Lucky Fall

by JayBee

Copyright© 2003 by JayBee

Incest Sex Story: What's lucky about falling down the stairs? Everything else...

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Incest   Father   Daughter   Pregnancy   .

Author's Note : Thanks to all those who've poured in their comments, compliments (a lot of that!) and criticisms (thankfully, only a handful of that! Mostly out of goodwill, I suppose.) for all my stories, making me want to write again, making me want to be better... I know I am becoming more and more infrequent with my contributions, but it's unavoidable. I have written more stories than I've ever planned to, submitting them to only three of the best sites on the 'Net, each a leader in its own right. My thanks to Storiesonline.Net, the fans of the site, MY fans - I was quite surprised to learn of their existence!... Perhaps with more, JayBee.
PS And keep writing in...

"Hi Daddy!" chirped my eighteen-year old daughter as she came into the house. I had my back to her as I was busy preparing something for her to munch on, and she hugged me from behind. Her soft breasts pressed against my back, giving me a familiar sense of heat at the touch, but it was something I had learned to live with. Her hands snaked over my chest and brushed my lips.

"Hi sweetie-pie!" I replied, kissing her fingertips. Stephanie giggled. It was a lovely sound, ringing clearly in my ears.

"Hmmm! Smells nice... whatcha cooking?"

"Nothing special," I replied, "And what smell?" I never knew dough had a smell.

"I'm talking about you, silly," my daughter replied, giving me a playful jab as she moved a step backward. "Nice cologne. Very sexy."

"Thank you." It was not the first time she had commented that something was 'sexy' about me, and I have to admit that it was extremely gratifying to hear it from her lips. I mean, it's not everyday that I get complimented by a girl who is nothing if not a knockout. I turned around.

Stephanie leaned over and kissed the tip of my nose. It was a tradition that we had started back in her first grade, and it was something she hadn't yet gotten over. We were pretty expressive around the house, and although it did sometimes make me uncomfortable not to reveal how intensely I felt attracted towards my own daughter, I was careful not to let it on.

At just a couple of inches shorter than I, Stephanie had no problem in reaching my height. She was the only red-head on the block, with brown eyes and dark eyebrows. It seemed to give her a fiery touch, sensuousness into her friends-with-everybody approach. Her breasts - as a father, perhaps these should be beyond my scrutiny, but I have to admit that they were increasingly becoming more and more prominent to my eyes - were firm and high, at least a size bigger than her mother's.

Absently, my eyes swept over her body. The cheerleader's dress she had on revealed a lot of leg, lots more than I would have thought proper had I not been so interested in the view of the tanned flesh. They appeared sculpted, sinew and softness combined to make one deadly combination.

"Earth to Daddy! Earth to Daddy! Come in..." Her voice broke into my reverie.

"Oops!" I replied, embarrassed to have been caught ogling her. "Sorry, hun. How was practice today?"

She grinned at me. "Not bad. Not bad at all. All those boys were staring at me most of the time though, you know, just like you were, half a second ago."

I shook my head ruefully. "You really can't blame them. With legs like those, who needs - " I suddenly shut up, realizing that I had about to say too much.

Steph, on the other hand, wouldn't let go. She knew it was a compliment, and typical of girls, damned if she was going to let me off without hearing what it was. "Who needs... what?" She squeezed my palm gently. Her touch was soft. "Come on, Daddy, tell me. If you've got my legs, who needs what?" She puckered her lips, "Puh-leese!"

I had been about to say strangling-cord or something to that effect when the correct words came to me. "Anything else," I replied, "I mean, with those legs, who needs anything else?"

"Thanks," she said, giving me a peck on the cheek, "I think."

We have never been too modest inside the house - not that we were nudists, which would be an extreme - and walking around in my underwear was usually the way my bra-and-panties-clad daughter discovered me in the mornings. If my wife were also there, she would start off the day in just her panties. Thankfully, we don't have a son - the poor guy would have had more than enough trouble explaining his hardons over his mother's state of undress.

With such a liberal background, therefore, I was not very surprised when Steph whisked the top of her uniform over her head. It was the first Friday of her vacation, and the practice was the only thing on her calendar for the next two months, she told me, other than eat, sleep and beach.

