Incest and Christmas (all 4 Chapters)

Elza Kanzaki

Pitohui
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Argentina
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Bisexual
Moved all 4 parts to a topic due to the closing of the Blogs Area

Warning: Incest. 

It's Christmas. Well, Christmas Eve. And Christi's back. It's been five years since my baby has been home. Five years since I last saw her or heard her voice. She's the best present a father could ask for. 

Christi was a woman now, one I had hardly recognized at the door. I remembered her at just 18, and long before that, as my precious angel and bestest bud. And my wife, Christi's mother Priscilla, hated us both for it. Or so it felt.

Now Christi had been married and divorced before she hit 23. She'd divorced him while he was in prison, and decided to move out of state before he got out. Just to be safe. When she applied for a job in the new town, a background check had hit on one of the many queries and searches I'd launched after I'd found out what my wife had done, how she had schemed to chase our girl away.

Christi had contacted the agency involved and was given my number. The agent immediately called me with the news, since a successful 'find' meant a sizable bounty for him. 

My only daughter had called me before the agent could end the quick call. My baby couldn't wait. I had to smile now, just thinking about it. 

That was two days ago; she arrived last night. Looking radiant with light highlights running through long brown hair. Looking like a woman, with curves and a wisdom to her eyes that were not part of my memories of her.

Priscilla, in a rare showing, left her downstairs suite. We did not speak after her betrayal of the family, but I had emailed her to let her know the news. After five years, she took one look at her daughter and said, "Well, I can see you're making progress. You left here looking like a whore, and now you only look like tramp. Stay upstairs during what I hope will be a short stay."

The bitch spun on her heel and left as I yelled "Priscilla!"

I was horrified watching the look of pain stricken the face of this beautiful woman, a stranger, who instantly transformed into my baby Christi, again devastated by the one woman she should be able to count on for love and support.

"Christi, baby, your mother's sick. It's not true. Come here."

I wrapped my little girl in her father's arms for the first time in five years. At first she just stood there stiffly, stunned by her greeting. She was tall, so when she spoke it was just below my ear. She giggled first, which sounded kind of uncomfortable. I couldn't blame her.

"What's not?" Her voice was so so I could hardly hear it.

"Hmm?" I asked, glad to get any reaction out of her. I pulled her a little closer and felt relief pass down my spine when I felt her arms snake around me, burying her face deeper. Then she pulled back enough to look at me.

"What's not?" I must have looked puzzled because she continued. "You said 'It's not true' so I asked 'what's not true?'"

"Whatever your mom said, honey." I paused trying to remember what she'd actually said. "Every hurtful thing she has ever said to to you. Any thing she told you the day you left."

"I didn't leave. She kicked me out. She said you'd call the cops on me if I ever came back. She said you...couldn't even look at me you were so disappointed."

Tears had started down her face as she began to speak. She was close to blubbering as she finished. I didn't realize I was crying until she reached up to wipe my cheek as I shook my head in angry disagreement.

"Christi, sweetheart, listen. You have never ever been a disappointment to me. Priscilla lied to me too. She had me drive to Cleveland because you had OD'ed and were in the hospital. It was midnight by the time I got home and you were long gone by then. You have no idea how hard I looked for you."

"Daddy." Was all she whispered before she wrapped me tight. The sobbing really began.

She had slept in, then told me she was meeting a couple old friends for lunch and a movie. She would be back for dinner early. I had let her know I was golfing so I'd be out most of the day too.

Shortly after she left, I got the call. No golf. We couldn't get a tee time before mid-afternoon. Seems a lot of people had Christmas Eve off and wanted to take advantage of the great warm weather. So I stayed home. I thought about fixing Christi's room up, but figured I'd better include her in the plans. I hoped she'd stay, but her mother had not been welcoming.

It sounded like I had some alone time. Something I had had way too much of the last few years. I decided to roll a pinner for later, before my hands were wet. Take a spin on the stationary bike after doing my usual light weights, then soak in the spa for a while.

-----

On the bike I had time to think.

I had so much to be ashamed of. I let Priscilla berate and degrade Christi. I let her let Christi go. And I stayed with the bitch. I was weak and didn't stand up for our daughter or myself.

I remembered the anger and helplessness I felt when I found out Priscilla had tricked me, lied to me, and torn apart our family. I felt disgust at the way I had shoved my feelings down, and tried to pretend things were okay. 

That lasted one week. Priscilla and I had gone out to dinner downtown, and someone asked about Christi. My daughter's mother and tormentor, cool as a cucumber, lied up a storm about her running off with a college senior because her hormones were thinking for her.

As soon as we walked off, I grabbed her and pulled the lying bitch into an alley. I don't know when I have ever been that pissed. 

I almost choked her, I squeezed her throat so hard with both hands. "Don't you ever let me hear you lie about our daughter again, do you understand?"

I released her throat with one hand and used it to grab a handful of her hair and pull, to force her to look me in the eyes. It didn't have the effect I intended.

When I cranked her head up to look at me, her eyes were dilated and bright. Her mouth hung open. Her head was pinned against an dirty brick wall outside a restaurant's alley access by a hand squeezing her throat, she had a violently angry man's fist knotted in her hair, and she was turned on.

I hadn't seen it in a long time, but this was my wife. I had made her cum with my mouth and hands and finally, my cock, before we married. Our sex life had fallen by the wayside after Christi was born, but I knew when Priscilla was aroused. And she was very aroused.

The way I pulled her hair down the brick wall was intended to force her face upwards. It also made her arch her back. Not enough that she was forced to grind against me, but enough that she might grind a little extra against me and get away with it as though forced.

I could feel how excited she was and knew what her body was doing. I shoved my body against her suddenly, pinning her whole body against the bricks, making her catch her breath. It had been a long, long time since I had turned her on by dominating her. Since we married, I think. 

As a kid, I didn't have any idea what I was doing, but more than once when we were dating, wrestling or tickling each other, I would just overpower her to get the upper hand and it had instantly aroused her. At the time, I didn't think the connection through, I just dove in whenever sex was offered up. By the time I had connected my aggressiveness with her arousal, sex was a rare enough commodity that I didn't do anything that might make it rarer.

The angry alpha was making her soak her panties now though.

I pushed myself harder against her, pressing her against the bricks while my hand squeezed her throat. My teeth were bared and a fraction of an inch from her face. My eyes locked on hers. Seemingly an incidental part of my shoving against her in anger, my right leg came up between her two thinner ones, pinning her further.

I pulled her hair tighter. She arched again with a little whine and that specific parting of her lips, a soundless gasp, that I always recognized as Priscilla in heat.

When she arched, her breasts pressed up against my chest. Where before her hips pushed up against mine, now her most sensitive region pressed firmly and distinctly into the hard muscle of my thigh, just above the knee.

She groaned, not expecting so much contact so immediately. I had been expecting it and used my thigh to massage her groin. I saw open hunger on her face. Sexual hunger she hadn't shown in many years.

Keeping grinding up into her with my raised leg, I release my grip on her throat and hair. She gasped, then almost immediately lunged for me, kissing me frantically.

She wasn't wearing a bra under the thick knit dress. Priscilla rarely did; she had tiny nipples on very firm but small breasts. In clothes, it gave her a sexy natural appearance, but not one that screamed 'no bra!' Only something very thin and clingy or wet, like an unpadded swimsuit, would let her nipples clearly show, even when they hardened to tiny, very sensitive nubs.

