I’d had a long, hard day at work, teaching youngsters in their second year in high school. They were at that age when they begin to think they know everything and in consequence see no further point in listening to anything parents and teachers said. So, a day in front of these kids could be quite stressful. My own daughter was among them.

She was quite well-behaved at home, but at school, she was just like the other developing nymphs, two or three of whom were testing their power over males by posing themselves during class in such a way that it was not at all difficult to see up their skirts.

I am a forty year old man, whose wife has lost interest in sex, whilst I haven’t. So the sight of cotton-covered pussy mounds had a very un-teacher-like effect – so, as I said, I’d had a hard day at work. My daughter, Carly, was already home when I got there, doing her homework. My wife, Jenny, was in the kitchen making our evening meal, which she did on the days she got home first: other times, I did the cooking, except that one day a week, Carly made dinner. It was inevitably spaghetti Bolognese, but we were encouraging her to expand her repertoire.

Anyhow, I came into the house, appreciating the smells coming from the kitchen, and told Jenny I was heading for the shower. In our bedroom, I stripped off and entered the walk-in shower in our wet-room. Heaters warmed the room as soon as the door was opened and the light came on, so it was very comfortable in there. There was enough room for three adults to shower together, though why three adults might want to shower together is a moot question. A bench with a tiled surface was built in – I think it was intended as somewhere to sit while washing one’s feet, but whatever its true purpose, it was comfortable to sit there, with the shower head directing a fine, warm spray over me.

“Hi, Dad.”

While I’d had my eyes closed, reminiscing about the bolder of the girls at school and developing a useful stiffy as a result, Carly had entered the shower. She was as naked as I, and smiled when she saw my cock.

“Getting to you, are we?” she asked cheekily. Carly was one of the girls who let me see up her skirt, except that unlike the others, quite often she had taken her panties off.

“I have to concede,” I said.

“Good.”

She straddled my legs, grabbed my prick and lowered herself onto it. After a brief hiatus while we both acclimatised to being mated, she began rising and falling, just a few inches, and within moments, began grunting and moaning. Her pussy squeezed hard round my cock, milking for my spunk.

“I’m going to cum very quickly if you keep that up, Carly.”

She paused. “Good. That’s what I want. We can do it again later.”

“It’s not a good idea,” I warned her.

“I shouldn’t worry about mum,” she said. “Who do you think has to wash our clothes and bedsheets?”

“It wasn’t her I was worrying about,” I said. “You could get pregnant.”

Her pussy suddenly went mad, jerking and squeezing. I couldn’t help it, my cock swelled and began firing a salvo of my potent sperm directly at the entrance to my daughter’s unprotected womb. She must have felt it, because she ground against me and kissed me, one hand tweaking a nipple. She went over the edge, too, somewhat to my surprise as we’d barely been mated for two minutes, and wailed her joy into my mouth.

She relaxed against me and for a while we just enjoyed feeling my cock soaking in our combined juices in her pussy. It was an intimate, bonding moment, before we separated and washed ourselves clean. Afterwards, we dried ourselves, Carly went to her room and I to mine, both of us looking for suitable clothes to wear for the evening.

We got downstairs just as Jenny was dishing up. I opened a bottle of pinot noir and poured us each a measure. Carly, as usual after a fuck, was bubbly and talkative. While she was regaling us with an expurgated version of her school day, Jenny picked up on the signs and turned to me.

“You know you’re going to get her pregnant if you keep fucking her.”

“I know. I’ve told her time and time again,” I said. “She doesn’t seem to take any notice.”

“I want a baby, Mum,” said Carly. “And at least, I’m only fucking dad, I’m not going to be bringing home diseases, or having some spotty youth’s brat. We’ll know who the father is – a man who loves me and isn’t going to run away as soon as I tell him we’re going to be parents. And I love him, and whether or not you love him, you don’t want sex, whereas Dad and I do. No problem, as far as I can see.”

It was a long-winded statement, but it seemed to cover all the points, as far as I could tell.

“I assume you’re going to expect Dad and me – mainly me – to look after your child while you carry on at school?” said Jenny.

“He or she will be your grandchild, Mum, so surely it won’t be a huge inconvenience to look after?”

Jenny shrugged. “I suppose not. I just wish you’d waited until you were a bit older.”

“It might be months or even years before I get pregnant, so then I will be older. If you wore dad out in the bedroom, he wouldn’t be thinking of fucking me. And I might add,” she went on, “there’s quite a few of my classmates who think he’s dishy enough to fuck.”

I covered my eyes, embarrassed, and opened them to find Jenny studying me.

“Well, maybe I’ll think about it,” she said. “In the meantime, this isn’t a very proper conversation, you know.”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Okay Mum. Just remember, you have first call on him, I just make do with your left-overs.”

