Chapter 2: Beyond the Infinite

Greg pivoted on his knees, having little idea how to respond to his daughter’s question with any diplomacy. Too late, he realised that his fully exposed and throbbing erection was something in the way of visual overload for a naïve if not virginal teenager. He noticed her mortified glance downwards.

“Ohh God - sorry, Shelley,” he muttered, stumbling over the words as he attempted to shield his daughter from a sight that might well have taken her down the same road as Medusa’s head, had not he partially covered the offending item with his hands.

Behind him, Tracey made no attempt to sit-up, merely using her palms to shield her exposed genitals from her daughter. Not that Shelley was looking, given the biological viewing options on offer fully up close and personal as they were at that moment.

His daughter he noted, had in the interim, slipped her panties back on and was seated up against the headboard now, hunched rather prettily across her knees. That he had unfinished business with that wonderfully hot and sexy little body was without question.

“Well it’s like this Shell,” he continued, “Your mom has needs too you know. You should maybe go back to your own bedroom sweetheart, I just forgot you were here ... in the heat of the moment and all.”

She looked almost hurt.

“Can’t I stay dad? I’d really like to see you and mom ... you know!” This time the blush was quite pronounced.

“Sure you can honey,” Tracey put in. “You might learn something from your father, you never know.” As she spoke, she retracted her hands and Shelley’s eyes dropped to her mother’s exposed and even from her perspective – arousingly prominent pussy, framed as it was by that neatly-trimmed light brown triangle of pubic hair. Her own hirsute condition down there she realised, was yet one of unchecked growth, fully au-naturel – unlike many of the girls in her final year. Fully mesmerized by her mother’s sexual vulnerability, she abstractedly dropped a hand to her lap. Simply the intimate palmed contact by way of the front of her panties, inspired a thrill of anticipation through the teenager.

If his wife was hot, Greg was hotter. The thought of his near-naked sixteen-year old daughter perched just an outstretched hand away watching, as he engaged nature’s procreative gears along his wife’s vaginal highway, was the turn-on of all turn-ons.

Certainly Tracey didn’t view the general lack of privacy as any great hindrance. Sprawled inelegantly on her back, her most personal of bodily orifices spectacularly displayed for everyone’s viewing pleasure, the glance she threw her daughter as Greg penetrated her with a zeal hitherto unseen, ran the gamut of emotions from unhinged sexual delight to assured female one-upmanship. Hearing her mother cry out “Fuck me Greg” as she allowed her knees to be spread to the zenith of their muscular limits, set in train Shelley’s own pleasures. With one hand down well inside her own panties, she began fingering the moist and humid terrain, her pupils fully dilated by the parental activity being enacted right before her eyes.

“Good girl, fuck yourself honey,” Tracey gasped as Greg moved up a gear, fully cognizant of the fact that this would probably be the cum-of-the-century. Thrusting-in to his wife with commendable purpose, he pushed aside her thin top, completely exposing her full but still rather delicately shaped breasts. He heard his daughter’s sharp intake of breath as she witnessed her mom’s denuding. Just the sight of Tracey’s breasts jiggling in metronomic time to the pile-driving exploratories of her husband’s drill-bit, caused the teenager to subconsciously reach up with her free hand and manipulate her own engorged nipples.

Groping his wife’s breasts as he turned into the main straight, Greg glanced momentarily at his daughter.

“Look at her Trace,” he muttered breathlessly, “playing with her own tits now.”

The girl blushed and dropped her hand to her lap.

“No, don’t stop doing it sweetheart,” he begged. “That’s really sexy ... make yourself hot, while I finish fucking your mom.”

Embarrassed at being caught-out, she gingerly returned her hand to her right breast and took not a little delight at seeing the effect her wayward fingers were having on both her parents. Together with the selfless digital progress between her own legs, it was all good news!