My hands found the firm palmfuls and squeezed, my thumbs pressing hard against the nubbins. I felt her body squirm under my hands. I was still angry, but now aroused too. I had always thought Priscilla was extremely sexy, especially when she let herself get a little wild. Now it had been so long I had almost forgotten what she could be like.

Her lithe body couldn't hold still against me. Nor her tongue in my mouth and on my lips, jaw, neck. I felt her hips start to hump faster on my leg. Could it be?

When we were young horny teens she would occasionally cum from dry humping my leg or cock. Never after we married. Until now. And that pissed me off.

My cock was completely hard. A beautiful petite woman was about to orgasm in my arms, and I fucking hated it. Hated her. Hated myself.

She had stolen my daughter, my angel, from me. She had taken away sex from our marriage, when I now knew she was capable of this. She had not had a kind or decent thing to say in years. And now she about to explode in pleasure.

I grabbed both of her tiny nipples and half of each the tits behind them and squeezed, pinching hard. How many times after Christi was born, had Priscilla stopped any intimacy when I'd somehow caused her pain, even minor or incidental?

The bitch deserved no pleasure after what she had done to my daughter, to me. For the first time in my life I chose consciously to hurt my wife. To cause her pain.

She screamed. Raggedly, with her mouth almost sealed against my neck where she had been kissing and licking. Her hips stopped in mid-arch. The scream changed pitch to a inhuman, forlorn whining growl. She came hard. She came as I pressed her into the brick wall. As I hurt her. As I hated her.

She shook against me, shimmying her pussy, almost a vibration, on my leg. My hands left off tormenting her tits to grab her and prevent her from toppling us over. We stumbled a step or two back away from the brick wall, her convulsing was so strong.

Fuck. The one time I stop being a spineless weasel and actually hurt someone who richly deserves it, it gets them off. I felt my cheeks burning red, shamed with my failings, even angrier at her. 

I looked both ways down the alley to see if anyone answered her muffled screams. Either no one heard or no one cared. Still breathing hard, my wife had stopped shaking in my arms. She pushed her hair out of her face and looked up into my blazing, angry eyes. And she smiled.

"Damn, that was good. I needed that."

I lost it. Frustration. Rage. Resentment. Shame. It all boiled over. I slapped her.

I had never in all our years struck her. Any other time, throughout all her bitter fits and nasty barbs, if I had struck her, I would have immediately turned into a whimpering ball of apology.

Not that night. I had wanted to hurt her. I had hurt her. And she took it as pleasure. 

I didn't say a word or make a sound. I grabbed her by the hair again. One tug spun her around off balance, her back to me. One pull downward and she halfway fell over a discarded crate. 

I pinned her head to the rough wood of the crate top with my fist tightly bound in her hair, keeping her bent at the waist. I shoved her dress up. Black panty hose covered her exposed ass.

She started to babble. "What are you doing? You can't..."

"Shut up!" I cut her off, surprising both of us. "For once, Priscilla, you miserable bitter bitch, shut the fuck up!"

As I spoke I reached down with my free hand and grabbed the sheer black material covering her. My thumb stretched in far enough that I could feel her clearly wet pussy.

I hooked the thumb in as I stretched the panty hose away from her. The material sank painfully into her crotch before my thumb started a hole. Once the hole began the nylon tore wide open as I yanked it to the side. 

I let it go and placed my hand back on her now bare backside. This time, my thumb slid directly into her. Once, twice, three little fucks of my thumb.

Miraculously, she had shut up. Her breathing was shallow and quick. I know she felt my hand leave her, my slippery thumb dragging up and over her tiny butthole as it left. I'm sure she heard my zipper lower as I kept her against the wooden crate with my other fist in her hair. She still didn't make a sound.

My cock bounced twice as my hand freed it. Strangely, I knew I wasn't hard because of her cumming on my leg as I pinched her nipples. Normally, her orgasming like that would have totally turned me on. But this was different.

I was hard with rage. The cause of my torment, my pain, my shame was bent over in front of me. I didn't need a hand to guide me inside of her. She was soaked and I pointed at her center, anger driving me home.

I cranked back on her hair, twisting her neck hard against my knuckles, and I shoved. With my legs and my hips, holding her pinned with my fist at the base of her skull, I shoved myself as far as I could into her.

I had always had to take my time and ease into her. She was tiny. And whiney. My cock isn't huge, but pretty thick I gather. And, today, in no mood to take its time. 

It needed three thrusts to bottom out in her gut. I could see her brow creasing as she tried accept it. I fucked in and out of her for only a few more raging seconds before I pulled out. She always hated getting my cum on her, so I stretched her dress up and off her back before shooting four long streams up along her spine.

I dropped her dress and the knit material snapped back against her and the new warm wetness. I released her hair and zipped myself back up. She remained on top of the crate, unmoving. 

My anger was gone, replaced by contempt, and when I placed both hands on her dress above where my seed had landed and pressed down, I actually felt a smile crack my face.

Without a word, I walked off toward where we had parked. 

I heard her whine, "Hey, aren't you going to wait for me?" 

Then the sound of her heels clicking as she ran to catch up. Not another word was spoken on the drive, nor as I opened the main door of the house while she headed for her separate office on the garage floor.

From that day on, the downstairs was 'hers' and the upstairs floor, mine. We had converted the old duplex into a larger single family home when she was pregnant with Christi. It became a duplex again.

I finished my spin, then sat in the small sauna in the master suite. Now it was time for the spa. 

The spa was one of my favorite parts of the house. Off the guest bedroom, the second bedroom in my half of the duplex, the spa sat on the deck with a view for miles. It was covered and and trellised enough to be private, but still offer views of hill after rolling hill of hardwood forest.

Christi would be gone for hours still and I was sweating profusely after the sauna, so I stuck the joint I'd rolled earlier in my mouth and slipped into sandals. I'd make the trek through the kitchen and great room to the spa. There was access to the deck both from the great room and the guest room.

In flip flops and nothing else, dripping sweat, I entered the kitchen. And froze. Right in front of me was a beautiful woman in a bikini bent over my sink, her nearly naked backside pointed my way. My foot stopped in midstride, suspended in the air.

I saw smooth, young skin. I saw a narrow waist and swelling hips that begged for low-cut jeans to hug them. I saw a lot more side boob than her mother's child should expect. It had dawned on me who this beauty was an instant before I realized I shouldn't be looking at my daughter this way.

The way the one arm that I could see was stretched awkwardly beneath her, the way her legs were spread in a wide stance, what I saw moving had to be her fingers under the thin material of her bottoms, between her thighs.

What I heard was, quite clearly, "I am so fucking horny!"

That is when I gasped. Or coughed. Or choked. Not sure.

Christi, my little angel, now a curvy sexy horny woman, spun in surprise at the unexpected sound. The beer bottle sitting on the counter next to her elbow hit the tile floor and shattered.

I saw her face change as she spun. First there was surprise and a flash of fear, followed quickly by a an aggressive, predator's look. Her face softened at recognizing her father with one foot in the air. The cycle completed when she realized the father with the airborne foot was buck naked. Except for flip flops.

Disoriented, she stumbled back and then screamed. She grabbed at her right foot and ankle. I immediately saw bright red blood on the floor beneath her. 

"Daddy!" She was my little angel and she needed rescued. I forgot entirely about being exposed to my daughter, or her shocking statement. My baby was hurt and surrounded by broken glass.

