My Daughter Makes Plans
Chapter 1: Friday

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, Incest, Father, Daughter, Pregnancy,

Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1: Friday - My daughter, Lindy, was only ten when her mother and I divorced. I hadn't known what she had in mind in the years since, but when she was fourteen she made her desire to have my baby very clear. Of course, she was too young, and I had to find a way of turning her away from her plan. Trouble was, she had grown into a very beautiful and attractive teen, and it was difficult to ignore the fact. Besides, there was nothing I wanted more than to father a child on her, despite knowing I shouldn't.

It was my weekend to have our daughter, Lindy. My wife, Louise, and I had been divorced for six years, but it had been fairly amicable – as much as divorces can be. She’d met another man eventually, and they’d married, but I still got to see my daughter every other weekend. Lindy was 16 and we’d been fucking for two years now.

I blame school sex education, personally. It seems to go so far – describing as best you can in words and still photographs the mechanics of sex, and attempting to cover the emotional side of it, but always in cold, clinical language that is ‘politically correct’. Love isn’t about political correctness. People accept that men and women are equal in life, except for the one design feature that sets them apart: women are meant to have babies, and men have the means of keeping them pregnant. So at the moment a man fucks a baby into a woman’s womb, their stone-age brains are leading them to act out the primeval mating ritual – which doesn’t give a damn about political correctness. He dominates, she submits.

In the modern world, after the mating, she generally dominates – in the Western world at least. And a good thing, too. Women’s more intricately-wired brains enable them to be good at so many diverse things we’re foolish if we let them go to waste. Of course, men are better at being able to focus on one thing and do it well, so that attribute has to be utilised, too.

To get back to Lindy, two years ago, during one of her weekends with me, I’d nodded off in front of the television on the Friday evening to find her kneeling on the floor beside me. She had opened the flies of my shorts (it had been a hot day) so she could see my cock, and was experimenting with the feel of it. It began to fill with blood and her eyes widened as the short, wrinkly thing she’d been feeling suddenly became a long, smooth shaft, the little eye at the end staring directly at her.

She glanced at my face, to find I was watching her, and with a yelp of surprise, she backed away, getting to her feet.

“Sorry, Daddy,” she said, “I just wanted to see a real penis.”

I shrugged. “It’s not a problem, Lindy. Go ahead, have a good look. Anything else you want to see?”

“You don’t mind?” she checked, glancing down at my slowly deflating tool.

“Not if you don’t,” I replied, “but you can’t tell other people – including, especially, your mother – or I could go to jail.”

“I promise, Daddy,” she said, returning to the side of the bed.

As soon as she touched my cock, it stiffened again. It had been years since I’d last had anyone handle my genitals – although, of course, I checked they were in working order two or three times a week – so it was not surprising that a little precum oozed out of the tip. Lindy was, even at fourteen, a well-developed girl. On this evening, she was wearing a short cotton sundress in yellow, and was barefoot. She had a beautiful, symmetrical face, with lips that were made to be kissed. So, leaving aside our close relationship, her looks alone were quite enough to hold an old man’s interest.

“What do I do now?” she asked, one hand round my cock shaft.

“Doing is more than just looking, you know,” I said. “If you want to do more than just look, you could try sliding your hand up and down the shaft. Wait a minute, I have something that might help.” I opened the drawer in my bedside cabinet and found a tube of KY. “Here, squeeze a little of this into your hand. It’s very slippery.”

If I’m being truthful, somewhere in my head, a part of my deeply-hidden psyche was expressing the hope that if Lindy did a good job, she might give me a bonus orgasm – one I had not planned to have – so I was not minded to stop her exploration.

But after two of three strokes, Lindy let go. My cock waved in the air, forlornly. She turned to look at me.

“So if I did this enough, would you cum?” she asked.

“Yes,” I gasped.

She nodded thoughtfully. “And this is supposed to fit in my, umm, vagina?” She waved her fingers in the general direction of ‘down there’.

“Well, not this one,” I said, “I expect you’ll find a boy closer to your own age to have your first time with. You are certainly not supposed to have sex with your father.”

“Why not? I mean, they told us that at school, but they didn’t seem clear on why.”

I gave her a potted explanation about genetics, chromosomes and mutations.