Traditionally, the biggest firework is always saved till last. So it was on the Richardson’s King-size that night. Unhampered by diplomatic niceties and in the final throes now of sexual passion, Tracey arched her back visibly, willing her partner to penetrate the last vestiges of the crust to set free the magma beneath.

Her mouth dry, one of the few body cavities thus afflicted, Shelley could not wrench her gaze from her mother’s awesomely public defilement.

“God Trace,” Greg uttered as he ploughed the last furrow, unleashing a veritable torrent of procreative material to all four points of her vaginal compass. So caught-up was Shelley in her own self-induced pleasures, all she could do was stare as her father withdrew from the depths of her old home, simply to squat on the bed fully unable to vocalise his thoughts. Tracey for her part, just lay-back staring at her daughter, breathing hard and with both hands clasped between her legs protectively.

It would definitely have been an inopportune moment for the Avon Lady to come a-calling...

“Gosh dad,” Shelley unintentionally broke the silence. “They never taught us anything like that in Biology.” She tried to smile, but somehow it just didn’t seem appropriate. Leaning forward, she retrieved her tiny bra from the end of the bed.

“Don’t get dressed Shell ... well not yet anyway,” Greg managed to enunciate between some majorly irregular breathing exertions. She looked at him in vague curiosity. “Well, what I mean is Shelley,” he added, “It’s not that late and you don’t have school tomorrow anyway, why not just stay up with us for a bit sweetheart?”

“Can I just put my bra back on then dad?” she implored in her best little-girl voice.

“Sure baby,” he replied, book-marking his intent to enjoy to the full, its subsequent removal once more - hopefully in the not too distant future. “Just come and sit with your mom for a while,” he added.

Delicately hooking the tiny front-loading clasps together, she smiled nervously at her father who could not fail to notice how much more pronounced her breasts looked, encased in that flimsy but brilliantly engineered little support capsule. He would be pushing octogenarian status he figured, before he would ever be needing Viagra in commercial quantities.

Snuggling up to her mother, she seemed unconcerned that Tracey was still without her panties, although as she lay back against her mom, quite obviously from the tiny gasp of surprise she let out, fully aware of two adult breasts or more likely, the pair of hard nipples, that suddenly were pressing up against her back.

For a couple of moments, no-one knew quite how to proceed.

“Well, did you enjoy watching me with your mom Shell?” Greg asked, hoping to break the ice somewhat.

“Uh huh,” Shelley half-mumbled, not keen or even able to elaborate further at this point.

“I guess it must have been a little confronting for you sweetiel Gotta tell you though Shell, just knowing you were here watching, turned me on big time. I think your mom would agree.”

“Greg,” she cried out, hugging her daughter to her, “That’s cruel, besides it wasn’t my idea to get naughty with Shelley, c’mon, admit it.”

“Wasn’t your idea she should leave either, as I recall,” he reasoned.

“Seriously Shelley,” he continued, looking directly into those light-blue orbs, “Did you like what we did earlier? You, mom and me all together I mean!”

Severely embarrassed, she just managed a confirmatory nod of her head. How cute were those light brown curls jiggling around her shoulders? He thought to himself.

“Would you like me to show you some other stuff Shell?” he asked, but seeing her wide-eyed expression of trepidation, felt constrained to add, “No ... nothing like that sweetheart ... just other things that will make you feel nice?”

“You got my attention here Greg,” Tracey put in teasingly. Shelley tossed her mother a withering backward glance.

“What kinda things dad?” she asked softly.

“Oh, well that’s for me to show you honey – if your game! “Sliding back across to his side of the bed, he lay full length on the coverlet, his erection temporarily at least, under manual control.

“Come on over here baby, sit on daddy.” He patted his chest.

Looking anything but comfortable, she manoeuvered herself from her mother’s lap and sat herself down side-saddle, on the edge of her father’s top pyjamas.

“Not that way sweetheart,” he chided her, “legs either side of me Shell.” Even now, contact with her warm little bottom like that, was causing the cavalry to re-group.