I took the few steps to her and swept her up in my arms. If I had been barefoot I would have done the same thing. If she had been surrounded by hungry alligators and piranha, I would have waded in. The joy of my heart had finally been found, and she had cried out for her Daddy in pain and fear. Nothing would have kept me away.

I swept her up like a groom might carry his new bride over the threshold, or a hero would cradle the innocent maiden, newly saved from the foul designs of the dastardly villain. Christi's arms were tight around my neck, her face buried in my shoulder. Her tears added to my sweat.

Afterwards, I thought about how easy she was to heft and carry. Christi was almost 5'10" and curvy. Without the adrenalin involved, I probably would have had to bend at the knees and lift carefully. But when she cried out to me, I had all the strength I needed to make her safe. I had failed to protect her before, from her mother. I would always protect her now.

I lowered her to the couch in the family room. My grip slipped the last few inches because of the sweat.

"Daddy! I'll bleed on the couch." Her voice had a hitch to it, almost a sob.

"Fuck the couch. Let me see your foot, baby." I kneeled on the floor and gently took her ankle in my hands. I cringed at the sight.

The entire round glass bottom of the bottle was attached hard against her heel. Apparently she has stepped directly on it, driving a shard coming out of the top of it up into her foot.

"My poor baby girl." I said in a low, soothing tone, staying calm for her sake. "Sweetie, I need to get the first aid kit to take care of you. I'll be right back, okay?"

Her lower lip was stuck out beyond the upper, and it was quivering. She nodded.

I kissed her forehead. "I will be right back."

I stood up after reassuring her, ready to get the supplies I needed.

"Daddy?" Her voice was quiet.

"Yes, sweetie?"

She smiled hesitantly up at me. "Pretty exciting times, huh?"

"Yeah." I agreed, puzzled as to how she meant it.

She must have seen my bewilderment. She glanced downward and my eyes followed hers: as I stood over my injured daughter, who was wearing only a skimpy bikini over her ripe woman's body, one breast now almost falling out of a triangle now moist with her father's sweat, my cock stood straight out over her. 

I spun away from her in shock, trying to hide my entirely inappropriate arousal. Flustered, I repeated once more. "I'll be right back."

I fled, embarrassed and more distracted by my body's response than I had been by the injury. Fortunately I knew right where I kept the first aid supplies. I grabbed the kit and some towels and pulled on a pair of shorts, then ran back to her.

My heart melted looking at my angel like that. Tears streaked her face. She had blood on her hands and a small red pool had formed on the couch cushion under her heel.

"It's okay, baby." I murmured as I knelt beside her again. "Daddy will take care of you."

I placed a folded towel under her foot, then examined her heel. I experimented, pulling lightly on the bottle bottom.

"Ow-ee." She whispered. Her face was tight. Her bloody hands were clenched over her belly. I considered how to proceed. I couldn't tell how far into her heel the glass went, or if it had done serious damage. My initial tug had not moved it at all, indicating it was not a shallow wound.

Pausing to think freed my brain from doing nothing but react. It took the opportunity to point out how smooth and firm my daughter's calf felt as I cradled it in one hand while examining her foot. Then it pointed out that, further up her leg and clearly in my sight, her bikini bottom was pushed slightly to one side and I could see a narrow strip of smooth shaved flesh that should not be exposed.

I stayed kneeling, so the returned erection I was now very aware of in my shorts would not be tenting right above her again. "Baby, we should get you to the emergency room. This needs stitches, and you may have injured a tendon or something."

"Can't you take care of it, Daddy?"

"I wish I could." I noticed her stomach seemed more bloody. "Honey, let me see your hand."

A shallow but long slice had opened her palm. Probably cut it while reaching for her heel. Glass cuts are so sharp, sometimes they're hard to feel.

-----

Four hours later, I helped my daughter back into the house. They'd given her crutches, to keep her bandaged heel safe. But they were awkward to use because of the bandaged left hand.

I resisted an urge to sweep her up and carry her up the stairs. Especially after the painkillers they'd given her. I'd have trouble walking with two good feet on that stuff. 

At the hospital, both in the waiting room and once the nurse had closed our little dividing curtain while we waited for the doctor, Christi seemed to really enjoy being cared for. Attended to. By me. Her voice took on a more dependent and immature tone. Wanting me to hold her hand, stroke her hair.

She squeezed my hand with hers, locking her eyes on mine, the entire time the doctor was working in her foot. Fortunately, there was no structural damage though she had to get several stitches. Her left hand probably would have been fine with a bandage, but they put a butterfly on after they cleaned it.

I set her up on the reclining couch after raising the foot rest. My other couch would need some new cushions, at least, after all the blood. I put the TV controller at hand. I could tell the painkillers were kicking in by the glazed way she looked up at me, smiling.

"Daddy, you take the best care of me ever!" Her brows came together as I laughed. "No. I mean it. You do, Daddy. I love you."

Her arms came up in the universal sign for a hug. After losing his only, beloved daughter for years before finding her, and blaming himself for her loss, what father's heart wouldn't glow a bit to have her tell him he's the best ever?

I couldn't help it. As as leaned down into her embrace and let her fold her arms around me, I started to cry.

She was really here. She was really safe; except for some stitches. And she loved me like she always had. When I pulled back enough to look her in the eyes, her arms still loose around my neck, she saw my tears.

Christi made the cutest surprised baby face. And said, "Ohhhh."

My daughter took my face in her hands and kissed at the streaks running down my cheeks. The kisses were quick and soft. The last one, just as soft and just as quick was right on my lips. Not an intimate kiss at all, but still not where my daughter had usually kissed me.

As her arms slipped from around me and I stood back up, Christi spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "Dad? About earlier..."

My old friend Shame awoke. My hard-on after carrying her? Her fingers on her slit under her bikini bottoms as she cried out how horny she was? Me standing behind her naked as she did? I had tried not to think about it all yet. Tried and failed.

She spit out her question. It came out in a rush. "Was that a joint in your mouth in the kitchen?"

I burst out laughing. So hard I had to sit down next to her. "I thought you meant your...frustration proclamation."

She looked puzzled. I hammed it up, leaning back on the couch and cupping my crotch. I tried for a sultry Kathleen Turner voice. "I'm so...fucking...horny."

Christi was laughing now, and covered her face with her hands. Her voice was muffled by fingers and bandage. "At least I wasn't running around like you. 'A man's gotta spleef and he's got his flip flops. Who the hell needs clothes?'"

"Sorry, hon. I've been alone around here too long; I forget some people wear clothes at home. And you," I shoulder bumped my daughter next to me on the sofa, "were supposed to be out all day."

"You." She bumped me back. I think we were both a little giddy after the stress and excitement. She had a better excuse with the pills. "I just couldn't stand to be away from my dear Pa Pa, my first day home and Christmas Eve."

"But I was going to be golfing." I reminded her. "That doesn't make sense."

She surrendered. "Oh yeah. Well, then Jasmine had to work and I didn't want to hang out with just Michelle all day. I know I haven't seen her in years, and she means well, but I was already starting to get bored just listening to her go on on the phone when I called her. I thought some me time would be nice. Soak in the spa."

"How'd that work out for ya?"

She bumped me again, but stayed leaning against my shoulder. She sighed. "It's been mixed so far. Let's see. I got to go on a field trip to the hospital, got pretty killer pills and these nifty bandages, but now I'm banned from the spa and drinking. I committed alcohol abuse on that nearly full bottle of Pilsner Urquell, sliced the fuck out of myself, and found a convenient source for my marijuana needs.

