Chapter 2: Sinning on Her Knees

“That’s it, whore,” Daddy grunted as he rammed his cock into me from behind after bending me over the dining room table. Through the swinging door that connected this room to the kitchen, I could hear my mom humming as she worked on breakfast, oblivious to the naughty acts her husband, my preacher father, performed on my sixteen-year-old body.

“Daddy,” I squealed, bucking back into his thrusts. “What are you doing?”

When I set the table for breakfast, I hadn’t expected Daddy to come up behind me, yank up my skirt, rip down my panties, and bend me over the table before I could even realize what was happening. And then his dick rammed into my pussy.

And that hot, wonderful, wet thrill went through me despite Mother being in the next room. My daddy, Reverend Gary Powell himself, was in my pussy. His incestuous cock pumped in and out of my wet depths, making me shudder as my face pressed into the placemat.

“Mother’s in the other room,” I groaned, the table creaking as Daddy worked his dick in and out of my cunt. “This is so depraved.”

“You wanted to be treated like a whore,” he grunted, balls smacking into my clit, sending sparks of pleasure through me. “This is how whores are treated. They’re fucked.”

My eyes rolled in my head as pleasure surged through me. I was a sinful, slutty preacher’s daughter. As scared as I was of Mother catching us, I couldn’t deny how hot the cock reaming my cunt made me feel. Ripples of bliss shot through my body. I groaned through clenched teeth, not wanting to make too much noise.

But it was hard.

He was hard. My daddy’s cock was in me. I loved it.

My hips rotated, pressing my ass back into his thrusts. His strong hands gripped my hips. I glanced at him over my shoulder, savoring how strong he looked in his dress shirt, his dark tie dangling long and thick towards the cock reaming my cunt. His face was chiseled, his black hair short with sexy wings of gray sweeping from the temples. He was so authoritative. In control. He wanted to fuck my whorish, sinful cunt.

So he did.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I moaned, my gaze casting to the door, staring at it, listening to the hiss of bacon on the stove, the bustle of my straitlaced mother.

She would be apoplectic if she caught us.

“Fuck your naughty daughter,” I groaned anyways, savoring the thrill of illicit, incestuous sex. “Oh, yes. You’re such a wicked preacher for raising such a whore.”

“Controlled by the sinful hole wrapped about my cock,” he grunted, dick sluicing through my wet snatch. His voice had the baritone cadence of a sermon. “Yes, you are. A wanton harlot. Eve frolicking in the garden, defiling the world with sin. It springs from this very hole.”

“It does,” I panted, my juices dripping down my thighs. I was so wet. His cock felt amazing. He slid so deep in me, stretching my tight hole, sending shivers of bliss rippling through my body.

“Tempting men into fornication and illicit congress. It drove you to seduce your own father.”

“Uh-huh,” I groaned, shuddering. “Cum in me, Daddy. Hurry. Before Mother catches us.”

His hands squeezed my hips. This was a fast, hard fuck. No time for foreplay. No chance to take our time and enjoy each other. It was focused, direct. It was all about cumming. My nipples ached in my bra, rubbing against the material as they were pressed into the table. I rocked and bucked, the friction building the pleasure in my depths.

Daddy’s thrusts were so hard. He loved my pussy. I hoped it was the best cunt he had ever experienced. Wet and tight and young. So young. Sixteen. This was so wonderfully taboo. I loved my daddy’s cock in me. I couldn’t wait for the spurt of his cum in me. Hot and thick and salty. So wonderfully taboo and delicious.

And Mother was in the next room oblivious. She had no idea her upright, preacher husband was a fornicator. A dirty cheater. A man fucking their daughter. A tremble went through my body. The thought raced down my spine and into my nethers.

My back arched. I let out a low moan and came.

“Yes, you sinful harlot,” Daddy grunted as my pussy milked his cock.

My flesh writhed about his thrusting dick. He rammed it into me so hard and fast. The friction sent ripples of pleasure through my body. I groaned, stars dancing before my eyes as I savored how wonderful it felt.

Fucking. Wonderful, sinful fucking.

I was so glad I embraced it.

Mother’s humming increased. She was almost done with breakfast. My body heaved, the fear of being caught only increasing the bliss washing through my mind. A bold part of me hoped we were caught. To see the shock in Mother’s face when she realized I was a sexual being, that all her whispers of denying my urges, of avoiding even masturbation, would make me a good person and keep me from burning in the fires of Damnation.

She wanted to keep me from this bliss.

It would serve her right to catch us and see she failed. “Cum in me, Daddy.”

“Harlot!” He thrust into me and grunted.

