands. She held his balls reverently, warmed them with her palm and fingers. A fresh, stinging flow of sperm began to pool in his swollen, eager prostate.

When she pulled her mouth away from his dork, he knew what she wanted, and pulled his hand out of her cunt. She swung astride him as lie slouched back on the couch. She linked her hands behind his neck as he reached down and tipped his dick up into her snatch. He felt her pubic hair scratch his cockhead as she shifted her hips. Then his knob was nuzzling into her warm, wet folds. He looked down and sucked in a sharp breath at the sight of his huge, rude tower in her tender crotch.

She eased herself down on his pecker in a series of slow jerks. A fraction of an inch at a time, he saw his dong vanish into his daughter's twat. Her tummy tightened as she absorbed his shaft.

He reached up between her arms and teased her tits. She had such delicate little nubbins, and they were such a beautiful shade of pink. They stood up eagerly as he fingered them, pinched them, toyed with them. Her jaw muscles jumped as he flicked the berrybuds with his fingernails.

She settled into his lap, and it felt like the full length of his cock was wrapped in a steaming soft towel. "Like it?" she asked cheerily, twitching her ponytail.

"Love it,” he grunted. "Sweet heavens but you are a joy.”

She smiled a smile that was far beyond her years.

"You weren't a virgin," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Does it matter?” she asked softly.

"I'm not sure. I used to think it did. But then, I didn't think I'd ever commit incest, either.”

She eased up and down on his dork, brought full rigidity back to his tool, "It's love and joy and life,” she said.

"It's lust and sex and procreation," he responded.

"Can't get pregnant," she answered. "I'm on the pill. So's Micaela. But I think she's still a virgin.”

Mike tried not to let his face betray him. "And Patty?" he asked evenly.

"She's got a reputation as a cock-tease," Gabby said easily. "But she's just a little squirt, so far. You're gonna have to do something about her, though. She can be a real brat. She sheeted my bed the other day.”

Mike snorted and his cock jumped in her hot hole. “I’ll talk to her about it," he assured her.

"The only thing that's going to make an impression on her is a hairbrush," Gabby grunted, and swiveled her hips in a small circle. His cock stirred in her guts. "Let's not talk about her. You're going all soft,”

"Sorry," he apologized.

"No sweat." She lifted and dropped, and the stroking brought a fresh surge of blood to his tool, made it swell and stiffen.

"You're incredible," he mused.

"I inherited it from you and Mummy," she answered.

Mike didn't answer. His feelings about his late wife were a bit mixed.

"I'm thirsty," Gabby announced. "Want to share a beer?”

"You're a little young," he argued.

“I’m a little young for this, too," she pointed out, moving up and down on his cock.

"You want to-uh-separate?”

"Carry me," she ordered. "Just stand up, and I'll hang onto you like a monkey on a tree.”

"We're crazy," Mike sighed. He heaved himself to his feet as Gabby wrapped her arms around his waist. His cock stayed in her cunt.

"Ninety-eight pounds," Gabby informed him, guessing what he was thinking.

"Featherweight," he grunted, staggering up the stairs. In the kitchen, he got out a beer and held it while she popped the top. Then he moved over to the table and set her butt on the edge. The bubbles of alcohol sizzled down to his belly. His phallus swelled in her hot, wet grasp.

She felt it, and her eyes gleamed as she finished the beer. A flip of her hand and the dead soldier clattered into the garbage can. Letting go of his neck, she slowly eased herself down on her back on the kitchen table. She lay with her arms spread as if she was being crucified.

"Fuck me, Daddy," she whispered. The blood roared in his ears. "Oh, God, Daddy, Fuck me blind!”

With a groan, Mike leaned over her and began sliding his aching cock in and out of her hole. His hands braced on the table on either side of her, he fucked his cock in and out of her. He watched lust ravage her delicate features. Her sweat-stringy ponytail coiled serpent like across the table as her head rolled from side to side.

As the noon sun flooded into the kitchen, he screwed his daughter on the breakfast table. The sight of his mammoth cock sliding in and out of her velvet cunt made his balls steam. He watched his groin batter her tender crotch, pound and pulp her delicate flesh.

In a few moments the pool of semen in his belly was beyond restraint. He saw a pink flush start up from her twat, saw her arch with pleasure, and turned his own flood loose. His cock jumped and heaved in her as wad after thick, hot wad of semen spouted into her spasming depths.

He thought he was finished coming, until she reached down and wedged her fingers in between her body and his. The touch of her hands on his testicles triggered a fresh searing burst from them. She fiddled with his balls delicately, and his cock twisted itself like a towel being wrung out, milked the last dribbles of pleasure from itself.