"Speaking of which, you didn't answer my question. Even though I know the answer. So I'll ask another one, dearest Daddy: what is it going to take for me to get you to go get that damn joint I saw?"

"All you had to do was ask the right question, baby girl. It's gotta be somewhere in the kitchen. It flew out of my mouth and then I got distracted."

I had turned the corner to the kitchen and stopped at the sight of beer and broken glass forgotten on the floor, when I thought I heard my daughter say, "Oh yeah. And I also got to see Daddy's nice hard dick."

I must have misheard.

Before I could deliver on my poor wounded baby's request, I cleaned up the kitchen floor. Of course, the skinny pinner I had rolled had soaked up beer, so I rolled us a decent sized joint before joining her again on the couch.

I lit the twisted end of the joint, filled my lungs as I made sure it was burning evenly, and passed it over to my daughter. Something I certainly wouldn't have considered five years ago. After she inhaled deeply and handed it back, she let her head drop back, eyes closed. While holding in the smoke, in a tight voice to avoid exhaling, she let a out a long "Ahhhh.

"What. A. Day."

I shook my head in agreement. "Not the way I had it planned. But I'm still glad you're home, sweetheart."

"Me too, Pop."

We sat in silence for a while, shoulder to shoulder, passing the joint back and forth. The comfortable silence of old friends, who hadn't seen each other in a long while. Then she asked me. "Would you do it again for me?"

"Hmm?" I answered.

She rested her hands on her lap and arched a little upwards. I couldn't help notice how her arms squeezed her full breasts together under her T shirt. I didn't see any signs of the bikini I had pulled the shirt over before we headed to the hospital. "You know. Do the 'I'm...so...horny' thing again."

I turned toward her to roll my eyes. "I was just a pale imitation of the original. But obviously, we have learned that the original is a highly dangerous maneuver, which I will not attempt to duplicate."

"Daddy!" She whined, still smiling. "That's not fair. You invaded a private moment."

"In my kitchen."

The beauty beside me pouted again. It made her adult face once again transform into the little girl who had helped me change oil and repair fences, eager to have the next tool I'd need ready to hand off to me like a surgical nurse in an operating room. 

"Our kitchen?" Her voice was small.

My shoulders slumped as tension left them: a burden I hadn't been aware I was carrying had been relieved. "You mean you want to stay, sweetie?"

She must have been able to see my joy. "Of course. I never wanted to go."

She paused. "If you'll have me."

"Oh, baby girl. I never wanted you to go." I babbled. "I can fix your room back up. You are welcome as long as you like. This is your home."

Thanks, Dad." She nuzzled sideways against me. 

Then her voice suddenly sounded commanding. "Now do it."

Her eyes were bright looking up at me and she was smiling wide. My daughter pulled her elbows in to her ribs to again squeeze her breasts between her upper arms, then shimmied side to side briefly. I tried to forget the way they shook and sprung back, with only the tiniest hints of two nipples poking through the thin fabric.

I was a child of the 70s, and my daughter had 70s tits. Not late 70s Disco tits, smallish and pointy. Early 70s burned-my-bra free love jugs. Full, firm titties as nature intended. Ideally barely constrained by a holey tie dyed shirt or, better yet, a hand-macramed bikini top, over low hip hugger jeans. 

Now that I thought about it, my daughter had 70s hips too. Narrow but soft waist, not a six pack by any means. Then a hard curving flair outward of those hips. Designed to just barely prevent low-slung faded denim from slipping...

As I moved my hands down to cup my crotch for her show, it had taken my brain a fraction of a second to favorably compare Christi to one of my ideal fantasy girl types. 

She's your daughter, idiot! She had just come back, and she would leave again and never return if she knew what I was thinking.

At least I could use it to fuel my 'performance.' 

I made a show of wrapping both hands over my groin. I arched my back, thrusting my chest upward and my shoulders back. I could feel myself semi-hard under my hands. I groaned, overly prolonged.

"Oh. My. Sweet. Lord." I hoped my own over-acting would distract me as I saw my daughter's legs wide again as she bent over the kitchen sink, the empty, eye-catching space between her thighs capped by the motion of frantic fingers captive beneath her bikini bottoms, stretching the thin nylon material. 

I groaned again. I had always been a bit of a ham and couldn't help myself: I began to mock 'finger' myself with the fingers of one hand while I arched, my crotch thrust toward the ceiling and shaking. I probably sounded like an exaggerated, drawn out Divine. "I...am...so...fucking...horny."

I collapsed in a trembling heap, quivering in mock orgasm. Partly to continue the show and see my sweet baby laugh. Partly to hide my now completely hard cock.

Unfortunately she did laugh. Too hard. She kicked her feet as she laughed at me, then yelped. She had banged her bandaged heel back down on the raised recliner footrest.

"Are you okay, sweetie?"

She bit down on her lip in pain. "Not too bad, Daddy. Good thing I'm on drugs. It just scared me."

I had sat up and leaned over her in my concern. My daughter was reclined, looking almost directly up at me. She bit her lip again.

She slid her hands down slowly to mold over her crotch, the unbandaged one resting lightly over the other, her legs extended and slightly apart.

Still biting her lip, still looking up at her father, my little girl arched her back toward me. Those perfect, fantasy titties lifted and displayed as though her arms were carefully presenting a succulent dish for my enjoyment. 

Then she stuck out her tongue and started to pulse her good hand rapidly. Her body shook in exaggerated convulsions. "Uhhhuuhhuuuh."

I flopped back on the couch as we both laughed. Christi, at herself. Her father, in relief that she had broken the sexual tension.

"Daddy, can we watch TV?"

"Of course."

"Yay!" She sat up and grabbed the controller, checked channels. And warmed my heart with her choice: comedy animation. The same sort of 'adult cartoons' the two of us had giggled at years ago as her mother shook her head in disgust.

She looked at me, her head cocked to one side. 

"What?" I asked.

She acted surprised that I didn't know what she wanted. "Daddy! Assume the position."

I remembered then. When my daughter had been little she always wanted to lie with me on the couch. Since she was so small, I could hold her in front of me and still see the TV over her. I don't know how many times I carried her to bed after she fell asleep that way.

She was bigger now. Taller and curvier. Once I had stretched out with my head on the puffy arm rest, scrunched as far back as I could, Christi eased down in front of me. She placed the bandaged foot hanging off a pillow so there wouldn't be any pressure on it.

As she adjusted, I became aware of her body and the different ways she pressed against me. Eventually, she settled down. I could see over her ear. I could feel her round ass pin me against the back of the couch. I caught a whiff of her hair. Earthy, spicy. Pheremonal. 

My daughter seemed to sense it when I inhaled her scent. She wiggled back against me from shoulders to hips. She leaned her head back toward me, bringing my nose and face right into her thick hair.

"Daddy, can you move back? I'm right on the edge."

"I'm back as far as I can, baby. You're...you've grown up since we did this last."

"You have to hold me then." She fumbled back for my hand and pulled it around her waist. Her shirt must have pushed up as my hand came to rest on her bare stomach. Smooth and soft skin filled my palm. 

"Daddy! Hold me." Her hand pulled mine up along her sternum, towing my arm around her. When she stopped, my daughter had my upper arm securely around her mid section with my hand, clasped in hers, under her shirt and positioned directly between her pillowy breasts.

