Chapter 3

Bobby only stayed one week. He explained that he got thirty days of leave a year, and was saving the last week for when she had the baby.

Again, I didn’t attempt to pry or spy, but I couldn’t help but notice that they spent a lot of time in either his bedroom or hers. I just tried to throw myself into my work. There were frequent stops for self abuse, but that was becoming pretty routine too.

As I look back on it I’m more and more convinced that it was that one brief moment when Bobby was first sucking one of her nipples, and her eyes met mine, that brought about another fundamental change in my relationship with Chrissy. She never explained what that mouthed “sorry” meant. It could have meant she was sorry that I had to see it. It might have been that she was sorry they were doing it in ‘public.’ Only later would I think it might have signaled that she understood that I had sexual needs that were unmet, and that watching her like that might have exacerbated them.

At any rate, as I was to find out later, when Bobby left this time Chrissy was a woman who had enjoyed the delights of lovemaking enough that she had developed a taste for it. In fact, it would be more nearly correct to say she now had a hunger for it. And her lover was fifteen hundred miles away. Just as important, having broken the taboo with one man in the family, she saw no reason to honor the taboo with the other man she loved.

This time the change in our relationship was signaled when we were watching TV. Again, she was lying down, using me for a pillow.

“Daddy?” she said.

“Hmmm?”

“Would you put lotion on my belly?”

I balked a bit, and she promptly reminded me that I had said we were in this together. She tossed in that she needed a Lamaze coach, and that I had been elected to that position. She seemed to think that having me rub lotion on her stomach was part of that deal.

And, of course, I went along with it.

We went to classes, where neither the trainer or the other women thought it was the least bit odd that Chrissy’s father was going to be her coach. I guess the instructor had seen it all before, and the other pregnant women simply understood how important it was to have a coach, no matter who it was.

Within two weeks, having my hands on her in what I had known would be an amazingly intimate way, was just the norm. I put lotion on her belly every night while we watched TV.

While it may have been normal, it still affected me. I don’t know for a fact that she felt my prick stir under her head, but I don’t see any way she could have missed it. She pretty much gave up putting a pillow on my lap, saying it bent her neck uncomfortably, and I pretty much gave up the idea of putting something between her soft hair and my hard prick. Maybe I was already lost by then.

Then, one night, while I rubbed a slippery hand across her wide abdomen and stomach, she reminded me about one of the subjects in class where the women were told about preparing the nipples for nursing. That involved making sure they were well moisturized and pliable so that they wouldn’t dry out and crack when she began breast feeding.

Which may be responsible for the fact that I found myself working lotion into both of her nipples too. I don’t know why I didn’t think of the fact that she could do that part herself. Like I said, I may already have been lost by then. We were still lying there, as if we were watching TV. The TV was on, but again, I have no recollection of what was showing.

I rubbed her breasts for what seemed like hours. Her dark brown nipples strained upwards, protruding from wide areolas almost an inch. The sounds that her throat produced were almost like the purring of a satisfied cat as I squeezed and pulled at those lusty nubs. At one point she labored to sit up, removed her shirt and bra, and laid back down like it was the most normal thing in the world for a pregnant daughter to lie half-naked on her father’s lap. Neither of us said a word. I just kept stroking her breasts and playing with nipples that, rather than feeling like pliable flesh, seemed more like they were in the gum eraser family. She writhed on my lap, as if she were having trouble finding a comfortable position to be in.

The next night, when I turned on the TV she just handed me the lotion and then took her shirt and bra off. That became our new routine each night.

A week later, while my fingers toyed with a long, rubbery nipple, she sighed.

“You remember that web site I told you about?” she asked. “The one where there’s a chat room for expectant mothers?”

“Hmmmmm,” I responded, not really paying attention. She was always informing me of something she had learned on the net or from a book.

“Several of the women were talking about how it’s a good idea for someone to suck on a pregnant woman’s nipples,” she said.

Quite suddenly I was paying attention.

“They say it helps the nipples get prepared for nursing,” she added.

“Oh,” I said weakly.