“The thing about having two unrelated people making a baby is that it eliminates one possible cause of mutations. Normally, a girl child will inherit an X chromosome from both her father and her mother. If one of them is faulty – say the mother’s has the faulty gene which causes haemophilia – a girl child can use the other X chromosome and not be affected by the fault. Boys, on the other hand, inherit an X chromosome only from their mother, so if the haemophilia fault is present, he has no back-up and will develop the condition.

“If the male and female are closely related, brother, sister, father, mother, uncle, aunt, the chances of a defective gene being passed on to a child are greater. For instance, you are half me, and half your mother. If you and I made a baby, you would pass on 24 chromosomes, 12 of which were from me, and I would pass on 24 chromosomes, so our child would have 36 chromosomes that came from me, and only 12 from you. If I have a defective gene, then there’s a much bigger chance of its being passed on than if I was the traditional pimply youth, fertilising you in the back of his father’s car.”

“Ugh! That sounds so sordid,” Lindy said. She thought for a few seconds. “but if you had no defective genes, a baby we made wouldn’t have a problem?”

“Apart from a strong chance it’d grow up too look like me!”

She laughed. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

“The baby might.”

While she chuckled, she looked thoughtful and took my cock in her hand again.

“They said at school that we should only have sex with people we love, and who love us.”

I nodded. “I think that’s good advice.”

“So sex with the pimply youth in the back of his father’s car is not what you’d consider ideal?” she probed.

“That’s correct – unless you loved each other enough to have his baby. But there’s another constraint on getting pregnant – apart from your being underage.”


“Babies deserve to be born into stable households, where proper provision has been made to care for them. At your age, you don’t have that. I know I don’t have much say in the matter, but I think you should fall in love, marry and then have children, in that order. I know it’s a bit old-fashioned these days, but it’s a system which has worked for hundreds of years.”

She pouted. “So you don’t think we should have a baby?”

My cock twitched in her hand. I know she felt it, because she glanced down.

“He does, obviously,” she said.

I had one of those ‘road to Damascus’ moments of epiphany. My home was a stable environment, and looking after a baby would be no problem while Lindy was at school and, later, at work. There would be a slightly increased risk of a genetic mutation creeping in, but neither Lindy and I were aware of any such defects in our genetic makeup.

“I suppose he would,” I said slowly. My cock pulsed again in confirmation, and suddenly, cum shot out of the tip and plastered her sundress. Further spurts followed, and we both stared at my prick while it drained my balls.

I’d had no warning: it happened so quickly – my balls tightening, my prick spurting – that I was glad I wasn’t actually fucking Lindy at the time – there’d have been no time to pull out. I’d noticed this happen before once or twice, but normally, it was not something I worried about – just meant my hand got sticky instead of catching it all in a tissue.

“But seriously, Lindy,” I continued, when I’d caught my breath, “you shouldn’t be wanting my baby.”

She looked at me askance.

“You said babies should be born into stable households, between parents who love each other and the child.”


She looked at me, leaving me to work out the corollary – that we love each other, and there’s no likelihood of yet another break-up of the household. After all, the first eleven years of my marriage to Louise had been stable. Don’t ask me what happened after that, because I was never quite sure.

“So what do you propose?” I asked.

For a fourteen-year-old, she had great self-confidence and seemed to know exactly what she wanted.

“I want to be your wife, in every way possible,” she said. “Allowing for the fact that I still have to go to school and we can’t actually marry. So you’d have to keep us – you, me and the babies.”

I work from the office in our house, so I’m always around. Then her words penetrated.


“You don’t think we’d be stopping at one, do you?”

My cock started inflating again. She watched it. “Obviously not,” she added.

“What do you think your mother would make of that?”

She tilted her head in enquiry. “Did you know she’s pregnant? She and Ralph are having a baby in the new year.”

I shook my head. “She didn’t say anything to me about it,” I said.

“Well, she is. They are.”

I wasn’t sure this news delighted me. It was evidence of a final split between Louise and me. Obviously, I knew she was Ralph’s woman, but I saw her as being the woman who had borne me a child, alone out of all the other women in the world. Lindy was her gift to me, and now she was bestowing that same favour on another man.

“Oh,” I said, and I must have sounded dejected, because Lindy put her arms round me and climbed onto my lap. A moment later, her hand found my cock again. She soon had it upright, stiff and throbbing, and I feared another accident, so I took her hand away.

“It’s not very comfortable this way,” I said.

“Okay. Can we go to bed, then?”

