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#Abuse #Incest #Mature #Teen
By Kiarra
“Dad?” “Yes, hon?” “Why don’t you ever fuck me?” Stunned, I yanked my face from the newspaper. “Uh, Lori, we don’t use that language,” I said, evading the question. “You didn’t answer me. Why haven’t you f– um, made love to me? I’ve seen you with my friends, and they love it so much. What’s wrong with me?” I knew I’d hear that someday. “Well,” I started, trying to find the right words, “you’re my daughter. You trust me, and you have to be ABLE to trust me. I really believe I’d be violating your trust if I tried to take advantage of it.” “But why not me? My friends trust you, too.” “I know, but…” I hesitated. “They all… they pretty much learned about sex the wrong way and, I guess, they wanted something better. I didn’t– well, that’s not true, I wanted them to make me feel good, too, and I didn’t think it was right for me to feel that way about you.” By now, Lori was 14 and the most beautiful girl on the planet. Of course, that’s her father talking, but I mean every word of it.
An early bloomer in certain aspects of her development — her hips began a womanly curve at young age — she’s finally getting breasts, only now as developed as, say, Kailyn was at fifteen. (Takes after her mother, I guess; but, then again, I never liked more than a mouthful anyway.) Without a doubt, I had a little stunner. I backed away from the table and let her crawl into my lap. “Maybe,” I finished, “I was just waiting for you to say it was what YOU wanted.” As serious and as sensual as an eleven-year-old can be, Lori looked me straight in the eyes and said, “I want you to make love to me.” ~~ I will never forget the look in Lori’s eyes as I set her gently from my arms onto the bed: It was the same look her mother gave me 14 years ago at our wedding. A sharp pang of guilt hit me at that moment. It was not an easy thing to ignore. Kissing my daughter was something I’d done thousands of times, but I hesitated. The question was not whether Lori was ready for this; rather, was I ready? As if reading my mind, Lori brushed my face with her hand and said, “It’s okay, Dad. Really. Please?” The wall now broken, I smiled, and leaned in to kiss my own offspring in a way most fathers never get to enjoy.
Soft lips made slight contact, caressing mine in prelude to the sheer passion still ahead. I kissed first her upper lip, then the lower one, swimming in the contact. Lori let me take the lead, responding in like fashion to every touch, every brush, every squeeze of two lips. My tongue soon begged in, applying a gentle coat of moisture, and she simply lay back and sighed. Pressing my lips again against my daughter’s, I felt her tongue greet mine in a soft, loving interplay, like a dance improvised as it went. Lori’s mouth was hot, and her passion grew as my hand swept softly across her cheek to her neck, to her shoulder, to the buttons of her blouse. She’d not worn her sports bra today, thank goodness, and I could feel the heat of bare skin under my hand as the last button gave way to my nimble fingers. Instinctively, her head sank deeper into the pillow as I kissed Lori’s neck, nibbling slightly at each earlobe before tracing a line down the center of her chest. Her opened blouse still covered her tiny breasts, and I brushed away the material on one side with gentle kisses, my lips finally landing on an already-hard nipple.
Lori gasped out loud as my tongue introduced itself, flicking and rolling its way around the little nub before I took it full into my mouth and sucked, gently. “Oh, Dad, yeah,” came her voice like a slight breeze. Her other nipple reacted much the same way, but Lori herself was much more turned on. Eight young fingers curled up in my hair, pulling painfully as I explored her young tit with my mouth. It had been a while since I’d felt a tugging quite like that. For a moment, I wondered if my head would survive what I had planned next. Working the drawstring on her shorts as I kissed her ribs and tummy, I was able to slip off her last bits of clothing just as I arrived at her hairless treasure.