"I'll be doing the laundry soon," I informed her, "So as soon as you take everything off, give me a call. I'll pick up your hamper." I was surprised to see that she hadn't worn a bra underneath her top - instead, she had put on a bikini top that was little more than two triangles held together by translucent strings. It even left a little of the undersides of her breasts exposed.

Stephanie slung the top over her shoulder. "I'll go one better," she said, "I'll strip in the basement, dump everything into the machine, then dash upstairs. We've got towels down there, right?" She was obviously referring to the cache of fresh towels that we stored in the basement.

"I guess," I replied, not just a little mesmerized by the way her cups strained the blue bikini top. "Look-see. I already emptied your hamper earlier today."

"Okay." I watched her walk down the hallway and turn into the staircase that led down to the basement. The thin string of the top was invisible against her back, and I groaned inwardly. From where I stood, she looked as if she were baring her tits. Ah, how I wished it were so!

Presently, within a minute, she called out to me. "We haven't got any soap."

"Sure we do, hun," I replied. "I'll be down in a sec."

"NO!" she shouted back. "I mean, I don't have a stitch of clothing on. And this darn towel is a little too short... I'm gonna dash upstairs, Daddy! Close your eyes, and don't peek!"

"Okay, Steph." In spite of all the openness, I had never seen my daughter naked. Not even a single tit. Sure I had seen her in bikinis, but a glimpse of her nudity was something that was still eluding my lifetime achievements. "I have my eyes closed," I lied. My eyes were locked on the basement door.

I heard her rush up the stairs, then stop. She peeked around the doorway, grinning as she saw me looking. "No peeking," she said, mock-sternly. "I'll tell Mom if you do!"

Because I knew she wouldn't, I decided to call her bluff. "Oh, really?"

The standoff lasted just a couple of seconds. Throwing caution to the winds, my daughter ran into the hallway and up the stairs, vanishing into her room and slamming the door behind her. She was fast, but she hadn't been fast enough - I had seen enough.

I had seen her breasts!

The towel - if it could be called that - was a strip of cloth that was wrapped around her waist. It was too little to cover her chest, and I had seen her mounds bouncing with each step. She had been too far away to see anything else, but I knew a winner when I saw it. And her tits could definitely put every other counterpart, including those of my wife, into shame.

I was still thinking of my daughter's boobs when I started towards the basement.

I was still thinking of my daughter's boobs when I missed a step and tumbled the last few steps and crashed into the hard floor.

And I was still thinking of my daughter's boobs when reflexes took over and I gave a bloody scream of pain...

Apparently, it was loud enough for Steph to have heard it all the way upstairs. Even as she bounded down the stairs, she started calling out my name.

"In here," I answered, "In the frigging basement." I had to clench my teeth to keep from screaming again. My right hand was underneath me, somewhat twisted out of shape, but my leg had really borne the brunt of the fall. The ankle was at a right angle with my leg, and I feared it would be more than a simple fracture.

"Oh God!" exclaimed my daughter when she saw me. I was still staring at the ceiling at that time, and it was only when she touched me that I turned to look at her. The dirty lecher that I was, the first thing I noticed was the way her wet breasts clung to the semi-transparent t-shirt that she had thrown on. It was quite evident that she was naked under the top - I could see the dark spots of her nipples.

Steph removed my hand very gently. It was already swollen at the joint, and as purple as I had ever seen something of the same color. "Does it hurt?" she asked, concerned.

For a second, I felt guilty. Here I was, hurt, and I was totally concerned with my own daughter's anatomy, while she was more worried about my well-being. "Only when I laugh," I cliched weakly.

She smiled back. "So don't laugh."

As I stood up, I couldn't help but notice that all she had on was the wet t-shirt. Fortunately, for I have always believed in the silver lining of the darkest clouds, the injuries were totally on my right side. With a great deal of effort, Steph managed to get me into a limping position. She had her hands quite firmly on my waist, slowly but surely supporting me back step by painful step.

On retrospect, I remember being slightly disappointed that she was wearing panties. It wasn't much, but it wasn't the same as watching her naked ass either.