She sighed, wiggling her hips one more time. "That's better. You don't want me to fall off the couch do you, Daddy?"

What could I say to that. "Of course not, little one. Daddy will keep you safe from the big bad fall."

My daughter actually cooed at that. I felt her hand squeeze mine. Another waft of her scent hit me. I tried to concentrate on the cartoon.

When I woke up, it was dark. Christi must have turned off the TV. She had twisted toward me in our sleep. Her bandaged foot was now draped over my legs and...oh god.

My hand was filled with the most perfect breast it had ever held. Definitely more than a handful, but firm and yet so soft under my fingers. 

If I jerked my hand away, I'd wake her up to the sensation of her father perving on her tit. I slowly eased my hand down and out of her shirt. My middle finger, the longest and therefore the last to leave her, betrayed me. I felt it slide over the slightest bump in her smooth flesh. Entirely of its own will, that finger stayed momentarily to caress that tiny forbidden nipple. My daughter's elusive nipple I had been seeing only hints of all day.

Christi grumbled in her sleep and my hand finished its retreat. She stretched as the fog lifted a wee bit.

"Daddy?"

"Daddy needs to get up, honey. I know you said you'd be okay on the couch for the night, but your father needs to go to bed."

She still sounded asleep. "Okay. Good night. I love you."

She rolled towards me, tucked her head against my chest to sleep. 

"Honey, I need to get up."

No answer. So I extracted myself as best I could, leaving her sprawled in the space both of us had filled. "I love you too." 

I stumbled to my own bed. Fuck! The instant my head hit the pillow, I remembered I didn't get a present for Christi. Christmas was tomorrow.

I looked at the clock. Christmas was today.

--------

I'm not sure what the dream was about. I usually forget my dreams very quickly, except a few feelings, images or impressions. 

The image that stayed with me was of, strangely, a nurse from the hospital yesterday. Not a classic beauty, but I had noticed her striking look even in all the commotion. Strong, chiseled cheeks and jawline, small but muscular arms on the verge of being 'guns.'

She was on her knees in front of me, balancing my very hard penis carefully on her fingertips while she examined it. 

The odd thing, and the last memory from the dream, was her chest. She wore a thin T shirt that showed every curve of beautiful, full breasts she hadn't had in the hospital.

They were pushed together by her arms, like Christi's were on the couch. Very prominent nipples pushed the thin cotton outward. I was mesmerized by them, drinking in the way they stretched to the side over her arms as they were squeezed together.

Even in the dream, I recognized this nurse's breasts, full, firm, nipples erect, were my daughter's. Even though they were on someone else, and sporting much larger nipples, they were hers. My final thought was glee that I could check them out now, even picture tearing that shirt down the middle and sucking one of those nipples hard between my lips and teeth, because they weren't on Christi. 

I was awake. As I lay on my back, my cock stuck almost straight up. I could dimly see that my daughter sat cross-legged on the bed by my hip. Her unbandaged right hand, ever so gently lowered over my erection.

She moved it like the crane bucket of one of those stuffed toy rip-off vending machines. Fingers open as they dropped down, surrounding my head and upper shaft. Closing in until fingertips lightly touched at five sensitive points.

Her mouth was open slightly and her eyes focused on what her hand was doing. Like five feathers, her touch began slowly traveling upwards. My hips moved. Probably, my breath changed too.

My daughter's fingertips paused as she turned to look up at my face. Five fingers, all lightly resting right on the raised ridge where my swollen head began. One tip was directly on the soft sensitive skin at the very bottom of the ridge, where it pinched up into a V shape.

I couldn't even remember the last time a hand not my own had been on me, just touching. The gorgeous woman touching me now would have been still a girl then.

I looked up at her. To let her know this was wrong, that it was probably the pills. My eyes found hers. She was smiling broadly. Her voice was low. "I guess I'm not the only horny one around here."

I felt her fingers move slightly on my ridge as she said it. I groaned. Unable to look her back in the eye, I lowered my gaze. 

The way she had twisted above me pressed her tits hard against the threadbare knit. I thought of the nurse's hard nipples and my eyes searched for them. They found the slightest hint of a tiny shadow at the peak of each pert mound.

I was checking out my daughter's nipples. While she touched my hard-on. I must have leaked a little precum, because that one fingertip, on that one most sensitive spot, suddenly felt slippery. I couldn't feel the other four, but that one moved now in slow circles over that V.

I looked back up at her. She was again focused on my cock. Her mouth hung open. I thought I saw deeper shadows - were her nipples getting harder? This was not right.

Again, she spoke just as I gathered my thoughts to speak up and stop this. That one slippery finger stopped its slows circles and began to rapidly flick over that now very stimulated spot. "Yeah, Daddy. Your little girl isn't the only one that is...so...fucking...horny."

I was taken completely by surprise. I came like a teenager, out of control, no warning, spraying up into my daughter's palm. All five fingers now encouraging each subsequent pulsing pump of her father's orgasm. But still just her fingertips, nothing more. Still a light touch, gently stroking five soft lines toward the tip.

I don't think I had ever cum just from a hand job, and this was less contact than a hand job. But I think I still could have stopped things from going further with my daughter, except for what she did next.

Her face held a look of awe as she examined her hand, covered in my explosion. I saw her buck her hips once, like one deep slow thrust, as she kneeled there above me. 

With the thumb of her bandaged hand, she hooked the hem of her shirt and stretched it upwards. In one motion exposing her belly, her panties, and her breasts. What glorious breasts! Each a perfect double handful, with the smallest nipples I had ever seen. Pale pink, even with the outer areola a penny would easily cover each one. The hard nubbin in the center, try as it might to thrust outward, was too small to do much more than crinkle into hardness.

Then she brought her free hand, covered in her father's cum, to her belly. She smeared it in, pushing up and over both tits, my daughter massaging my seed into her beautiful young naked curves. I was mesmerized as each breast was compressed and moved by her slippery hand. Her skin shone wet with my cum.

Involuntarily, I thrust upward from the bed into the air beside her, moaning loudly.

"Fuck, Daddy! That was so fucking hot." Her hips were slowly humping again as she continued to rub my juices into her skin. She looked down at me and gasped. 

I followed her gaze. My cock was still at attention, without any hint of droop. Again, if that had happened before, it was in high school.

Christi started to let her shirt slide back down, then paused. She grabbed the hem with her right hand too and pulled it over her head and off. My gorgeous, curvy, sexy daughter, half covered in my cum, leaned over me wearing nothing but white cotton panties.

"How long's it been, Dad?"

"Huh?" She had me so far off balance I couldn't think. And her tone was so matter of fact.

"How long's it been? Since you, you know, had sex. With another person?" She smiled at the last part. I did too.

I hesitated before answering though I knew exactly. I sighed. "Four years."

She nodded. "It's been over two for me. What a travesty."

She had a thoughtful look on her face, then suddenly sprung into motion. I saw the gap between her panties and thighs go wide as she threw one leg over my belly. Before I knew what had happened she was sitting on my stomach facing me, one knee on either side. Wearing only thin cotton panties, my daughter straddled her naked father, holding me beneath her. I could see the bandaged heel safely point up off the bed.

"Daddy?" Her voice sounded like a needy little girl again.

"Yes?" 

"I want my Christmas present now."

I had completely forgotten this was Christmas morning. She must have felt me tense as I jumped to a conclusion as to what her 'present' would be.

