Chapter 1

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

Desc: Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - My three daughters and I are taking our family's annual trek to see my brother Edwards family. It is the third trip since my wife died. (I left out some codes on purpose)

“Delia, Delia ... please come down, we need to get going!” I said, yelling up the stairs.

We were taking a five-day driving trip to my brother’s place. It was myself, Jim, 44 ... Delia, my oldest at 21 ... Sarah, 19 and my youngest, Annie, who is 16.

I am a widower. My wife was in the wrong place at the wrong time and was killed by the stray bullet of a turf war. We moved 600 miles away. That was two years ago.

Being the father of three girls has its peculiarities, so I asked Delia to be available when the discussion would be better suited between two girls. She was very smart. She got through college in three and a half years, and then moved back to help me recover from the loss of Pamela, my wife.

I work from home for Accenture, so anywhere I lived I can work. With Delia and her two suitcases and a backpack, and my other girls having just as much, it ended up with Annie and Sarah in the very back, and Delia and me up front. We flipped a coin and I started the driving. No big deal.

“Everybody settled in?” I yelled.

‘Yep’ ‘Yes’ and a ‘Hell Yes’ from Delia told me to get started. As I was driving down the road looking to get on the freeway, I heard from the back of the car, “Are we there yet?” followed by giggles from my youngest daughters. That has been a running gag in our family for a very long time.

Delia looks the most like her mother, with the luxurious long black hair, opal colored eyes and a figure that could grace any magazine cover in the world.

Annie and Sarah are also pretty, but took more of my characteristics, including light brown hair and blue eyes. They also seem to be getting the same nice round breasts as their mother had.

“Daddy,” Delia asked me, “Do you think I’m pretty?”

What a loaded question. “What makes you ask that, sweetheart?”

“The last few boyfriends I’ve had seemed skittish after a few dates,” she answered.

Our conversations often were about men and women these days.

“What exactly do you mean, Delia?”

“Well, since I live at home, they all seem to get nervous around the time I suggest they meet you.”

That made me feel better about my ‘dad-ishness, ‘ I am 6ft3, Delia is 5ft8. I do have a gun case with seven separate revolvers and three rifles on display.

My favorite is my refurbished working Winchester Model 70. I remember how one of her beaus came in to meet me, and I had pulled out my favorite rifle asking him, ‘Have you ever gone hunting, Richard?”

“No, Sir, I haven’t!”

“Hunting is really cathartic. Maybe some time, we all can go hunting together. Delia is a crack shot, like Annie Oakley,” I said.

Delia was in the room, rolling her eyes at my dissertation, and Richard seemed intimidated. I don’t understand why. After he left, she said, “Daddy, that was rude of you.”

“Did I say anything that wasn’t true, D?”

“No, but it was still over the top.”

“Whoever you end up with, needs to understand my position on gun’s and my daughters.”

“I remember the first time meeting your mother’s father,” I said to her. “I was taller and more muscular than he was. We hit it off and he allowed me to date your mother.”


“That was a different time back then, Sweetie, there were standards and expectations from both parents and their children. Girls brought boys home to meet the parents. The father had to give his approval if the boy wanted to marry his daughter.”

“Lots of things like that. Times have changed. These days’ guys and gals ‘hook up’ for a while to see how things work, and then maybe she brings him home to dad. Much of the time, the girl finds herself pregnant, and never comes home again thinking she might be ostracized and/or expected to have an abortion.”

“You know that I would never do that, don’t you James?” Delia asked.

“Now, you are calling me James?”

“Would it bother you, if I did?” she came back with.

“Can I be blunt?” I said to her.

“Why stop now?” she said with a giggle.

“I’ve gotten used to you being around, helping your sisters, cooking dinners. I would really miss you if you found a boy to love.”

“James, I love you, more than any ... boy!”

“You say that now, but some 25-year-old could come along and sweep you off your feet. I would have a serious problem on my hands, for a while, at least.”

She had been lying back, with her shoes kicked off and up on the AC vent. She was wearing a tube top, with a shirt over it and short jeans, not quite daisy dukes, but close. I could see the edges of her pink panties. She has great legs, just like her mother.

My remark caused her to drop her feet and move over next to me. It reminded me of how her mother used to sit by me on these long drives. Delia even went so far as to put her hand on my thigh.

“Dear, that could be dangerous,” I said.

“Daddy, you don’t mean that I make you ... nervous, do you?”

Using the ‘Daddy, ‘ again, she’s good.

“If you saw a picture of your mother when she was in her twenties, you’d think you were her clone.”

“Did mom put her hand on your thigh when driving?” she asked, moving it ever so slowly.

“Yes, and a bit more. However, I am not ready to tell those stories to anyone, much less my beautiful daughter,” I answered.

“What if I did this, Daddy?” she asked, moving her hand to on top of my groin.

“Please stop, Delia. A man can only take so much of that.”

“Did mom jack you off during road trips?”

I ignored that question. She moved her hand away, but not before my dick twitched. She lightly put her hand back and it twitched some more.

“Daddy, how long since you have ... made love to anyone?”

“The night before your mother died,” I answered sheepishly.

I refocused and looked straight ahead. We had traveled just over 130 miles. I was coming up on the last gas for a while and yelled, “PIT STOP IN FIVE!”

The relative quiet from the back of the car turned into giggles again. No doubt talking about boys. I pulled into the Phillips 66 Truck stop. They all got out, Delia stayed back to ask if I wanted anything from the store. I gave her an order, and she kissed me on the lips and left.

Everyone came back out and Delia got in to take over the driving.

I finished pumping the gas, and made a beeline for the bathroom. Coming out, she honked the horn, getting my attention, and I got in the car, seeing Anne and Sarah talking a mile a minute.

The brown bag of goodies was between us, and I moved over after I got in the car.

She pulled away and continued the drive. I reached in and found a Fanta Orange Zero.

“Thanks sweetie, you remembered what I liked. You will make a marvelous wife for a very lucky man.”

“Thank you, Daddy, I also got some goodies for later.”

I reached in and found a couple of candy bars. The second time in, my hand found a three pack of Trojan condoms.

“Exactly whom are these intended for?” I wondered, actually scared to death to hear her answer.

“Me and you, for later in the hotel room. I’m ovulating right now. Without a condom, I would certainly become pregnant, unless you wanted to have a baby or two with me?”

“It’s talk like that, that might cause something ... to happen between us. Have I been that obvious lately?”

“Daddy ... James, you are the most handsome man I’ve ever known. I would love to make love to you, protected or not!”


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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Romantic / Incest / Father / Daughter / Pregnancy / Cream Pie /