We walked into the living room just as my wife rang the doorbell. She was back for the weekend - stationed at the FBI office at Atlanta didn't leave her enough time to commute to office everyday. She was always home for the weekends, though, and that was when we made up for the lost time. I was sure our sexual indulgence during those times was not lost on the very impressionable young woman we were raising.

Three weeks, said the doctor. "That's how long it will take for you to even be allowed to move your hands."

"Three weeks?" The painkillers had rendered my hand and foot numb while they were being bandaged, and it wasn't exactly a feeling I wanted to have for five more weeks.

"You are lucky," the physician pointed out. "A little this way or that, and we would have had a compound fracture. As it is, you have been extremely lucky, I should say. A sprain, no matter how severe, is always better than any fracture."

He glanced at my attractive spouse. "Besides, I don't think you should complain about having her to wait on you for three whole weeks. Just think of all the perks, Harry." I conceded that point. Perhaps, I hoped, Jamie would stay at home for at least a month. Now that would offset whatever pain I had to endure...

Later that night, as I prepared myself for a very careful sleep - I daren't risk rolling onto my inflamed limbs - Jamie excused herself and asked Stephanie to follow her. Probably thinking that I was still asleep, my wife didn't bother to lower her voice. I could hear every word of what she was saying.

"Steph, honey, I need to ask you a favor."

"Shoot, Mom."

"Actually, I've got this, um, program, training and stuff, next week. In fact, I was supposed to report at New England on Sunday, and I don't think I will be able to cancel it. It's my one chance to get into field duty... what I want to ask is, could you take care of your father? Just for a month or so..."

"Sure thing, Mom, but I don't think Dad would appreciate your going back so soon..."

"Harry wouldn't like it, I know, but I am sure he would understand it. He's always been there for me, and I know if I ask him straight, he'll probably tell me to go. But I feel guilty leaving him like this -"

"That's alright, Mom. After all, you are leaving him in good hands, you know."

"That's the only thing I am sure of right now. And hun, sorry if this cuts in on your vacation plans -"

"The only vacation plan I had involved only three things, Mom, and that's sunbathing, eating and sleeping. I'll see if I can sneak this into my appointment book, okay?" From her sound, I guessed Stephanie was smiling.

"Thanks, kiddo. I owe you one."

"Don't worry, I'll take you up on that sometime."

"Now that's something that scares me." Mother and daughter laughed. It was so sweet to hear their combination. I realized how much they meant to me, individually and together, and for a second, actually felt jealous. I don't know what it was that I felt jealous about, but I did feel left out.

"There's another thing you have to consider, Steph," my wife added. "Your father's going to need all the help he gets. He can't put any wait on his right leg, and he can't support himself on his right side; you'll have to substitute for that. And he has this rather irritating habit of wanting to pee in the middle of the night... AND, at least for three or four weeks, you might have to dress him, undress him... I hope you get my point."

Stephanie was silent for a moment. I didn't know what to hope for - that she would say no and spare me the embarrassment, or, if she said yes, that we would be more physically intimate in the days to come. I was glad the decision was Stephanie's, and not mine, to make.

"Okay," she said at length. "I'll do it. But you owe me big time, Mom. Remember that!"

"After I come back," Jamie promised our daughter, "I'll get you whatever you want!"

"I heard that," I said loudly, deciding that it was time I stepped into the dialogue, "What about me?"

"You were supposed to be sleeping," Jamie chided as she and our daughter walked back into the room.

"So sue me," I countered.

"I've got a better idea," my wife replied, licking her lips seductively. "But it'll have to wait until I come back."

"When are you leaving?"

She cast me an apologetic look. "Tomorrow, if it's okay with you. I hope you understand, Harry, it's my first and quite possibly, it's my only chance to be an active agent. It's something I've worked for..."

I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Like you said, I don't like it that you have to leave so soon, but hey, I want to see you get your due. Go for it, girl, and when you come back, we can celebrate."

"Thanks a bunch, Harry, dearest," my wife cooed, a big smile now on her face. She moved closer and kissed me on my lips, gently, parting and inserting her tongue into my mouth. We French-kissed for a minute before our daughter interrupted us. "Cut it out, you two! I don't want to be able to tell my friends that I saw my Mom getting boned by Dad."