I frowned, not liking this aspersion.

Carly grinned. “I love having the left-overs,” she said.

Family sexual policy being sort-of agreed, we finished our meal and cleared the table before moving into the TV lounge.

“Do you mind, Mum?”

Jenny was facing away from me, in our usual sleep positions. She has the left side of the bed, and sleeps on her left, I have the right side, and sleep on my right. Carly, wearing something very diaphanous and short, was standing beside her mother.

“What should I mind?” asked Jenny, sleepily.

“Well, there’s a dog keeps howling outside my bedroom window and it’s keeping me awake. Do you mind if I sleep in your bed?”

“Oh, okay. Just keep still, I need to sleep. Got a long day tomorrow. And Carly?”

“Yes, Mum?”

“That applies to your dad, too.”

“Yes, Mum.”

Carly came round the bed and I held the covers open for her. She slid under them and we did a bit of shuffling until I was almost touching Jenny, and lying down the centre of the bed, while Carly had pulled the diaphanous thing up and pushed her firm, rounded bum into my groin. I was wearing what I usually wore to bed – nothing – so there was nothing in the way when my cock responded to Carly’s presence by poking her between her legs.

Neither of us spoke as she lifted her left leg and felt underneath her for my cock, placing it along her moist groove. Very slowly, so as not to rock the bed, she slid her pussy lips along my cock until her labia swelled and began to lubricate my shaft. At that point, she used her fingers to push my cock upwards until the tip lodged in her opening.

I put my arm round her and let my fingers find her clit in its hood. I rubbed it gently, slowly and she pushed back until my prick was well inside her, then stopped moving and just let it soak for a while before she began using her internal muscles to massage it. I worked her clit and felt her breathing change to sharp little pants. Jenny was quiet. I figured she’d gone back to sleep, so I risked thrusting into my girl a couple of times. I got my other arm under her and cupped her breast, resulting in an increase in her muscle activity. We gradually got into a rhythm, not powerful enough to move the bed, and for a while enjoyed my prick stirring her insides.

I don’t know if we’d been making too much noise, or rocking the mattress too much, but suddenly Jenny rolled over and her hand came over and went straight for my groin. Finger and thumb went round the base of my cock, while her other fingers cupped my heavy ball sack, brim full of sperm and ready to fire into Carly.

“Are you using a condom?” she whispered in my ear.

The shock caused me to stop moving and my prick to wilt a little.

“N-no,” I said, shocked enough to be truthful.

“What have we been saying? You’ll get our girl pregnant if you don’t stop fucking her. Do you really want that?”

“Oh, Mum!” muttered Carly as her pussy went into spasms and Jenny’s fingers tripped me into an orgasm. Her finger was right on top of the tube through which my sperm was being ejected. If she’d squeezed it, she’d have stopped the flow, but she apparently didn’t realise that, and I pumped Carly full.

When Jenny felt me stop pumping, she pulled Carly back onto my cock. “You’d better stay in her so we don’t get it on the sheet,” she said to me, before rolling over onto her usual side and apparently going to sleep. Carly twisted her head round until our lips could meet, and we kissed – not as father and daughter, but as lovers. I figured Jenny had just given her tacit consent to my fucking our daughter into pregnancy and beyond.

Carly stopped going panty-less at school. This is because I would take her in my car, and at a certain spot on the way, there was an old service road leading to disused business units, overlooked by no one, and by one means or another, she contrived to get another load of my spunk up her snatch. She had to wear panties after that so it didn’t run down her legs. Didn’t stop her smelling of sex though.

After that first night, she slept in Jenny’s and my bed. Around the third night, when Carly got under the covers, Jenny got out and slept in Carly’s room.

The following Friday, Carly asked if a friend could come round for a sleepover. I wasn’t home at the time – catching up on school-work – and Jenny consented. She also forgot to mention it to me, so it was a surprise to come home from a long day at school to find Carly and Sophie Lyndhurst curled up on the sofa, watching a movie on DVD.

“Hi, Dad. You know Sophie, don’t you.”

I knew Sophie all right! She was another of the prick-teasers. She had a well-developed body, with grapefruit-sized breasts and a lot of cleavage, no doubt aided by a push-up bra. Her school skirts were of a non-regulation length, barely covering her bum cheeks, and rumour had it that when the Head Teacher at school had summoned her to his office to require her to wear something more modest, she’d been in there an hour and come out with carte blanche to wear what she liked and a pussyful of Head Teacher spunk. Not that this rumour had ever been confirmed of course. Sophie had subsequently had occasion to visit the Head again, several times. The Head began to look quite sprightly, so we could draw our own conclusions, and wonder how long it would be before he knocked her up.