“Lindy, it would be dangerous, darling. I know you are curious and all that, but you’re playing with grown-up stuff, and if we went to bed together, things would happen that might have a serious and permanent effect on our lives.”

“But Daddy, I want to know. Pleeease! Show me.”

She kissed me, taking advantage of my position under her on the settee, and ground her pubic mound against my cock. Sometime around then, I stopped using my brain, and let her lead me up to my bedroom.

Lindy threw my duvet onto the floor and pushed me down onto my back. She slid a leg across me, working herself on top of me, until my cock was trapped between our bellies. She hunched, rubbing it with her pudendum, until I was rock-hard. I couldn’t help that: it was the natural consequence of having one’s cock played with by a beautiful young woman.

She sat up astride me, and whipped off her sundress, revealing that she was not wearing a stitch of clothing beneath it. She leaned forwards until she could kiss me. Her kiss was child-like, with closed lips. Without thinking, I slipped the tip of my tongue along her lips and they opened reflexively. She got the hang of tongue-kisses with considerable alacrity, and began wriggling with pleasure on top of me while she built up her expertise.

I found her nipples, which had stiffened up like pencil-rubbers, and played with them, rolling and flicking them, while her mound bumped against me and mashed my cock. She began humping again, this time she learned to slide her pussy lips backwards and forwards along my shaft, a delight for both of us.

It was almost inevitable that she’d slide a bit too far, allowing the head of my cock to spring up and notch itself in her opening. She began to slide back before she realised, but stopped when she felt my cock head begin to enter her.

She drew her head back so she could look into my eyes. Hers grew rounder.

“Daddy, your penis is in my vagina.”

“You don’t say,” I remarked somewhat sarcastically, “and if you don’t let it out, there’s going to be an accident and it will go off again, only inside you this time, and you could get pregnant.”

“Could I? Wow!” She sounded altogether too enthusiastic.

“Well, maybe not while your hymen is intact,” I said.

“You’d better break it, then,” she said.

“I’d probably better not. I probably should get my cock out of your pussy if you’re not going to,” I said, feeling my balls beginning to tighten with the growing urge to pump her full of my spooge.

“Is that what they’re called? We only learned the proper names at school, but I like cock and pussy. Cock in pussy, I like.”

“Lindy!” I warned, trying to move away, but she wouldn’t let me. She simply sat up, raised her butt so my cock was nearly vertical, grabbed it to hold it steady, the tip still lodged in her, and let herself sink down on it.

I felt the thin membrane of her virginity stretch and give way. She gave a little whimper of pain, then sat down hard. This young woman wanted to fuck and be fucked, there was no doubt. I’d barely touched bottom with my prick when her vaginal muscles began chewing on it and in a matter of seconds, she drew out my cream.

My cock blasted her little pussy with my potent semen, chock-full of my baby-makers, while Lindy writhed on top of me, making screwing motions with her hips and hunching every time my balls belched another spoonful of my cum up her channel.

“Umm-mm-mmm-mm-mmm...” she hummed while getting her pussy stuffed with sperm for the first time. Some of the time she had her eyes closed, at others she looked into mine, her face pink with exertion, her expression one of delight. Cum squirted out of her pussy around my cock as it moved, with every twitch of her hips. She leaned down and kissed me again, as our movements slowed down, and we came to rest with my cock still bottomed-out in her soaking little baby-tube, keeping most of my sperm right where it would do most damage. I knew this, but didn’t care right at that moment.

“Daddy! That was fabulous,” she said, breathlessly, “can you do it again?”

“I need time to recover, sweetheart. That was the best fuck I’ve had since your mother and I were married, and I’m not a young man. I’ve cum twice inside an hour, and that’s amazing for me.”

My cock had started to shrink, and when she wriggled, it slipped out of her, followed by a quantity of our mixed juices.

“Oh, god, I’m messing up the bed!” she exclaimed.

“No matter,” I replied, “mankind invented washing machines for just such moments. Help me strip the bed before it soaks through to the mattress.”

Lindy got off me and we yanked out the bed sheet we’d been laying on, with its tell-tale damp patch, slightly tinged with blood. We took it downstairs and put it in the machine, got a fresh sheet out of the airing cupboard and fitted it, then both of us got into my bed, pulled the duvet over us, and went to sleep in each other’s arms.

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Story tagged with:
Ma/ft / Consensual / Heterosexual / Fiction / Incest / Father / Daughter / Pregnancy /