"Yeah," my wife agreed, pulling away with an embarrassed grin at Stephanie's sarcasm. "I can do without the competition, thank you."

I glanced at the clock - it read ten to ten. Stephanie followed my gaze and pointed out the obvious. "Time to sleep."

She turned to Jamie. "Mom, since I've got to sleep in here from tomorrow onwards, why don't I sleep here tonight? Sort of like a trial run. If Dad gets any funny feeling, I need to know what to expect."

My wife giggled. "The only funny feeling your father gets is between his legs... Okay, if you want to. You can sleep with Daddy tonight. I'll take the couch."

"You can have my room," Steph offered, already sliding in between the sheets on her mother's side of the bed.

"Gee, thanks honey, didn't know you had such a big heart," my wife kidded. "But aren't you gonna take off your clothes?"

The question was asked so matter-of-factly that both Stephanie and I knew immediately that my wife had been quite sincere. She herself was unbuttoning her blouse, and took it off. Next to go was her knee-length skirt. Her bra completed the pile on the floor.

Stephanie crawled out of bed. Being her mother's daughter, she had never been one to back off from anything. Wordlessly, she unhooked her shorts and they fell at her feet. Her turtleneck was off the next instant, and I had a glimpse of her flat tummy when the t-shirt she had on underneath - the one that had been wet earlier in the evening - slid up a little. Steph then pecked her mother goodnight, walked over to me, lightly kissed me on my lips, smiled her 'goodnight' and scooted back between the sheets.

"That's it?" my wife asked as she walked out of the door, not expecting an answer.

In a voice low enough for me alone to hear, I heard my daughter say, "For now." And then I drifted asleep.

By the time I awoke the next day, the sun was already more than a little way up in the sky. Jamie had finished packing her suitcases and was just about to wake me up when I opened my eyes. "Hi sweetie," she greeted me warmly. "You almost missed morning."

"Must be the pills," I said as I tried sitting straight. It was, as I discovered, a pretty difficult task, especially when you have just one hand to work with. My wife helped me sit upright. "I still feel a little woozy."

"It'll take a couple of days to wear off," my wife explained, sitting beside me. Her hands absently rubbed my thigh as she kissed me, her tongue gently finding its way into my mouth. I responded as best as I could, given that I had just one hand that I could use. Besides, neither of us wanted to hurt my right arm anymore and have it in a cast for a few weeks more. I could taste her lipstick on my lips when we pulled apart.

"Harry... if you want me to stay... all you have to do is ask."

With my left hand, I patted her cheek. "I know you will, so I won't ask you to. You deserve this chance, honey, and I don't want to stand in your way. And, before you have to explain, no, I don't think I am competing with your job. So go ahead, Jamie darling, and kick some ass."

"Thanks," my wife's voice shook a little, "I love you. You know that, right?"

I grinned at her, and gave her breast a little squeeze. "No, I didn't. You do?"

As my wife took a playful swipe at me, our daughter came into the room. She smiled at me and kissed me on my forehead. Once again, as I looked at her, lewd thoughts were starting to come back. Her halter top was a little lower than usual, showing off the top of her creamy breasts, and that it was a thin material was evidenced by the fact that her nipples could poke a little outwards. Her tight shorts emphasized her lithe legs and well-formed thighs. Her hair, unbraided, fell about her bare shoulders in wavy forms, looking soft and downy.

"Mom, your cab's here."

I suppressed an urge to say "Damn, do you have to leave so soon?" Instead, forcing myself to remain smiling, I shook my wife's hand. "All the best, Jamie. You don't need it, so convey that to the losers, okay? Just don't embarrass them too much."

"Okay, if you don't want me to," my wife quipped, "But there are some guys there I want to teach a lesson or two. A couple of jerks from my office - they don't think a woman can be good enough. MCP's!" She gave me a hug, then turned to embrace Steph too. "Take good care, you two. Especially you, Harry! And try not to ruin Steph's image about you, alright?"

"I'll try," I joked back.