A huge smile burst across my lips. Hot, salty cum pumped into my body. Incestuous seed filled my pussy. I groaned, a tingle of delight racing through me. My orgasm died down to a buzzing bliss as I wiggled, savoring his spurting dick. He shuddered, cock sliding in and out a final time then withdrew.

And dropped a silver dollar coin on the table. My pay. If I acted like a whore, then he would treat me like one.

I snagged it as it danced on the table, clutching it in my hand as I heard Daddy zip up behind me. I savored the cold feel of the coin in my palm as his seed leaked out of me. His hand smacked my ass before walking to the head of the table.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I panted as I sat up. I reached down and pulled my skirt up my thighs as my mother backed through the door, holding breakfast.

My heart thudded faster, fear striking cold. Without the thrill of daddy’s cock in me, I was so aware of my flushed face and my hands pulling up my panties against my sloppy cunt. Already his cum leaked out and soaked into my panties.

I ripped my hands out from beneath my skirt and smoothed them as Mother turned around, a big smile on her face. “Morning, dear.” She gave Daddy a kiss on the mouth. “Morning, Alexandra.”

“Morning, Mother,” I said, trembling, my hands clasped before me as she set three plates down on the table.

“Would you fetch your father his coffee?” Mother asked, giving me a smile. Even though it was only breakfast, she already had her haired perfectly coiffed into the short styled favored by the First Lady, Jackie Kennedy.

“Yes, Mother,” I said, speaking polite, the way I was raised.

She nodded her head as I rushed into the kitchen, my Mary Janes sounding so loud on the hardwood floors. Daddy’s cum made my panties squishy. I could smell the scent of his jizz wreathing me like a perfume.

She would smell it.

I rushed back in with Daddy’s mug of black coffee, setting it down on the table before him. He gave me a fatherly kiss on the cheek, just brushing the corner of my lips which sent an excited thrill through me. I took my seat on his left across from Mommy, my breakfast of bacon and western omelets steaming and ready to eat.

“What is that smell?” Mother asked, her nose wrinkling. “Something musty.”

My cheeks warmed. “I’m sure it’s nothing, Mother.”

“I’ll have to open the windows and air the room out.” She sighed. “Well, shall we say grace?”

I took Daddy’s strong, warm hand, a flush shooting through my body, then reached across the table for Mother’s. Daddy said grace. You could hear no hint of hypocrisy as he asked God to bless us. He had just fucked his daughter on this table, the scent lingering in the room.

His hypocrisy was what led to my sexual awakening. Two weeks ago, I was working on the garden outside our church, Thousand Oaks Methodist, when I discovered Daddy fucking Donna Paxtor, married to Deacon Bill, over his desk. Watching my father, who had always preached against sexual immorality, made me realize the adults had lied to me. That sex was amazing not something to be avoided. I masturbated watching them and had my first orgasm.

So I set about seducing my father. Last Sunday, Daddy fucked me in the dark baptismal changing room at our church, popping my cherry. I had hoped to set it up so Daddy didn’t know it was his own daughter he was fucking, but he figured it out.

And he didn’t care. He was such a hypocrite, he hungered for incestuous congress. A sexy, hunky, wonderful hypocrite.

I came so hard.

All last week, we had been fucking in the house or at the church. Whenever Daddy could get his hands on me, he would ram his dick into my cunt. And he always paid me a silver dollar or a crisp one. It was only right. I had told him I wanted to act like a whore.

And I loved it. I had to be the most sinful preacher’s daughter who had ever lived.

After grace, Mother and Daddy talked about the space program which I rolled my eyes over. Apparently, another one of the Mercury flights was coming up in May. The last one, which had my dad excited.

And then the talk turned to me.

“And how are you planning on spending your spring break?” Mother asked.

I blinked. We had talked about it already. Before I could say that nothing has changed and I planned on working on the flowers at the church—and fucking Daddy any chance I could—he said, “She’ll be helping me with the outreach in Los Angeles.”

I glanced at Daddy, my mouth open. I quickly closed it before Mother admonished me with one of her aphorisms like, “An open mouth invites flies.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Mother said. “It is good to know she’s diligent in her faith.”

“She’s very diligent in her faith,” Daddy said. “Very obedient. She is understanding her place in the world.”

I nodded my head, wondering what outreach program was in Los Angeles. I couldn’t remember hearing about one. We lived in the suburbs of Thousand Oaks, a short drive from the city. Sometimes my friends and I would drive out to Los Angeles to see a movie. There were several great drive-ins.

Places my last boyfriend always wanted to fool around. It was a shame I hadn’t had my sexual awakening back then, or I would have fucked him and still be going steady with Ricky.