She bit at her lower lip and wiggled her hips just slightly on me. "Not that, Daddy. Naughty, naughty Daddy. Thinking dirty things about his little girl."

She humped a little harder this time and my stiff cock bumped her ass. She smiled down at me. "Naughty Daddy."

"No. I have something else I want my handsome Daddy to do for me. Something I've always wanted my man to do for me." She cupped her unbandaged right hand under her breast and leaned toward me.

She stroked my hair alongside my temple with the fingers of her bandaged hand and leaned forward more.

"Lick your cum off my titty, Daddy. Suck your cum off your little baby's nipple." I saw two of her fingers, that had so recently been gently stroking my cock as I came, pinch one tiny nipple, inches from my face.

I was lost. When my daughter brought the nipple forward to my lips, encouraging my head forward with her other hand, I gave in. I sucked her whole tiny pink bud in while I brought my left hand up to hold her breast. My right hand went to her waist, feeling the swell of her hip. Her hand made room for mine on her tit by grabbing the headboard behind me.

I released her from my mouth and brought my tongue in a broad slow lick between my thumb and finger, barely feeling her hardened little nub. It was salty. A bit umami. 

I felt her buck in my hand. Her fingers gripped my hair. "Oh my..." She bucked again harder, and again.

"Yes, Daddy. Yesss." Started as a whine, but trailed off hissing between her teeth.

My lips and tongue went mad on her. Sucking, licking, tasting, flicking. 

"The other one." A whisper.

I grabbed her other tit with my right hand, now gripping one in each. I squeezed enough that her unsucked nipple and the end of breast bulged forward then licked just the tiny nubbin with the tip of my tongue.

Once, twice, a third quick flick. I could see the crinkly tightness pulling my angel's whole pink areola inward when I pulled back to look.

Even without my hand on her hips, I could feel them rocking back and forth on my stomach. "Please don't stop. It feels sooo good."

This last was punctuated by a deeper grind of her hips, coinciding with my sucking that nipple deep, then gently catching it in my teeth.

Because my sucking in that perfect pink button occurred as she humped back hard on me, my teeth nipped her delicate tensed flesh just as her panty-clad ass contacted my hard-on.

My cock was pointed strongly up towards her, so when my daughter's hips pushed down, she pushed right onto my swollen head. The head she had been teasing with her fingertips not long ago. 

I gasped, releasing my teeth from her. She gasped and her hips plunged forward away from the impact. She lifted them entirely off of me, raising herself slightly onto her knees, before pulling my mouth back onto her. 

"Do that again." 

I didn't hesitate, but pulled her firm flesh to me while sucking hard on her nub before again biting down on the tip. 

Again she gasped as my teeth touched her. Again her hips moved. This time they pushed back in the air above my aching hard cock, raised on her knees as though about to get fucked from behind. 

"Oh my god, don't stop, Daddy. It feels so fucking good." I could feel her body tensing just before her hips dropped down on me. My cock was under her now, trapped between us. She started to grind again, faster, more urgent. Only thin cotton separated me from from my only daughter's most forbidden treasure.

Thin wet cotton, as I could feel the slickness of her juices between my cock and her thighs.

I could barely find her hard little nipple with my tongue when I held it in my teeth. But I did find it, and flicked quickly up and down on it. That and the pressure of her father's shaft directly on her panty covered clit pushed Christi over the edge. She collapsed on top of me. I wrapped my arms around her as she shook, almost vibrating against my cock as she came.

Her voice against my neck as I held her had no words. "Unnh. Uh.uh.uhnnnn."

It gradually changed to a labored breathing as her shaking slowed. She nuzzled deeper behind my ear.

"Mmmm. Daddy." I felt a light kiss on my neck. "Thank you for my Christmas present."

"You're welcome, baby. You know, you're my present. You're the best present ever." I wrapped her tightly in my arms, delighted my daughter was home and safe. And relieved things had stopped when they did. Not soon enough, but they hadn't gone as far as I feared.

"I know, Daddy. I know. I am. I love you." Her voice sounded blissful, relaxed.

"I love you too. Your Daddy loves his little princess." One hand came up to stroke her hair.

"Mmmm." I felt the slightest of movement, rocking, from her hips against me.

Christi fell asleep within moments as I held her. More surprising, I soon joined her, still holding her on top of me.

-------

I awoke this time with my daughter's firm ass in my hand. With her lips and breath and tongue on the side of my neck. With long slow rocking thrusts of her hips against me.

"Are you awake, Pa Pa?"

I cleared my throat. "I am."

She levered herself up enough to look down at me. "Good. Promise me you won't move."

She stroked at the hair by my temple before she continued. "I have to pee. But then I want to give you your present..."

"Sweetie, I told you, you are the only present I need or want."

"I know, silly Daddy. I know. Just wait." She pulled her T shirt back on before climbing off of me.

I waited. And watched as she hobbled toward the bath, keeping her heel high. I watched how long and shapely her legs looked coming out of her shirt. The hem hung low enough to cover her panties but that still left a lot of leg.

Not skinny, but long. Muscular thighs and prominent calves tapered gracefully into knee and ankle. 

I had more or less promised to stay immobile. Did that include tucking my cock back under the sheet that was currently crumpled at my feet?

Fuck. I was still wet with her juices. My daughter's juices. I heard water running before Christi limped back into sight. 

She was still wearing the same thin T shirt, hanging down enough that I couldn't see her panties. Oddly, I had half expected her to come out in a different outfit, even though I knew she had no clothes in my bathroom.

I could see a thoughtful, pondering look on her face as she clambered back onto the bed. Without hesitation, she climbed back astride my stomach, resuming her previous very intimate position. I could not help noticing the swell of her breasts in front of me, pressing outward on the cotton shirt.

Breasts I had sucked, licked and bitten not long ago. Breasts that had been covered in my own cum. The most magnificent breasts I had ever touched, and they were again right in front of me, offered up by this beautiful woman who had been my underdeveloped young daughter five years ago.

I bit into my lower lip when I realized tiny shadows were revealing her diminutive nipples now, where they hadn't been when she had climbed onto me. I looked up to see my daughter studying me, watching me ogle her chest.

"Sorry, sweetie. I couldn't help it. You didn't have these when...I saw you last." I was caught, so why deny I was checking her out?

"Daddy! I did so. I had these." She sat up straight and hefted one in each hand. I could see the shape of them pressing against each other under her shirt. "I had these when you saw me last. I think I remember you not only saw them, you licked your cum off them, Daddy."

As she pointed out my inaccuracy, and my recent crossing of taboo bounds with my daughter, I watched her caress the area over and around her nipples with her index fingers. Then she added her thumbs, gently pinching at them through her shirt.

"Fuck, that was hot. I've always wanted a guy to do that. Who knew it would be my handsome, sexy father? Our...sexy...secret. Right, Daddy?" Her voice had started out fast and excited. The last part was a slow hoarse whisper. She was staring down into my eyes.

I nodded, trying to gather my thoughts. This gorgeous young woman had a talent for throwing me off balance. "Our secret. Yeah."

Christi carefully placed one forearm to either side of me and lowered herself. I felt her breasts touch and then spread out as she put her weight on my chest. She tucked her face in close beside my head. A hint of her breath teased by my ear.

"Our sexy secret." She whispered so low, a zephyr in my ear, following it with a barely audible moan.