Lori jumped involuntarily as my lips made contact with her bare juicy vulva, and especially when they found her young clit. My tongue began much lower, at the still- pink vaginal opening at the base of her slit. Tasting her teenage juices for the first time, I marveled at the faint sweetness. Ah, yes, “forbidden fruit,” I reminded myself. Slowly, so slowly, I worked Lori toward a peak she’d never climbed, while trying to keep her from going over the edge. I didn’t want her muscles so contracted from orgasm that she couldn’t go all the way. “Da-a-a-a-a-ad!” she protested when I stopped. “I know, baby, but I can’t make love to you if you’re tense, you have to be relaxed,” I soothed, and her head found the pillow again. Wetting a finger with my saliva, I pushed it gently into her love canal, only to find her hymen a few seconds later. “Ow.” “Sorry,” I responded. “Hon, we can do this two ways: Either I can take your virginity with my finger and slowly stretch your little pussy, or I can just try to push past it with my penis. “That’ll hurt,” I finished. “Maybe a lot.” “I don’t care, I want you inside me.” Always the trooper…
Climbing up to my knees, I positioned the tip of my cock to her opening and pushed gently, only to feel no give whatsoever. “Stay here,” I said, as I arose to find the lubricant. Seconds later, I was trying again, and the head quickly popped inside to Lori’s obvious discomfort. Tears welled up in her young eyes, but I heard no complaints. Pushing slightly farther in, I heard Lori whimper. “I can’t do it, Dad, take it out!” My daughter was clearly frustrated. “Why could my friends do it when they were younger than me, but I can’t?” she asked. Not all of them could, actually, but that was irrelevant. “Because,” I helped, “they already had done it by the time they came to me. Sometimes they hurt even worse the first time than you do now.” “Can you try it with your fingers?” I smiled. “Sure, baby.” I lay back down and rested my head on her leg. Rubbing lubricant onto my fingers, I gently slid one inside Lori’s hole. It came to rest at her maidenhead, and I heard my daughter grunt just a bit. Probing gently, I searched for a tear or imperfection in the membrane, hoping for something to exploit for Lori’s sake. Presently, I found it, and tried to worm my fingertip through.
“G’ow, Dad, that hurrrrts,” Lori complained. “I know,” I soothed, “I’m trying to be as gentle as I can.” “I know,” she said, somewhat returning the favor. The tear in her hymen finally gave way, and I heard a slight “Oof,” but my finger was inside, and Lori didn’t seem too distressed. Slowly, I worked my finger in and out until soft moans came from my daughter, and I pumped a bit more rapidly. Pulling almost all the way out, I put a second finger to her entrance and pushed gently. Giving my fourteen-year-old only about an inch at a time, I worked in and out a bit until both fingers were buried. It must have taken half an hour, but Lori was ready, and I told her so. “Oh, God, do it,” she breathed. I had to choke down my laughter, lest she be insulted. How old are you? On my knees again, I guided my again-throbbing penis back to her vaginal opening and slipped the head inside with no difficulty. Pouring on a little extra KY, I kept a slow but steady pace of entering her a fraction of an inch, then pulling out slightly, then pushing in a bit more. Lori and I stared into each other’s souls through our eyes the entire time, and she never showed any pain again. Indeed, when I hit bottom, her face virtually exploded with joy. We kissed, hard, swapping tongues as her young juices mingled with the lubricant, making her just-initiated sex even more slippery. Like animals in heat, we picked up the pace, obscene slapping sounds filling the room.
I tried to warn Lori that I was about to come, but I couldn’t find my voice. Instead, I moved my hands to her face, each caressing a soft cheek, and I kissed first her forehead, then her nose, and finally a gentle peck on the lips. My back arched upward even as her fingernails won their tug-of-war with its muscles. Lori’s hips matched mine thrust for thrust, as if made for each other. My daughter and I exploded together in a fireball of sensations, their tendrils dancing inside my eyelids, shooting stars that refused to die until the Grand Finale had its way. Somehow, I managed to fall to one side as I collapsed, so I wouldn’t smother Lori under my dead weight. How much time passed ’til we woke up, I have no idea. I love you, Lori. ~~ Yes, Lori’s friends were toys; I’ll admit it, even if I truly did care for them.
Until now, the last I’d known true lovemaking — seemingly years ago — was with Lori’s mother. Just like that, I knew it again; this time, with the forbidden fruit of her labor. It was, ironically, the last time I was able to touch my daughter.
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By Kiarra
#Abuse #Incest #Mature #Teen