“I want them to be ready for the baby, Daddy,” she said, looking up at me. “But I need somebody to suck them for me.

I had no idea if the advice she’d gotten on that site was true or not, but I didn’t care. I must shamefully admit that I was only too willing to take on that task. We rearranged ourselves on the couch, with her swollen belly pressing against my solar plexus, and those luscious, full breasts right in front of my face.

I think we both groaned when I first took a nipple in my mouth and sucked gently. I also think there were a few minutes when I somehow went back in time, because the next thing I knew I was sucking one, and then the other with the enthusiasm of a starving baby. Her whines made it clear that it was just as delightful for her as it was for me.

“Oh Daddy,” she moaned “That makes me so horny, but don’t stop, please.”

I realized her hand was in the sweat pants she favored because they were stretchy and loose. I ignored the hand, and what it was most likely doing, and simply kept suckling one fat, turgid nipple, and then the other.

A few minutes later her groan signaled something, but I couldn’t tell what. It seemed a mixture of passion and frustration.

“I can’t reach, Daddy,” she moaned. “My belly is too big.”

I let an astonishingly elongated nipple slip from between my lips. “Oh baby,” I sighed.

“Help me, Daddy,” she whined.

I had passed “Go” long before. I hadn’t collected two hundred dollars, and was well on my way to jail if anyone ever found out what was going on between us, not to mention what had gone on between Chrissy and Bobby, which I had not stopped. The thought of ‘helping’ her just didn’t seem like that huge of a step.

I know you hate it that the good part is being interrupted here, but I have to say something in my defense. I know a lot of you think that this was all perverted in some way. For sure I had never planned on satisfying my own daughter sexually, because I would have sworn that was perverted too. But this was different somehow. Maybe it was the slow way things progressed, that allowed my formerly conservative mind to adapt and accept things that I had always assumed were wrong.

But the fact was that I loved her, and I loved giving her pleasure. It seemed like such a little thing ... to rub here ... to stroke there ... to hear what was undeniably sounds of joy issue from her lips.

What I’m saying is that it snuck up on me, somehow, and it didn’t feel wrong at all! It just felt like love.

Her first orgasm, as my fingers frantically massaged flesh I had only caught glimpses of before, was probably as good for me as it was for her. It seemed like the sensations coming from my lips, still sucking her nipples, were given voice in her throat. Knowing that I was responsible for her cries of joy was electrifying. I didn’t cum in my pants or anything like that. In a way it was better than that. When she moaned, “I love you, Daddy,” I was quite sure nothing would ever make me feel so wonderful as those few words.

I was wrong, of course.

After that first orgasm, she sagged on me, slowly catching her breath, relaxing more and more until I realized she had fallen asleep, splayed half naked on me like I was her bed. I had an almost painful erection, but I didn’t want to disturb her. What made us move was that, being topless, she got cold. I wanted to carry her to bed, but that was ridiculous. Instead, I helped her to her feet where, rather than put her top back on, she sought warmth in my arms.

That our steps took us to my bedroom, instead of hers, shouldn’t have surprised me. Neither of us wanted to abandon this warm closeness, and I had a bigger bed. That she had me take off her sweat pants didn’t surprise me either. Any thought of being modest around me had flown away as she writhed in orgasm under my lips and fingers.

I went to the bathroom where, within the space of a minute or less, my stroking hand coaxed spurts of hot semen from my prick. I felt almost light headed knowing there was a beautiful naked woman waiting for me in my bed, and that may have contributed to the speed with which my balls gave up their cargo. I was still dribbling just a little as I ran and crawled quickly under covers, pressing against her warm body from behind her, my hand resting on my grandson’s gestation chamber.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she sighed.

I wasn’t sure whether she was talking about the orgasm I’d given her, or that she was in my bed.

But then ... it didn’t really matter which it was.

As had happened in the past, the escalation of our sexual behavior towards each other was permanent. Within a week, when she joined me on the couch, I got a kiss on the lips, after which hazel eyes stared into mine and pink lips whispered, “I’m ready for my orgasm, Daddy.”