She pressed back down along my body with hers, until she contacted the growing head of my cock, resting on my belly but beginning to again fill with blood.

I'm still horny, Daddy." She had to feel me twitch against her at the words. "Still fucking horny."

She nibbled at my ear now, between whispers I should never have been listening to. "And I'm not the only one."

I felt frozen, helpless. Some part of me wanted to push her off and tell her this was wrong and had to stop. Another part wanted to push her off, spread her long perfect legs and shove myself in to this temptress, taking her hard.

If I had an little angel and devil on my shoulders to give me advice in trying situations, right now they would be locked in a double submission attempt, tied up and choking each other. Or maybe 69ing each other, caught up like I was.

The nibbling paused. She wiggled down against me. "Do you want to see my titties again?"

I had to nod my head. I couldn't have said no and I didn't trust myself to speak.

"I want to show them to you. I didn't have these when I was eighteen, did I?"

I shook my head in agreement.

"I like the way you look at your daughter's big firm tits, Pa Pa."

She started to push herself back upright, then dropped her mouth again to my ear, catching the lobe between her lips before she whispered, "I like the way you bite my nipples, too."

Then she sat back up on my stomach. I noticed she was a little further down on me though, as my now-hard shaft was again pressed between us.

My daughter took one of my hands in each of hers. She brought them to each side of her shirt hem, resting on her hips. "Pull my shirt off, Daddy."

She raised her arms over her head. I pulled the bottom of her T up, slowing a little as it caught and then released one breast followed by the other. My daughter leaned her head and arms forward enough that I could pull her shirt the rest of the way off, then leaned back.

She was beautiful. Part my sidekick little girl, part gorgeous stranger who had just appeared in my life less than two days ago. I could hardly tear my eyes away from those wonderful breasts. Especially those tiny, now very hard and crinkled pink nipples.

She was no longer wearing panties. Apparently they did not make the return trip from the bathroom. My only daughter sat on top of me entirely naked, pressing down on my very erect and naked cock. Her hips rocked.

"Are they as nice as you remembered?" This time her hands found bare breasts, pinched exposed nipples. Fortunately the bandage on her hand left covered only the palm. Then she spread her arms wide. "Do you like it?"

Wait. "'Do I like it' what?"

She smiled down at me. "Silly Daddy. Do you like your present? You just unwrapped it didn't you?"

"Christi...we can't...it's not that I..." I trailed off, more put off by the taunting smile she was giving me as she returned to fondling herself, than by my inability to articulate a thought agreed upon by the vast majority of humanity for millennia.

She knew she had me. My daughter reached down with one of her hands and lightly stroked my chest. Her other hand continued to pinch one nipple.

Her lips were parted and her eyelids half closed. Silently, her lips moved, mouthing the word "Daddy."

Her hips began to grind on me.

"Sweetie..." I began. 

"Shhh." She cut me off. Her hips were still. "Listen to me, Dad."

She sounded so serious, and looked it.

"When I came to the door the other night, do you know how scared I was?"

I shook my head. 

"But I knew you were waiting for me. My father. The one person in the world that deep down I knew would always love me. You opened the door. And I could see it in your eyes: you didn't even recognize me."

I nodded. It was true. There had been a moment when I wondered who this woman was coming to my door when I was expecting my baby girl. It was when she had looked a little scared and hurt, when the young girl she had been came out, that I saw my sweet daughter.

"I wanted to run away so bad in that instant. My daddy didn't know me. Instead you held out your arms to me; you brought me home.

"We'll never have this Christmas again, Daddy. Just this once."

I must have looked puzzled.

"Just this once, I am still that stranger at your door. The woman you're starting to get to know. Just this one Christmas I am still that stranger, the one with the nipples that drive you insane." She pinched hers harder then, stretching it out from her chest.

"Just this once." Those curvy smooth strong hips started to move again, "The stranger you caught fingering herself in your house. The one who inspired that amazing hard-on as you swept her off her feet when she stepped on broken glass. The one you got high. The one whose tits you sucked your own cum off of."

I groaned, at her words and the now wet pressure on my groin as she rocked, sliding her bare pussy up and down my cock.

My daughter finally stopped teasing her nipple. The tender skin around it was actually red from her pinches and pulls. She gingerly leaned forward on both her hands, pressing her weight onto my chest. It lifted the pressure off of my cock. She looked startled when it sprang upwards, lightly smacking her wetness. I felt her hips wiggle briefly side to side at the unexpected contact.

"Daddy." She paused. Her hips did not move. Her breasts were motionless above me, but they called to me, begging for my touch, my lips, tongue, teeth. Christi's eyes locked on mine. "I am so fucking horny. So...are...you."

Her hips began to move again. 

"Just this once, just this Christmas, I am that stranger at the door. That horny stranger, appearing in your life to fulfill your deepest desire and hers. She's bringing your long lost baby girl back to you."

I could feel my cock sliding between my daughter's swollen soaked lips, part way inside her. "You said it yourself: I am the best present ever. You unwrapped me. Now love me. Love that horny stranger with the titties you want to suck so bad. Fuck her hard with that big fat cock. She brought your baby home, give her the reward she needs so bad."

It was too much. I pushed upward against her. I felt the head begin to slip in, but it started to meet too much resistance and popped out and up. Christi reached one hand down between us and wrapped her fingers around my shaft.

I reached up and grabbed one, then another, perfect tit. I thumbed over two tiny pink nubbins. My daughter's hips lifted slightly as she lined me up. My fat cockhead slipped into place under her guidance, between her lips, ready to force them apart.

She radiated heat. I wanted her so bad. I slipped inside as she lowered herself. Or the head slipped inside. She hovered there, almost squatting, still holding me in her hand. She blew out a long controlled breath as her eyes looked toward the ceiling in concentration.

She raised up, dropped down again. So tight. She could only add another inch perhaps of shaft this time. She felt wet. Very wet in fact. She was just tight. And nervous.

She started to move up and down on just those few endmost inches. My daughter was fucking her pussy with the head of my cock. With her magnificent breasts in my hands.

"That's it, baby girl. Fuck your tight little pussy. Get it ready to take that big cock."

I smiled. "Just this once."

She looked down at me and smiled back. Her face relaxed. "Yeah. Just this once."

She bounced down then harder on me, easing her fingers' grip on my shaft. My head pushed aside inner walls deeper inside her, forcing her open under her own weight. 

Raising up, she dropped down again, forcing me further in. Her head rolled back as she groaned, followed by another controlled exhale, as though she was trying to get through sensations bordering on too intense to handle.

I can't remember ever being squeezed like that. I was still not all the way inside her, but it felt as though every inch of me was gripped, compressed, massaged inside of her. Not just in a limited area, like lips or a tongue or even an ass can squeeze. This was up and down almost my entire length, from the tip first separating her innermost walls, over the entire circumference of my sensitive ridge pressing her wide, and down the shaft like a magical eight fingered hand.

I reached up to touch her again. The beautiful young stranger riding my cock arched downward to press her breasts into my hands. Her hand left its final token grip on the root of my cock. 

She brought both hands down to support her above me and lowered a nipple to my mouth. Or tried.

I moved between her perfect mounds instead. I could feel her soft firm flesh to either side of my face as I sniffed her, nuzzled her. Lightly kissed her.

First in the center, over her sternum. Then tracing to the left, I followed the plane of her skin as it curved outward from her torso. I could taste her sweat, and a trace of my cum she had rubbed in there. 