It really didn’t matter what we were doing in LA. I was just glad to be spending the day, and maybe the week, with Daddy. I was sure he had all manner of wicked things we could do. He had taught me about pussy licking, and I learned even more about blowjobs from Daddy than I had from Deacon Bill.

Which Deacon Bill appreciated last time I blew him. I even let him feel my tits. Next time, I would let the Deacon fuck me. Which would be very wicked.

I squirmed with excitement all through breakfast, and not just because my panties were a sodden mess. I couldn’t wait. So I was thrilled when we finished breakfast and we could get going. Only we weren’t leaving right away. Daddy had work at the church. He told me to be there after lunch.

Which left me helping Mother with the spring cleaning around the house. We polished the silverware while I stared at her and shook my head. She didn’t like sex. And poor Daddy had to find it from other women to satisfy the desires awoken by sinful harlots. If she would just be a whore, like me, then Daddy never would have cheated on her.

But then I never would have learned all about sex and how wonderful Daddy’s cock was.

So maybe it was for the best that she was a tight ass, as Deacon Bill put it.

Finally, lunch past, I was at the church and climbing into Daddy’s Buick. It was an older car my parents bought in the early Fifties when I was a kid, but Daddy took great care of it. I sat on the passenger seat. There were no seat belts like on the newer car, and I sat perched with excitement as we drove into Los Angeles.

And to a seedy part of town. I had heard of the Sunset Strip before. Boys whispered about going down there and buying nudie magazines. And I could see why. Between the bars, there were shops advertising XXX magazines and burlesque clubs promising “Live Nude Go Go Dancers.” It was all so sinful.

“Daddy, what type of outreach are we doing here?” I asked. “Are we trying to stop all the sinful fornication?”

Daddy glanced at me, his face stern. “This is where whores go, and you want to be one.”

“I do, Daddy,” I grinned. “Do you want me to dance at a burlesque show and reveal my naked body to all the horny men?”

“Does that make that sinful hole between your thighs wet?”

“So much, Daddy. Want to feel? I cleaned up from earlier. So all the juices are mine.”

“You are a wicked temptress.”

I reached over, rubbing his bulging cock straining his dark-brown slacks. “So wicked, Daddy.” If the gear shifter wasn’t in the way, I would lean over and suck on him as he drove. But it was, so I just rubbed him until he parallel parked before a movie theater called the Sunset Playhouse. An arrow lined in blinking, yellow bulbs flashed around a sign promising “Adult Movies.”

I blinked. “What is this place, Daddy? I didn’t think we were going to the movies.”

“They show stag films here,” he answered.

“Stag films?” My eyebrows furrowed.

“Blue films.”

I shook my head. “I have a lot to learn, Daddy.” I swallowed. “Are they ... pornographic?”

He smiled.

A wicked, hot thrill shot through me. I shuddered and squeezed his hard cock. Pornographic films. I didn’t know what made them stag or blue, but I was eager to see other people fucking. It was so hot when I watched Daddy fuck Donna Paxtor. I licked my lips and hopped out of the car. A hot shudder ran through my body as I stepped into the warm day.

I moved to Daddy, hooking my arm in his as we headed into the seedy theater. A bored man in a rumpled, red uniform, manned the desk. His eyes flicked to me and something stirred in them. He straightened, eyeing my youthful, schoolgirl looks.

I bet not too many girls looking like me came in here. What did the man think my relationship to Daddy was? I bet he thought I was his escort. His prostitute.

I was Daddy’s whore.

“Silver dollar for you,” the clerk said to Daddy. “She can get in for free. Matinee special for the ladies.”

The way he spoke made me shiver. My nipples ached in my bra. He stared at me like I was meat. Hot, hungry, succulent meat he wanted to feast on. I wiggled in my skirt, my pussy growing wetter and wetter. I wondered what his cock was like. Was it hard and thick like Daddy’s? Would he love to feel my lips wrapped about his dick?

I gave him a smile, full of all my innocent and wanton lust. He groaned, hand clenching tight on the counter’s edge. Daddy slapped down a silver dollar coin then swept me past the man into the theater. There was a disreputable lobby. Everything looked worn down, far past its prime. In the thirties, this must have been a beautiful place with velvet curtains and gold walls, but now it looked so sad.

From the door leading to the theater, I could hear the unmistakable sounds of a woman’s passionate, throaty moan. A muffled, “Yes, yes, yes,” came through the door. My excitement peaked. The movie had already started and there was fucking going on in there.

Daddy put his arm around my shoulder and led me in, pushing open the door. There, on the screen, was a woman being fucked from behind, her face twisted with passion, her breasts jiggling beneath her. The man’s body thrust hard, his hands gripping her waist.