I heard the cab drive away with a sense of dejection. I didn't want to dwell on it, though, for disappointments like these were often the springboard for rocky times in a relationship. Stephanie busied herself with the household chores, leaving me to my own thoughts, and I reminded myself that she had indeed asked me whether she could go.

Lunch was a quiet affair of potatoes and steak. Stephanie is a great cook, better than her mother and I put together, and the food was so tasty there were no leftovers for the night. I washed my mouth in the bed itself - Steph brought some hot water and a sponge towel, and fussed over me like I was a little kid.

Stephanie came back after dumping the plates into the dishwasher to find me struggling with the pillow behind me. "What are you doing?"

"Setting it up," I replied, surprised by how matronly she sounded. Her attire was still the same as it had been in the morning - or was it that the halter was just a little lower on her bosom now, showing more of her skin? My eyes were drawn to the generous amount of cleavage displayed, only to be averted because I feared I would get caught. "I can't get it properly behind me."

"Here," she said, moving closer, "Let me help."

I turned to look back at her at the very same moment that she bent forward in front of me. Before she could stop herself, her chest collided with my face! My nose went right into the valley between her slopes and her inertial push forward sandwiched my face between the top of her breasts and the headboard of the bed. My cock sprang to life as I inhaled her perfume-like feminine scent, a little of sweat also part of the mixture.

But instead of jumping away, as would have been normal, my daughter reached behind me and adjusted the pillow. Her actions were causing her chest to rub against my face, and I could feel the warm skin press against my cheeks. If I was getting suffocated, I didn't know - the only thing that I could think was how soft and smooth her skin felt.

It was a good thing that my daughter moved away when she did... a few more seconds, and I would have started licking her tits. Looking back, I would call this a defining moment of our turning relationship, the point when I really started to feel the heat of lust. I was actually disappointed when her breasts were no longer in contact with my face.

"Whoa!" I couldn't help but say when I was able to breathe again. "What hit me?"

Stephanie grinned at me. "Very funny, Daddy. You just can't help an old man nowadays without being drooled over."

"I am not old," I retorted lightly, "Besides, what's a man supposed to do when you bury his face in your - chest?"

My daughter giggled as she hooked her thumbs under the top of her halter and pulled upwards to a more conservative appearance. "There... you happy now?"

"Not quite," I replied, feeling cheeky. "I think I preferred the earlier view."

"Of course you would. What do you want me to do, walk around naked?"

My bladder, thankfully, chose exactly that moment to fill itself, and I was suddenly having a strong urge to pee. "Excuse me," I told her as I tried to get up. "I need to use the bathroom."

"Here," my daughter offered, beside me in a flash, hooking her hand under my shoulder. "Let me help." It wasn't an offer, I realized, it was just her polite way of assuming control. I was sure I would need her assistance to get to the toilet, but there was no way on earth I was letting her help me after that.

What man proposes, God disposes...

Before I knew it, Stephanie had already whisked me into the toilet. I was able to place my right shoulder on the wall, not wanting to put any weight at all on my ginger leg, and was about to ask my daughter to leave when she bent down and jerked my shorts down. Not having bothered with underwear the previous night, my cock sprung out - literally sprung out - in front of my daughter.

"Uh hun," I stammered, shocked at the way she had stripped me, her own father. "I think I can take it from here, thank you."

"Like hell you can," she replied. For a second, she hesitated, and I wondered whether she would indeed walk away, but then, as brazenly as her mother usually did, she caught hold of my cock and directed it into the toilet bowl. Her touch was the last trigger - the relief that came with the expulsion was like a breath of fresh air.

Stephanie held on to my cock until the last drop had been drained out. The spent penis was lifeless for just a fraction of a second, and then started to get hard once again. Stephanie reflexively reached for it, but stopped midway when she realized that I wasn't about to pee again. Her cheeks flushed as she bent down in front of me and pulled my shorts back up. I didn't expect her to, but she gripped my cock again and pushed it back into the confines of my shorts.

"At least," she said as the flush was engaged, "You can't complain about the treatment!"

"Next time you get hold of my cock," the medicine and everything else had loosened my tongue, "Just warn me, okay? Jesus, you almost killed me!"