She sighed. She moaned. She fucked her tight little pussy down on my cock. But the last inch or so refused to fit inside her. Neither one of us seemed to mind.

As badly as I wanted to attack those incredibly cute little nipples, I held back. There was so much to explore. My arms were around her, holding my face tight against her.

As she pushed down on me again, I scraped my teeth against that wonderful curve between breast and chest. My bite held open and teeth pressing into her, I flicked the compressed flesh between with my tongue. Instead of rising back up, she groaned, and ground her hips in circles on me. My cock rubbed both of us in new places in new ways deep inside her.

She pushed herself back, tearing my face from its worship of her full young cleavage. She shifted so she could lay down on me, her chest pressed to mine, her face again buried by my neck and ear.

She continued to fuck me, keeping me deep and moving in and out with only the slightest of withdrawals. Her lips began to kiss at my neck, just below my ear.

"Just." Kiss.

"This." Kiss.

"Once." Kiss.

"I'm going to tell you a secret." Kiss. Nuzzle. Kiss.

"You're not," Kiss. Soft moan. "fucking a stranger."

Kiss. "You're fucking your hot sexy daughter."

I groaned then. A nibble on my ear.

Her voice sounded more strained, less controlled.

"Just." Kiss. 

"This." Nibble.

"Once." Kiss.

"My daddy's using his fat cock," the strain was more evident. Kiss. "to stretch open..."

Kiss. "Oh god!"

Kiss. Kiss. "To stretch open his daughter's..."

Her teeth bit my lobe and held it as her belly pressed hard down into me. I felt her body tighten in my arms.

"His daughter's..." A frantic whining kiss.

"tight...fucking...cuhhh!"

Her back arched as my cock was squeezed in a death grip, as though her body was trying to suck it in and squirt it out at the same time. Christi screamed, only partly muffled against my neck.

I could feel her breath, loud and wet in my ear as she struggled for oxygen through her nostrils and then gasping in air through her mouth. The gasp became another tortured cry against me as she continued to spasm and contract along my shaft, twisting and struggling in my arms. 

I had moved one hand down around her waist and onto her ass and the other up as I held her to me. I gripped her neck and pushed her down to meet might my thrusts up into her pulsing heat.

Eventually her breathing slowed. 

"Baby?" I got her attention. "Hold on to me."

I tightened my grip on her waist and across her upper body, then heaved our combined weight up and over. She slipped out of my grasp and my cock out of hers, just before I was able to set her down. I landed between her legs, above her.

"Oww! Daddy!" I saw her cringe in pain, unable to figure out why. I wasn't even inside her now.

"My foot."

"Oh, baby, I'm so sorry." I apologized. I had completely forgotten her sutured heel, which she had carefully protected by keeping it pointed away from me and the bed. Until I flipped us over.

I gingerly cupped her shapely calf in my hand and lifted her leg. Some part of the rich blend of our combined scent which filled the air now brought my mind back to the way she had looked when I cradled her calf on the couch. When I had glimpsed her shaved smoothness where her bikini bottom had been pushed aside.

Lightly, I kissed on her bandaged foot, making it better. She cooed up at me.

I looked down at my beautiful daughter. Gorgeous naked young body, radiant face looking up at me. Shiny hair strewn across the pillow around her. 

I held one leg high, my cock standing straight out over her wide open crotch. Her breasts stood out proud on her chest, forced outward by gravity as little as could be considering their size.

I felt in awe of this magnificent creature. That something so amazing could be the offspring of my mortal loins. That I was about to shove myself back into her loins, so hot and tight. So wrong and so right.

Just this once.

With my free hand, I guided the aching hard head of my cock to her opening. 

Once the head was back inside her, I pulled her other leg up, holding both at shoulder height but wider.

My gaze traveled from the mesmerizing sight of my cock disappearing into my daughter's perfect slit, up over her smooth belly and mouth watering chest, noticing how heavy her breathing was, to finally find her upturned face.

Her mouth was open, her eyes a mixture of nervous anticipation and adoring love directed up at her father. The father who took that moment of connection when their eyes met to push both her legs higher toward her head and slam into her very exposed pussy.

She was just as tight, and squeezed me just as hard as when she had ridden me to her own orgasm. But the angle was different now, and the one with the cock, the bigger and stronger one, was on top and in charge.

My hands on her calves became the crook of my elbows holding her bent knees as I shoved myself into her, pulling her hips and her tight opening up to me. 

For the first time, I felt her open enough to allow my entire length in. I kept moving forward, kept hauling her legs and hips back and up, until I felt myself buried deep, fully inside, pressed hard against my daughter's belly.

Her head went back as her eyes rolled upwards. I heard a sort of growl come from deep in her throat. I hesitated, savoring the feeling of being completely engulfed in her heaven, before pulling out until my head felt cool air and then slamming home again. The growl went up an octave.

I began to pump in and out of my daughter. I took her. I took my pleasure of her. Again and again I felt myself sinking balls deep into her as she continued her guttural cry.

"Daddy." She whispered, between groans. "Yes, Daddy. Fuck me. Fuck your horny little girl."

My breath was quickening and my balls were tight. She could tell how close I was. I looked down at my daughter.

"Daddy's close baby, are you on..."

Her eyes came back to focus on mine. She nodded to answer my question. "Yes, Daddy."

She brought her hands up to run through my hair. I felt fingers massaging at the base of my skull. The tightness in my balls increased.

"Yes, Daddy. Just this once." She smiled up at me. "Just this once I want to feel the man who loves me bestest, the best daddy ever, fuck me until he pumps his precious little girl full of his cum."

I cried out like a soul lost. Like an animal. I don't know if it was anguish or ecstasy.

I buried myself to the root in this magnificent, forbidden present. This beautiful sexy stranger. My beloved daughter returned to me. I exploded inside her as a bright white light exploded behind my eyes. 

I was gasping. I was thrusting. I was somehow pressing down on top of her, long smooth arms and legs wrapping me up tight. My ears rang, and pulsed with the pounding of my heartbeat. And I continued my now punctuated wordless cry.

I gradually caught my breath, found my mind. Christi's kisses on my temple helped me focus. I realized I had slobbered on her shoulder and neck after I started to lift my head.

I looked at her. Her eyes were searching my face anxiously, as though to check on my well being, or perhaps to see if I was suddenly disgusted with our taboo insanity. She looked relieved as I can't imagine she saw anything other than addled adoration in how I looked at her.

But I needed to make sure she knew.

"I love you, sweetheart." I lightly kissed her lips as I saw tears start to well up in her eyes. Funny, but it felt odd to kiss my daughter's lips, even while I lay naked on top of her, buried still in her wet pussy.

"You do?"

"Yes, baby, I do. More than anyone, more than anything. I always have and I always will."

Her chin trembled but she forced a smile. "Just this once?"

"No, not just this once. Always. Always and forever. I love you."

Christi squealed then. She lifted up her head and kissed me. Her lips tugged on my lower lip before she backed away to look me in the eyes again. I could see her pupils search rapidly back and forth between my two eyes, as though confirming the truth.

I assume she liked what she saw, because she kissed me again. Her lips opened and her tongue gently teased mine. I kissed her back. Not as a father kisses a daughter. As a man kisses a woman. A gorgeous woman he loves deeply and has found again after thinking her lost forever.

We lost ourselves in that kiss and each other. 

If it had to be just this once, I hoped this moment never ended.

 
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