Chapter 1

My name is Michael Knox! My story started six months ago - before my wife killed herself taking pills.

She'd been unstable for the last couple of years seemingly coinciding with our twin daughters graduating from high school.

Whenever she encountered me talking to either one of the girls, she'd blurt out, "Oh, I see — you want her, don't you, Mike?"

"What're you talking about Annie?" I replied. "I love you — you're beautiful and wonderful."

"You're just trying to get me out of the room, so you can put your hands on your daughter — touch her all over, maybe even fuck her. Yeah, that's what you want — isn't it to fuck your daughters?"

I excused myself from Emma and took my wife Annie to her room, giving her a sedative to calm her down. I stayed until she fell asleep.

"Daddy, what's wrong with Mom," Emma asked?

"Honey, she's seen tons of doctors, and they all think it's something related to post-partum depression and menopause colliding inside her at the same time."

"Will she ever get better?" Grace walked in asking.

"I don't know girls — it came on so suddenly. She may get better or not. All we can do is hope. Come on, I'll fix us all some dinner."

Annie and the twins are all redheads, while I'm the lone blond in the family.

This outburst of hers was one of many, until one day six months later, I came home from work and found her without a pulse, with a suicide note. I called an ambulance, the police - then the girls who had friends bring them home.

They saw the ambulance taking their mother away, and they cried on my shoulder, while I told the policeman what I'd found.

After the funeral, using savings, I moved all of us about 400 miles away, where we got the girls enrolled in community college, and I started my dream job as a writer of fiction for a publishing house, making me a stay-at-home Dad.

Besides being twins, and redheads — my 19-year-old daughters are stone-cold foxes! While I'd never had a single dirty or sexual thought about them, their mother's outbursts caused me to reflect.

I met Annie in college, remembering that her red hair caught my attention immediately. We quickly became inseparable, to the point of scheduling classes together. The sex with her was off-the-charts fantastic.

After school, we stayed together for a year, before I took her out to a Red Pepper Restaurant and proposed to her. She said 'Yes', and I took my degree in English Literature and became a teacher, hoping to start the Great American Novel before I turned fifty.

Now the boys are probably hounding my daughters, and remembering that I was one of them myself, I called them into my office to talk to them. They came in and sat down.

"Hey girls, how's college treating you?" I started casually.

"Daddy, is this a talk about sex?" Emma inquired.

I sputtered a bit, which gave her my answer; I suppose.

"Girls, I met your mother when she was just a little older than you two are — I remember everything I did to get her to ... go out with me ... and more."

Grace responded, "Mom told us a little about the two of you, Daddy!"

"OK," I said looking into her eyes and seeing a bit of Annie. "While your mother was quite beautiful when she went to college, the girls today — you two specifically — are much more - how do I say this - endowed than the girls of my era."

Emma turned to Grace and said, "Daddy says we got bigger boobs than Mom did."

"I know what endowed means, Emma ... Go on Dad, anything else?" Grace asked.

"Well ... all I want to say is if you decided to have sex with a boy, make him be responsible. I'd even advise you to carry in your pur..."

I saw them both pull out of their purses a still-connected three pack of condoms.

" ... Good for you girls, you're protected and ready — but remember, that a guy has many methods for getting past a girl's objections. Hearing a girl say 'No' is like an invitation to keep going, to see if you can get through the defenses she's thrown up."

"Daddy," Grace suggested, "It sounds like you might've been one of those guys."

"Before I met your mother I was — I was ... pretty good at picking up girls," I admitted.

"OK," Emma responded, "Try to pick up Grace!"

"Ah ... Well, I don't know about that girls - you are my daughters, even if you are so very beautiful."

"It's OK Dad, try me?" Grace said crossing her arms bringing attention to her nice chest.

I stopped and rubbed my hands together wondering if I should really do this or not - but they looked so innocent — I figured what the hell?

I turned around, put on an attitude, and turned back and said looking right into my Gracie's eyes, "Has anyone ever told you that your red hair was the color of the sunset over the Grand Canyon?"

"Wow," Emma said, "That's a great line Dad."

Seeing Grace's arms uncrossing, "And those blue eyes of yours, remind me of the ocean during a beautiful calm day."

I heard a sound from Grace, so I kept going. "So, you must be the reason men fall in love — I was in love with you in my dreams last night — Am I still dreaming?"

She got up and plastered me with a kiss, not completely surprising me, but certainly surprising Emma.

Grace separated from me and said, "That was the most perfect thing I've ever had said to me. I'm sorry, Daddy?"

"Don't be, Gracie, I've learned to use my powers for good," I said, causing them both to giggle.

"Do me, Daddy — please, please?" Emma said with a plea and a giggle.

"I don't think so Em," I said.

She turned her head down and made whimpering sounds. I took her chin, raised it and said, "I had a really bad day, and it always makes me feel better to see a pretty girl smile — will you smile for me? Oh, your red hair, your blue eyes and your smile make you a one-of-a-kind — actually the kind of girl I could kiss all day long!"

Mmmmmpf — her mouth was on mine like white on rice before we separated.

"Boy Daddy, you still got it - why don't you go out sometime and find someone to love?" Grace said.

"Girls, I'm just fine — I don't need anybody else; I've got the two of you. So, have you learned something today?"

"Yeah, my Daddy is really something special," Emma said.

"Not only that," Grace said, "He's a great kisser too!"

