Chapter 4

Sunday morning. For some reason I woke up horny as a bitch! After Harry's powerhouse pounding I thought I'd never need another dose of sex, but I'd underestimated my pussy's recuperative powers. It itched subtly with longing for more carnality, a longing that no amount of masturbation could satisfy.

It was sunny and fresh outside. The morning air wafted in through my open window and I thought of climbing into Veronica's room for breakfast. I was too comfortable in my own bed, though. It was a real tussle between creature comforts and creature needs, and while the battle raged on in slow motion, my father called out from his room to ask me to pick up the Sunday paper from the porch.

"Okay Daddy." I slipped on a nightie over my nakedness and tripped down the stairs to get the paper for him. On the way up my mother passed me to go to the kitchen and prepare breakfast. Sunday breakfast was a big occasion in our house. She always whipped up large batches of pancakes, bacon, and eggs and when it was all set out on the table along with the coffee, she called us down to join her. Tim came out of his room and went downstairs to help her. He and Mum were very close but he only helped her when he was in an exceptionally generous mood.

My father lay on his side of the bed with the bed-clothes arranged neatly up to his waist. The deep tan he'd acquired in the Virgin Islands some weeks earlier still lingered, and when he sat up to receive the papers I couldn't help but marvel at his physique. His stomach was still flat and hard, greying hairs grew in a small clump in the center of his chest, his shoulders were broad and smooth, and when he reached for the papers his muscles rippled ever so slightly, just enough to indicate his strength. At once my imagination leapt back to the shower incident and filled in the missing details: his narrow hips, the large brown appendage dangling from his belly, the strong thighs. The itch deep inside my pussy was no longer subtle. It was downright crude!

"Come on, lie down next to me a while," said Daddy, patting the bed beside him. "In a few days you'll belong to another man and you'll never be my girl again."

"Don't be silly," I said, moving over toward him and embracing him fondly. "Nothing ever comes between a girl and her father."

"Not even the sheets?" Dad laughed at his own joke and hugged me back. "It's a strange feeling, though," he said soberly. "I keep thinking about when you were little and you'd run into our room every Sunday morning. Do you remember? We used to wrestle and play until we were all tired and we'd have a second sleep, the four of us. And now..." He looked very sad and I decided he needed to be cheered up.

"We can still wrestle," I said, jumping up and straddling his hips to grab hold of both his arms and pin them back. "There's no law saying dads and daughters can't wrestle beyond age five, is there?"

"Only the law of the jungle," said Dad, and he pretended that I was as strong as he. We pushed and pulled at each other, laughing, running out of breath. He could have thrown me off the bed at any time, of course, but he wanted to play. Strange things were happening in my mind as we wrestled. I kept seeing his face in different ways. One moment he was my father, familiar, trusted, second-nature; the next he was a complete stranger, and then he was handsome, strong, sexy! I began to fight harder as if to dispel these switching illusions. He fought harder in return. Our faces were perilously close together. I got the feeling that a kiss was prevented only in the nick of time.

And then something else happened. As one we became aware that the father-daughter relationship was crumbling faster than either of us could handle. There was a reason for this: my nightie had slipped up over the tops of my thighs so that my pussy was showing; and, worse, my cunt was hard against his cock. Daddy's cock was as hard as it had been the other day and it lay back so that the groove of my cunt fitted over it neatly. We stopped wrestling and for a moment our eyes met with a question. I wanted to stop. Panic seized me. It was bad enough that I was fucking my own brother but now my father? What could be next, my mother?

A tremor ran through me and that thought was blocked out at once. We sat frozen in our position. His cock throbbed against my naked cunt and I realized that I couldn't pull away. I had to have more of him even if that only meant contact without penetration. What was Daddy thinking? It was impossible to tell. Without thinking any further I started to slide back and forth over his cock, pushing down a bit harder so that my cunt would open up to him. It was up to him to say no now, but he didn't. He half closed his eyes and held me around my waist. He didn't mind!

A thrill surged up from my belly. Now that he'd approved I could face that one of my most intimate fantasies was in the process of being realized. That thick hard cock slithered along the inner flesh and chafed at my clitoris deliciously. How different it was! My father's cock, the one that had given me life, was mine for the moment. Mother was in the kitchen, brother was too, and here were Daddy and I doing what was taboo!

Neither of us said a word. The only sound was that of our heavy breathing. It wasn't easy to keep my pussy moving regularly and in a straight line but if I wanted to satisfy him that's what I would have to do. The idea of his satisfying me didn't even occur to me. I only wanted to make him happy. And, to judge by the expression on his face, I was doing a good job of it. His eyes were still partly open but I couldn't see them through his eyelashes. I figured he was probably gazing at my tits, bouncing up and down stiffly under my nightie. In a moment's boldness I took the garment off and flung it away from me so he could enjoy my body in full. At once he reached out with one hand and caressed my tits, slowly, ever so slowly, as if he was trying to recapture something. I remembered Uncle Eddie telling me how much I resembled my mother at that age. Was that what was going through Dad's mind? I felt hurt by that idea. Couldn't he love me for myself? I wanted him to. I would break through his fantasies and establish myself!

