Chapter 7

Mr. Marrotta was working out two years of pent-up frustration as he pounded his daughter’s cunt, and picked up the pace as he knew he was cum soon and very hard.

Sarah reached down between her legs and stroked her father’s ball sack, which put him over the edge, and his cock began to twitch and spurt deep within her. She squeezed herself tightly around him and continued to buck herself up and down, coaxing every drop of his load out of his throbbing cock.

She pulled herself off his deflating cock, and climbed into his lap, nuzzling her head between his shoulder and neck and draping one arm over his chest. “I love you, Daddy,” Sarah cooed, as she tilted her head up and gently kissed his cheek.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he replied while rubbing her back and pulling her more tightly against him.

The blast of hot cum that hit the back of Sarah’s throat snapped her out of her 40-year-old daydream, and she fought the urge to gag as she swallowed her husband’s cum. She blushed at the memory of the story she had never told another living soul, not even her husband, as she was never sure he could handle the sexual relationship she carried on with her father right up to the day that she and John were married. As she coaxed out the last bit of cum from her husband’s cock, Sarah recalled the last blowjob she gave her father in the back of the church moments before he walked her down the aisle to ceremonially give her away to her husband-to-be.

‘Maybe I can tell him now,’ Sarah thought to herself, now that John had done with his daughter what Sarah had done with her father all those years ago. She crawled up from under the covers, snuggled her head into the crux of her husband’s neck and shoulders, and said, “You remind me so much of my dad.”

“Is that right,” responded John, as he rubbed her back and pulled her more tightly against him and drifted off into a blissful sleep.

Michelle stirred out of the deepest sleep she could remember in recent weeks, the afterglow of an amazing dream about her father still running through her head. She had been fantasizing about being with her dad since she was a young girl, and the details of this dream seemed far more vivid than any she had ever had about him. The way he took her so roughly from behind, in the laundry room of all places, caused a bit of an urgent need between her legs as the last vestiges of a good night’s sleep disappeared. Still clinging to the remnants of those erotic details, she let her hand wander down across her belly, and her fingers dragged through the lips of her wet vagina.

What the fuck? Michelle gasped as she shot up to a sitting position in the bed. The sheet and comforter fell away from her upper body, exposing her breasts to the cool morning air, and she looked down at the matted landing strip above her clit. Michelle always slept in pajamas, especially when at her parent’s house, so she was surprised to find that she had slept in the nude the prior night.

Her brain snapped into consciousness almost as quickly as she shot up in the bed, and the feelings of shame, fear, disbelief, and satisfaction washed over her body in waves as she realized that, indeed, it wasn’t a dream. Michelle sat there in shock, the middle finger of her right hand still buried halfway in her snatch, wondering what the ramifications would be for what she did or, more aptly, allowed to be done.

The more she thought about the wonderful day with her father, from the closeness on the subway ride, the unexpected events which led to her giving him road-head, and the awesome crescendo of finally having daddy’s cock inside her, the more her pussy ached for morning attention. She lay back on her pillow and continued to diddle herself, re-running the events from the evening through her head. With her left hand pulling and pinching her nipples, it didn’t take Michelle long to explode in a toe-curling orgasm, her thighs clamping down around her hand as she shivered in her bed.

Mmmmm, bacon, Michelle purred to herself, hand still firmly wedged inside her vagina, as the aroma of breakfast wafted up from the kitchen. The warm feeling from cumming was quickly replaced with a cool rush of anxiety when she realized that, at some point, she would have to go downstairs and face her father.