"Next time, huh?" she was fast, and I felt my own face color at my inadvertent admission of there being a next time. "See, I told you you'd like it."

I figured that she would help me back into the bed, but instead, she steered me into the shower stall. "You need a bath," she explained as I glanced at her, "God, you stink!" She was smiling as she said it, so I knew it was a joke. But that she was going to give me a bath was not a joke. I just knew it wasn't a joke.

"What are you going to do, shower with me?" I said, attempting to sound cooler than I felt.

"You have a dirty mind and a very high opinion of yourself, don't you?" she returned. "I was planning on letting you soak up a little hot water in the tub. I don't mind a shower, though, but I'll have to get out of this -"

"No," I almost shouted, panicking. For all my feelings, unfatherly as they were, towards Stephanie, getting under the showerhead with her was the last thing I wanted; for the simple reason that I wouldn't be able to restrain myself if she teased me anymore. "The tub's just fine. It's better than fine, actually."

My daughter pinched my shoulder lightly. "Thank god for that!"

She had me lay on my back on the dry tub. As careful of my ankle as she was fast, she had the shorts off in very little time. Her hands flew over the buttons on my shirt, and by the time I could even come to grips with reality, she had already turned on the water. It wasn't, I think now, time that went fast as much as the fact that I was starting to feel sluggish. My body was controlling my emotions rather than the other way round, which probably accounts for the raging boner I sported.

"Cold or hot?" my daughter asked, a smug grin on her face. "If you ask me, you need a cold shower first."

"With you around, I don't think it would make much of a difference."

"Oh, really? You mean to tell me that I excite you? That this little thing that's poking up towards the sky is actually because of poor ol' me?"

I decided to be brutally honest with her. "Yes, it is. And you know it."

"Why, sir," she feigned outraged innocence, "You shock me. How dare you accuse me of something like... this?"

But before I could reply, she turned on the tap. The first jet of water was cold, and it fell right on the purple head, temporarily disorienting me. As the water started to get warm, Stephanie obtained a bottle of soap from the shelf and dumped a whole lot into the water. Pretty soon, I was inundated in the bubbles.

When the tub was filled to the brim, my daughter stood up. "I'll leave you two alone for some time," she announced, quite obviously referring to my subsiding arousal, "Call me if you need something. I'll be watching TV."

I watched her sexy ass sway as she walked. As soon as she was out of sight, I used my left hand to revive my erection. The events of the past 24 hours demanded that I seek some immediate relief before I did anything stupid. It was the first time I had wanked off inside a tub, but the images that I saw through closed eyes - images of my daughter - were so erotic that I had no trouble getting a tremendous load off my body. Every time she had bent down in front of me, I remembered, I had captured the fleshy tops of her tits. That in itself was enough to fuel my imagination as to what her top held covered.

I must have dozed off, for the next thing I felt was warm lips pressed against my forehead. "Wake up, sweetie," my daughter said, imitating my wife, "How do you feel?"

I saw her reach between my legs; she pulled something, and the water level started to recede. "You've been in it for some time now. Let's get you back to where it's dry and soft, honey."

All she had with her was a towel, and she started to dry my face and chest as soon as the water had gone down enough. By the time she had rubbed my shoulders dry, almost all the water had drained out.

And then, much to my dismay, I saw that whatever stuff I had shot out of my cock had pooled below my balls. The water hadn't washed it away, and the pasty precipitate, I knew, would not escape Stephanie's eyes.

It didn't.

The moment her eyes flicked to my flaccid cock, now not as flaccid; they widened as she noticed my cum. But thankfully, she said nothing. There was something about her expression that told me she was smirking, maybe even secretly pleased, at my sexual activity. I said a silent prayer to God.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, my daughter helped me back on my feet. The 'thing' between my legs was erect once again, but I was no longer as shy as I once had been. Hell, if she had no problem with my arousal, why should I be ashamed of it? Stephanie had me lean against the wall as she dried my thighs and... gulp, my balls. I almost slipped when I felt her hands grip my balls and rub them softly, as if acknowledging the importance of the organ that created her.