I moved back off his cock and continued to back up until my mouth was hovering over his erect cock. Dad's hands made to pull me back but they didn't try too hard. Nestled between his legs, my hair falling over my face, my body hidden for the most part, I could be anyone at all. And that's what I wanted him to see, just a woman taking his cock into her mouth for the best blow job he'd ever had. At first I felt an amateur's lack of confidence. Could I really do this much cock justice? But then the heavy glans rested against my pursed lips and I opened my mouth wide to admit it, and from there on it came to me naturally.

I took it nice and easy. Dad had consented this time around but would he ever let me take such liberties with him again? I had to make the best of this blow job to drink in all I could get of him. Slowly my tongue moved along the warm rubbery surface of his knob, round and round until he was wet all over. Then, opening my lips just enough to take in the tip of his knob, I pushed my head down over him hard to make his cock penetrate me forcibly. It was a delicious sensation to feel him sliding down my mouth, my throat, his cock so thick, powerful, pulsing with life. Dad didn't move and that was the way I liked it. This left me to do all the work. I caressed his ball bag with the tips of my fingers, sucked on his glans for a few minutes, then abandoned it to go down on his balls and suck them in. His body was rigid but it wasn't because he was holding back. Tremors made him shaky, thrilling like a taut wire that's been struck, and when I suddenly took his whole cock into my mouth I thought he was going to erupt for sure. But no, Dad was an experienced married man; he knew how to hold back. And I let him recover his poise because I was far from satisfied.

After that brief, suspenseful interval I continued to work his cock over with tongue, lips, and teeth. I suckled it in my warm spit, bit into it ever so finely, I licked it from head to toe, loving it passionately. And Dad just lay there. I could tell he was as happy as I was but he didn't know how to show it. Even though we were naked and making love, we were still shy toward each other. Well, all the more time in which to suck, I thought and plied his long stem with the best my tongue could muster. From downstairs came the faint sounds of rattling cutlery and the slam of an oven door. Mum was keeping the first batch of pancakes warm. Her smug domesticity accentuated the raw sexuality of what Daddy and I were doing. His cock poked down my throat as his hairy loins moved restlessly under the stress of his excitement. His hands were on my head to hold me down and I wanted him to push harder so his cock would be lodged down my gullet for keeps. I was greedy, hungry, horny, and the more cock I could get the more my body came alive. Then his hands began to pull at me. I peered through the curtain of hair to see what was on his mind, and noticed that he was moving over to his side and reaching to bring me over toward him. "Oh Daddy!" I cried without taking his cock out of my mouth. I shuffled over at once and presented my runny cunt to his mouth. This was an unexpected bonus!

Things became a little hazy after that. I sucked his dick and he ate out my pussy and it felt as though the two of us were entwined and rolling about in a maelstrom of ecstasy. The details were lost, all I knew was that my cunt was on fire and Daddy was pouring oil on it. On occasions I felt a twinge of fear as I thought of Mum coming in and discovering us in this compromising position. But at the same time the fear fed the fires and I attacked his cock with all the more verve so that she would see what a woman her little girl had grown into.

Daddy stopped eating me when he neared his peak. He pushed me away and I devoted all of my attention to his dick. I had my ass toward his face, my knees at either side of his waist, and when I took all of him into my mouth my nose brushed along his balls. His hands feebly caressed my pussy but most of his attention was fixed on what my mouth was doing to his cock. He seemed to be expanding, growing harder, so much so that I could hardly contain all of his masculinity. A little more and his prize would be mine! I sucked his knob and jerked his stalk, tickled his balls and even caressed his asshole with one finger. Not long now. I could hardly wait! Please, don't let anyone interrupt! I prayed. The first droplets shot out, whetting my taste buds and bringing down more saliva. And then, just as my teeth sank playfully into that smooth band of skin below the awning of flesh, a burst of sperm blurted from his straining cock, a burst so voluminous that it filled my mouth in an instant. It cost me all the self-control I had not to cough and splutter! More followed before I could swallow properly. Daddy was twisting about, hoisting his loins to loft his sperm deep down my throat, and I struggled to put away each load before the next one arrived. Hell, how long had it been since he'd fucked Mum? He just wouldn't stop! One wave after another, salty-whey, creamy-smooth, rolling down my throat so easily that I didn't have to swallow anymore once I'd caught up. And from there on it was a matter of holding his cock between my lips and letting him transfer his cream to me.