“Take it, whore. Take it all!” the man growled.

“Oh, yes! Oh, fuck!”

The theater was dark, but I noticed scattered men throughout it, watching the screen. Many wore suits like Daddy, businessmen on their lunches enjoying a cheap thrill, and others had the look of beatniks and even one with long hair like a hippie. They were focused on the screen. A few men’s arms moved, and as I walked past a row, I could see a man jerking his cock, eyes locked on the screen.

A hot thrill shot through me as I studied his cock.

Daddy led me into the middle of the theater. We moved down the aisle then shuffled down the row to find our seats, my pussy growing hotter and hotter. The screen was so large, the sex filling my vision as I sank down onto the seat beside Daddy. The woman’s face twisted.

She was cumming.

“Wow, Daddy,” I gasped, my eyes drinking in the filthy sight. My thighs pressed together, rubbing, trying to take the pressure off my aching clit.

Then the man ripped his cock out of her. The woman rolled onto her back and the man jerked his cock. I gasped as his cum erupted, painting the woman’s soft breasts. She moaned, squeezing them as the man spurted lines of white across her tits. She panted, massaging the creamy mess into her tits.

And then a new movie played. A man and woman kissed before a bed. I shuddered, eyes locked on the screen as clothing came off. The woman slipped down before the man, her tits exposed, and pulled his cock out of his slacks.

He wore no boxers beneath.

“Oh, wow,” I gasped as the woman practically inhaled his cock. She bobbed her face so fast, sliding up and down his shaft.

I squirmed worse. My pussy grew hotter and hotter. My breathing quickened. My nipples ached. I wanted to free my breasts and play with them. My hands, resting on my knees, gripped them, palms sweaty. If I let go of my knees, I was afraid I would start masturbating like the gentleman I saw.

The woman sucked harder, louder. She bobbed her mouth, saliva dripping down her chin. Then the man seized her hair and fucked her mouth hard. He grunted, balls slapping against her jaw as she somehow took all of his cock into her mouth.

“Daddy, how’s she doing that?” I gasped.

“Deep-throating,” Daddy answered, his voice thicker, more gravelly. “She relaxes her throat and swallows his cock.” Daddy shifted. He must be so hard, too.

I understood. My pussy was on fire, making me wiggle in my seat.

“You keep squirming. Does it make you hot? Do you want to touch your sinful hole, harlot?”

I nodded my head.

“Why aren’t you?”

My eyes widened. I glanced at Daddy then remembered the gentleman. He was masturbating. He wasn’t denying himself his pleasure. He embraced it. Why shouldn’t it? Even here, in this place, where strange men could watch me.

I smiled. Strange men could watch me.

My pussy clenched even harder. I leaned back in my seat and spread my legs wide, my left knee touching Daddy’s right. My hands slid up my skirt as I stared at the screen. The man grunted every time he fucked his cock into the woman’s mouth. My pussy clenched, growing hotter and hotter as I reached my panties.

I debated shoving my hands in them or taking off my panties entirely.

It was simple. I was a whore.

“Daddy,” I asked as I peeled off my panties, “can you hold onto these for me?”

I pulled my panties off over my black Mary Janes and dropped them onto his lap. The cool air of the theater washed over my naked sex. As Daddy lifted my panties to his nose, inhaling my tart musk wreathing the delicate cloth, I shoved my hands between my thighs and frigged myself.

Pleasure shuddered through me as I rubbed at the folds of my pussy and teased my clit. I squirmed, bitting my lip, watching the man in the movie rip his cock out of the woman’s mouth and erupted across her face.

“Oh, yes,” I moaned, my pussy growing even juicer. It was so humiliating to the woman. She had cum dripping down to her naked tits. I licked my lips, envying her as I rubbed harder at my pussy.

The next film started up, and there were two women with one man. And the women were kissing, their lush lips meeting. Lesbians ... My eyes widened. I rubbed even harder at my cunt as I watched the two women kissing each other and then the man and then they went back to kissing each other.

Their hands rubbed at each other’s breasts through their skimpy lingerie. They leaned back on the bed. One woman’s breasts appeared and the other leaned down, sucking on her nipple while the man ripped off her panties and licked her pussy.

“Yes, yes, yes,” the woman being pleasured by the other two moaned.

“Oh, my Lord,” I gasped, watching in fascination of one woman sucking another’s nipples.

I had only the vaguest idea that women did things like that with each other. I had heard lesbian or dyke whispered a few times. My pussy dripped juices down to my skirt, forming a wet spot. I shoved a pair of fingers into my depths, reaming them in and out as I watched the women more than the men. They kissed and licked each other, including between their thighs.