A hand over her shoulder, I tripped back into my bedroom. Ever my considerate nurse, Stephanie already had a change of dress laid out for me - a pair of briefs. It was one that I remembered as having a hole somewhere between the legs, but I shrugged off wanting to tell her. I watched in admiration as she slid it on up my legs, matter-of-factly guiding my balls into the cover.

"You wanna stay here," she asked, "Or by the pool? I was planning on a little swim."

"Sounds swell," I replied, relishing the chance to ogle her body. She had this nasty habit of wearing those bikinis around the house that would get her arrested for indecent exposure, and sometimes, if I was lucky enough, I would be able to see the dark outline of her nipples through the damp tops. Absently, I ran my hand over my cock; the gesture did not escape my daughter's attention, but all she did was keep smiling.

My leg was feeling a lot better, I discovered, as we went out to the patio. Steph made me recline on the pool chair, and brought the umbrella over so that I wouldn't burn myself. "Anything else?" she asked coyly.

"Nothing more," I said, sincerely meaning it. This was, indeed, life. Pampered by a gorgeous and sexy woman who is just too much of a cock-tease... life couldn't get much better than this, I thought.

Life, I immediately discovered, could get even better. Stephanie gave me a peck on my lips and stood up. With as much nonchalance as she had displayed so far, she reached behind her and undid the halter top! Her breasts spilled out of the confines, proud and firm, high up on her chest, with an enticing cleavage and ruby-red nipples. It was the first time I had seen her so naked so close. It damn near gave me a heart-attack.

"I hope you don't mind me skinny-dipping," my daughter, noticing my shocked expression, cooed. "It's too hot to wear anything else."

Without waiting for any kind of a reaction from me, she hooked her thumb in the waistband of her shorts and tugged them down her long legs with one smooth motion. A light blue bikini piece, a couple of sizes too small for a woman like my daughter, was stretched over her crotch. She had it off in the blink of an eye, and even as I recovered from the shock of seeing her so scantily dressed, she was wearing nothing.

My mouth was dry as I muttered, "Damn!"

"Are you all right, Daddy? You look pale... no, you look flushed -"

I gave her body one last lusty look before I met her gaze. "Now that, my daughter, could kill a guy like me if you aren't careful. Shit, baby, you could have at least warned me."

She giggled. "Sorry, Dad, but I didn't think you would let me if I told you."

I pointed to the tent of my briefs, feeling too bold. "Does this tell you I would have stopped you?"

"No, but you are always that hard that I thought something was wrong with you. I am your daughter, after all..." She winked at me.

"You sure don't act like it," I shot back.

"Can't help it if I am attracted to the most handsome man in my life."

"Anyone I know?"

Before I knew it, she had her lips pressed quite firmly against mine. She was still off to my side, but her face was right in front of me as we kissed. It was our first such kiss, and I was quite surprised when I felt her probe my lips. Her tongue slid into mine while she cupped my face. With my free hand, I rubbed her bare back, from her nape all the way down to the crack of ass. Her skin was warm to the touch, smooth as silk, and her scent filled my nostrils.

As is so characteristic of such moments, we lost track of time. It was only when she sat on my lap and pressed her breasts against my bandaged wrist that I felt the damned pain hit me. But our kiss was too sweet a thing to lose over pain, and I clenched my fist to avoid crying out. But when she sat on my lap, I felt her weight, light as she was, all the way down my right leg.

I hate to sound like a crybaby, but there was no way I could have just continued kissing my daughter when my leg felt blown off. Stephanie jumped up when she heard my scream, muted as it was, and was immediately transformed back into my daughter, replacing the passionate and svelte woman in my arms who I had been kissing just a few seconds ago.

"What happened?"

I gave her a grimacing smile. "My leg."


"Don't be. It wasn't your fault."

"Maybe... so why do I feel guilty?"

"It's nothing, sweetie. Just go have a swim. It'll go off in a few minutes."

"You sure there's nothing else you want?"

In spite of the pain, my mind conjured up an exact image of what it was that I wanted from her, but I couldn't very well tell that to her face. I shook my head, and she turned away.