Ever since that little demonstration, my girls give me a flirty smile every chance they get.

I was in my workroom, quietly typing on my newest story when Grace came in.

"Where's your sister?" I asked.

"Upstairs, working on homework — I told her that I'd be up in a little bit. Daddy, am I as pretty as Mom was?" she asked coming up behind my chair and touching the tops of my shoulders.

"Yes, you are Grace — what's going on?" I turned to her and motioned for her to sit on my lap.

This has been our way of talking to one another since I can remember, long before Annie had started her rants. Many a time, one or both would come in and ask to sit on my lap.

They would tell me about their day, every single little thing they did together. Sometimes Grace came in by herself, and we cuddled and talked for maybe ten minutes, then Emma would come in, elucidating the very same details in the exact same order as I had my arms around her.

They were smart enough to alternate who came in first, knowing I was going to hear the same set of stories, but I listened to both girls very clearly as if the story was brand new.

We always ended these moments with a kiss on the lips, although as the girls got older, they started kissing me on the cheek instead — about the time they were turning 14 or so.

At 16 years old, kisses stopped altogether, but the girls were still comfortable sitting on my lap. It was just after their 16th birthday that Annie had begun her random and haphazard ramblings.

"Well, since that day, you ... kissed me, I've been looking and listening to boys who come up and try to talk to me. None of them are very cute, and absolutely none of them said anything close to as wonderful as the things you said. Why are all boys so ... stupid?" Grace said.

"They aren't stupid; they just don't get it — that the pretty girls are looking for the same kind of guys their mothers found. I could show you study after study, that shows boys are looking for girls who remind them of Mom, and girls are looking for boys who remind them of their Daddy."

"Why would I want a copy of my Daddy?" Grace uttered, "When all I have to do is ask you for help about ... whatever it is?"

"Not all girls have the kind of relationship with their father we have, sweetheart. Loving, caring and ready to discuss anything you need."

"Well, there is someone I like, but I don't know how he feels about me?" Grace offered.

"Why not," I responded?

"Because, he's older than me."

"Oh, an older man — they're just boys too. Give him a chance — maybe he's someone to pursue. Do I know him?"

Getting up off me, she left and went upstairs.

Whether they're daughters, wives, sisters or mothers — women are very confusing.

I went back to work on my story and there was a rap on the door, "Come in Grace."

"Daddy, it's me Emma — Can I talk to you?" she asked.

These girls seem to be tag-teaming me today, so I moved from in front of my computer to putting my elbows on my desk, and interlocking my fingers.

"Sure Emma, what's going on?"

"I have a boy problem," she said.

"You too!" I muttered, "What kind of boy problem?"

"Well, I'm 19 and I found a guy who I think I really like, but he's A LOT older than me," she said.

"Define A LOT, Em?"

"Over twice my age, actually Daddy."

"Is this a teacher?" I interrogated.

"No, not exactly," she fumbled.

"What exactly?" I said as the dimmed out light bulb above my head finally went on.

"Do I know him, Emma?" I asked with a hint of a smile on my face.

"Not exactly," she said playing with her hair a little.

"Come here sweetheart, sit on your Daddy's lap and tell me who it is 'you really like, ' a lot?"

She happily came over and settled in my lap, as I smelled her shampoo as it mixed with her own personal scent.

"It's you, Daddy — I love you!" she said now running her hand on my face. "Ever since that kiss you gave me, I don't enjoy being around any boys my own age — I want you!"

"Shit, Emma — that isn't ... I'm not ... what are ... my dear sweet Emma; you must realize how silly that sounds - don't you? A beautiful, vibrant young lady like yourself shouldn't talk to her father like that. I may just forget myself and do something that we both would regret; you do realize that — don't you?"

"I don't care at all Daddy — Grace and I have talked a lot since the day you 'made your move, ' and we both want you, separately or together — it doesn't matter. We know how much you loved Mom, and we want to be loved the same way ... by the same man."

"Oh, Emma — when your mother started her bluster about how I really wanted the two of you instead of her; I thought she was being absurd. As they got more frequent and her fulminations got stranger and stranger, I actually started thinking about what it would be like between myself and ... either one of you. Every time I think about it; I get a little more turned on. I'm not going to destroy my daughter's faith in love, by doing something stupid with either of you."

Opening the door was Grace in a rather smallish bikini. I saw her fingers go behind her back, and before I could say anything, her bouncing, beautiful breasts were less than an arm's length away from me. Emma got up and stripped her blouse and bra off, and I had both of my daughters - topless in the same room with me.

I was unable to say a single syllable, as Emma came up real close to me and put my hands on her bare breasts.

Grace came over and put her hand down the front of my trousers.

"Yep, he's hard — come on Daddy, let Emma, and I show you just how much fun twins can be," Grace said.

"You were right about one thing Grace, show a guy a nice set of tits, and they go as dumb as a rock," Emma said with a giggle in her voice.

They each grabbed one of my hands and took me upstairs. I was both flabbergasted and sensory overloaded as I felt them take me to my king-size bed.

"Girls - Condoms?"

They showed me what looked like at least 30 condoms, as they combined to undress me - Em on my pants and Grace on my shirt. They pushed me back on the bed, as they both stripped the rest of the way naked.

Grace opened a condom and put it on me.

Emma asked, "Daddy, which one of us would you like to fuck first?"

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Fa/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Incest / Father / Daughter / InLaws /