Downstairs Mum and Tim were setting the table and talking about something. The smell of coffee and cakes wafted up. I rolled off my father and lay on my side, holding his cock in my mouth so I could enjoy its final act. The hardness gave way to a soft quality, turning his cock from a weapon into a toy. It shriveled up and rested in my mouth docile, as a lamb. I wanted to stay there forever within the aura of his strong masculine smell, just suckling his cock and stroking his balls and his belly. But suddenly he pushed me away and told me to put on my nightie. "Time for breakfast," he said, his eyes elsewhere. "Let's not keep your mother waiting. And brush your teeth before you go down."

"Alright Daddy." He was so brusque. What had I done wrong? I tried to find the answer on his face but he wouldn't look at me. Hurriedly he put on his pants and shirt, slipped into a pair of sneakers and went downstairs. I brushed my teeth and dressed, and when I joined the rest of the family I found Dad standing close to Mum by the stove. He was flirting with her, patting her ass and whispering things into her ear, the kind of act he put on when he was in really good spirits. Mum loved it, of course. She got all coy and silly when he came on to her like a horny boy. I figured he was trying to tell me something rather than her, but I couldn't help feeling jealous.

We sat down to eat, Mum and Dad sitting right near each other, Tim drawing his chair close to mine. Dad paid no attention to me at all, and Tim did the opposite. He couldn't stop engaging me in conversation, and in the meantime his hand searched for mine under the table. I withdrew irritably. Nothing appealed to me, not Tim, not the oriental Veronica had lined up for me in the afternoon; only Daddy had the vibrations that brought life to my pussy, my nipples, my belly; and Daddy was taken.

I was in two minds about whether to go to Veronica's place or not. What the hell, I'd had my share for the day. She could handle him all by herself, anyway. But while I thought about it I bathed, groomed myself, and since I'd done all that I figured it would be a waste not to go. I went by way of the sidewalk this time and rang the doorbell just like a real guest. Veronica's younger brother, Ned, answered the door.

"Hi Jackie, how have you been?" he said brightly. Ned liked me. He was a nice kid, I thought as I made my way up the stairs. Sixteen, frisky, eager, and very good-looking, he seemed ready to make his debut into the world of sex. At least, whenever he saw me he became very agitated and I knew that that was a sign of confused lust. He wanted me but didn't have the slightest idea of how to go about it. Well, his sister would teach him one day. I walked into Veronica's room and wished it was all over already.

She was alone, sitting on her bed against a mound of pillows and reading a heavy book. As usual she had on casuals: cut-off jeans, halter top, nothing on her feet, and her hair never needed combing. Just like a boy, I thought. "Well, where's the stud of the week?" I said, throwing myself down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling moodily.

"He's a little late," she said. Her mood wasn't so great either and I asked her why. "Oh, it's Ned, the little fuck won't leave the house, I offered him a couple of dollars to go see a movie but he's so stubborn! Hell, what are we going to do with him around? He's always nosing about in other people's business." She threw down the book and paced up and down in her room, frowning angrily. "Little brothers are a pain in the ass!" she muttered.

"He's got a right to stay home," I defended him, "and anyway, if we lock the door what can he see?"

"What can't he hear? Besides, he could climb up on the tree and get a grandstand view. Hey Ned!" she yelled suddenly, heading for the bedroom door. "I'm giving you five seconds to get out of the house. If you're not gone by then I'll beat your brains out!"

"Try it," he answered from below. He had a point. A year ago Veronica could have done it but Ned had grown up rapidly. She knew it, too.

"Perhaps we should call Michael up and tell him not to bother," she said

"Michael?"

"Michael Wong," she explained.

"Perhaps you should. Listen, Veronica, I've had enough. There are only a couple of days left before the wedding and there isn't much more that you can show me. So why don't we just forget it and take a break."

"You think you know it all, huh? Well, maybe you do. Why should I give a damn? Okay, go home." She was really mad and I wanted to make it up with her before I left. After all, she had put herself out for my sake. But just as I was about to console her the bell rang. Ned opened the door for whoever it was, and a little later an oriental man poked his head around the bedroom door.

"Veronica? Hi, sorry to be late. You must be Jackie. You are as beautiful as your cousin said you were." I liked the look of him right away. He was tall and well-built, in a lean way. The short sleeves of his shirt showed a pair of arms that were slender but strong, with thick veins running down the upper arm. He wore his hair long and had a thin moustache, which somehow made him look mysterious and very masculine at the same time. Broad- shouldered, alert, handsome, he dispelled our bad moods in a second and had us chatting with him as if we'd known each other for years. Ned kept peeking around the doorway, though, and that threatened to upset Veronica all over again.