Stephanie walked around the pool and went up the springboard. I watched her proudly as she executed a perfect dive, broke the surface cleanly and remained underneath for around ten seconds. Being the oversexed - or undersexed, depending on the way you prefer to call it - creature that I was, as I waited for her to surface, I absently wondered if my daughter had shaved herself there. I hadn't really noticed her that intently, I realized, I had been too shocked to see her tits to think anything else.

Given the sudden intimacy between us, I didn't think she would think it improper if I asked her directly.

"Steph, I was just wondering..."

"What, Pop?"

"I mean, no offence, but - do you shave yourself?"


"Oh, you know... there!"

"My armpits?"

"No! Lower..."

"My legs?"

I realized she was pulling my leg, tricking me into saying exactly what I meant. She was definitely her mother's daughter, alright. Jamie had always managed to wrap me around her pinkie. "No, between them?"

"Between my legs?" she acted puzzled, then enlightened. "Oh, you mean my boyfriend?"

It took me a full second for the humor in her answer to strike me, and I laughed when I understood. She joined me in my laughter. "Good one," I admitted, "But that wasn't what I meant. And if your boyfriend ever fouls up between your legs, just send him to me, okay?"

"Why, so that you can teach him the proper way of getting between a woman's legs?"

"I believe I am qualified enough, young lady, your mother can vouch for that."

With a twinkle in her eyes, she delivered her punch line. "Oh, I don't believe in second hand information. Not even from Mom. Definitely not about something like this."

Not able to come up with a suitable rejoinder caused me to fall back on my earlier query. "So, do you shave your... bush?" There! I had said it.


"Why, what?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Stumped! "Just wondering."

"Why do you wonder why I keep my cunt," she said this without batting an eyelid, "bare for the hunt?"

"Why shouldn't I? I mean, if you're a hunting ground, I need to know what beaver I am hunting."

"I don't recall inviting you to any beaver-hunting on me."

"I usually call in uninvited. That's the best way to catch my favorite prey."

"Are you always this direct?"

"Sometimes, would you believe, I cut through the warnings and just shoot my prey. Ask your mother about that one, too. Back when we were younger, she used to have headaches from all that banging on the kitchen table."

"Wow! That's a side I never expected from either of you."

"See! We parents always have a surprise or two up our sleeve. That should tell you something."

"It does. Always wear helmets when around you."

"You think I would hunt you?"

"From the look in your eyes, it's a wonder you haven't, already!"

"Am I that obvious?" I feigned disappointment.

"Only when you try to catch a glimpse of my tits through the water. At other times, you seem like the perfect gentleman. Except for the odd wank or two in the bath-tub."

"Ouch! That hurt..."

"Probably hit my target. Your groin."

"So now who's hunting?"

"Never said I didn't. You just assumed I didn't."

"Ever gone beaver-hunting?"

"Once. Never again."

"Not that pleasant, huh?"

"Oh, it was good. But it can't compare to having a gun shoot off inside you."

"That was crude."

"Aren't we all? Sometimes, I think, the more we develop, the more we should go back to the caveman days."

"Why? You don't like us Lochinvars at all?" Lochinvar, according to a poem I had once read, was a dashing knight who rode off with his girlfriend into the sunset. Much like John Wayne, I suppose, but more polished.

"Lochinvars? You've still got that breed anywhere?" Apparently, she was either saying there weren't enough gentlemen, or she hadn't read the poem at all. Probably the former.

"Coming back to the topic at hand," I regressed, "Do you, or do you not, have an evergreen forest?"

"Evergreen forest? Nice name. I'll tell Angie that, she's bound to use that for the next Greenpeace campaign of hers... okay, how about this? What I have is a denuded forest that's been paved into a skating rink."

"That smooth?"

"That sharp," she corrected, "Stings you like ice if you don't know where to skate."

As if sensing that this was as far as either of us could reasonably go, we broke out in loud peals. "God," I said, "Did we raise you like this?"

"Of course," my daughter put in between breaths, "Not. I managed to learn a little more decency at school."

"You little minx!"

Finally, all was quiet once again. I went back to reading, and Stephanie went back to her swimming. She was in the water for over half an hour before she decided to call it quits.

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