She favored lying down facing me, where her swollen breasts were right in front of my face and my left hand had easy access to her pussy. If I wasn’t sucking her nipples while I diddled her, she kissed me. Her lips seemed to be searching for something to eat, nipping at my own lips, or at my chin, her tongue flicking out to lick at whatever she could reach.

Then one night she said that getting up afterwards was undoing all the relaxation that came in the aftermath of her orgasm, and we moved my ‘massage’ to the bedroom, where she could just fall asleep afterwards. She lay on her back with me beside her. First there was the lotion on her belly. “Junior,” which I had taken to calling the unborn tyke, seemed to like the belly rubs too, because he always got more active when I did that. I usually started sucking her nipples while I was spreading the lotion and eventually I’d just slide my oily hand lower to find and torture her clitty. Within a five minutes she’d arch and groan and thank me and tell me how much she loved me.

On this night, though, as I was still in the nipple sucking phase, her hand fell against my boner. It had developed - and I’m still not sure how - that when we got into bed no clothing was required for either of us. Maybe it had something to do with the luscious warmth of skin to skin contact. I’d always had boners when this happened, but she’d never seemed to notice. Even when we spooned and my rigid prick pressed into her firm butt, she’d never said anything.

“Poor daddy,” she sighed. “You take such good care of me ... but nobody takes care of you.” Her hand gripped my rigid penis gently.

“It’s OK,” I said, my words slightly muffled by the fact that my lips were pressed to a big, round areola.

“No it’s not,” she said. “Besides, I need more than just your fingers.”

That got my attention.

“Help me up,” she said.

“Honey,” I said in a daze. “We can’t do that, baby.” Touching her was one thing. What it sounded like she was proposing was completely different.

“Why not?” she asked. “It’s not like you can get me pregnant.” She smiled at her little joke.

“We just can’t,” I said, helplessly. Her hand on my cock felt so good.

“Yes we can,” she said. She was already breathing heavily in anticipation, and her eyes were glittering. “Now help me up.”

I didn’t, but she struggled up anyway, reaching with her free hand to pull on my elbow. Once moving she kept going, letting go of my prick and throwing a leg over me, moving to sit on my thighs as she rolled me onto my back. Her belly pressed against my cock and she shook her hair back, reaching to pull it behind her head as she looked down. Her breasts pulled apart, the nipples looking a little like google eyes.

“I can’t see,” she complained. Her hand reached and found my prick again. “You’ll have to help. I need something hard inside me, daddy.”

I caved like a cheap paper bag. Her effect on me was stronger than my own sensibilities. I reached and she raised, using her thighs and her hands on my chest. I stood my prick up and stared at her pussy lips, which were engorged and gaping apart. Notching the tip there almost made me cum right then.

That ejaculation was delayed only by the time it took her to sink down on my cock and sigh, “Oh yeaaaaah.” She smiled as I bathed her pregnant pussy with my semen and then giggled. “You’re even quicker than Bobby.”

“Oh fuck,” I groaned as my balls found release sweeter than anything I could remember. Her swollen breasts were right there and I pulled her down, lifting my head to suckle as she began rubbing her pussy lips forward and back.

“That’s good, Daddy,” she moaned. “Just a little bit more.”

Her own release came before I was completely soft, and her whine brought life back to my prick as a surge of emotion ripped through me. It was stronger than the orgasm I’d just had. Her belly was rubbing mine and the rippling clasp of her pussy seemed to suck strength back into my penis.

“Oh my,” she sighed. “You get hard again quicker than Bobby too!”

Once over the precipice, the fall cannot be suspended. I had no parachute to slow my plummet. There was another aspect of all this that speeded up my descent, if anything. Her eyes opened wide and stared into mine. “It’s going to happen again, Daddy!”

It turned out that she wasn’t aware, at least not on a personal level, that she could have multiple orgasms. Like most inexperienced lovers, she and Bobby had always stopped after their first orgasm. Now, though, as she became intimately aware that she could have another one, her movements got jerky as she tried hard to reach it.