Incest and rape are wrong, and should only happen in fiction, which is this.

He slipped into her room one night. She just stood there for a long time, taking in the sight of her daughter's face and feet sticking out of her sheets. She had been the crush of his life ever since her wife died giving birth to her. He had cared for her, provided for her, made her the center of her existence. He had no intention of remarrying, or even having relationships outside of the one he had created with his wife, now deceased. Instead, he had poured all the love and devotion he had had for her into her love and devotion to her daughter.
He had never seen her as anything other than her beautiful and precious daughter. She was everything to him. Everything he had, he would give it to her in a heartbeat.
And so it had been, for a long time. A long time.
He then he left. He was happy to see her grow from the foundation he had laid, she loved to see how she stood out. But from the first few weeks porntsunami.com after she moved in that summer, he began to realize that in addition to pride, achievement, and hope, he felt another emotion that he wasn't proud of. She had never failed to show appreciation for all the good things he did for her. He knew that she was grateful for the advantages he had given her. And yet there was a small voice, growing louder and louder as the months passed, and growing louder even though he told himself the voice wasn't being fair or rational. "How do you dare?" was what the voice wanted to shout. "How could he leave me?"
And now, for a few days, she was back. She didn't need a car, so he had driven his own to pick her up from her bedroom. It was during the long drive back that he first noticed her legs.
Their visit was perfectly normal, a banal family visit, and as they talked and as he drove her from the restaurant to the mall to a friend's house and so on, it became increasingly difficult to stop thinking and take her eyes off his. she. her legs. And then the belly that he loved to show off. Her beautiful long neck.
The swell of her breasts.
The wonderful, charming, funny and intelligent face of hers.
And, to his surprise, he felt no guilt. She was beautiful, who could deny that? During her brief stay, why not enjoy what he now apparently had to offer?
Today, her last day at her house for this short vacation, he had taken her to a farewell dinner he organized with her friends. The girls laughed and pretended to flirt with each other and the waiters, while he smiled and remained relatively quiet, not wanting to be the old man who ruins the "vibe."
His daughter looked at him from time to time. He felt more and more secure. She was looking at him, not to communicate, not to share a moment of comfort or connection. She was looking at him. She watching him watch them. Watch her.
He hadn't wanted to think it out loud to himself but, dressed her. It was shorter than he had to be. It was a lower cut letmejerk.fun than he needed to be. She left her back bare, he believed she was clearly not wearing a bra.
She knew that he would be at the meeting. Why dress like this? Why watch him so closely tonight?
On the way home they were both silent. This was unusual. Why was he silent? Why was she?
Her shoulder strap on her right side, he certainly wasn't being careless enough to leave the one in front of him on her shoulder. But the one far away from him, the one he plausibly didn't seem to notice, had fallen, and she hadn't done anything to correct it.
When he hugged her goodnight, when she ended the hug, she cupped her face in her hands, almost motherly. "Thanks dad, it was a wonderful night." She leaned down and he almost flinched, backed away, ran away… and she bent her head down a little and kissed his forehead. Just as it had seemed at the beginning of the gesture: motherly.
She went to bed and he was left alone, reflecting on the long and painful journey that would take her away from him tomorrow.
And here he was, now, while she slept, sizing her up like never before.
She took a step forward. Carefully, carefully. She took the sheet off him.
He was surprised and pleased to discover that there was nothing else to keep her warm, not a single piece of clothing. His daughter, like his wife before her, apparently preferred to sleep naked. Or, she was beginning to allow herself to be suspicious, maybe she didn't usually do it.
She lay on her back, one arm behind her head and the other stretched out over the edge of her. This drew her chest up. Her breast, as beautiful as she had begun to imagine. He allowed her gaze (her heart rate was increasing enormously along with another part of himself) to rest there for a while. He allowed her imagination to kiss her breasts, caress hers pzones.
Then she continued her imaginary journey down, touching her tight belly in her mind, he could almost feel her leaning down to kiss her bare pubes. Similar to the way his arm was outstretched, so were his legs, one bent at the knee to curl under the other, but the effect of this was to open his hips for him, to invite him to consider what was coming. there was between them. Why did she shave it herself? How long had that been going on?
As much as a part of him revolted at the thought of a man seeing his own daughter that way, for so long, though, he continued to watch, her belly slowly rising and falling behind the new spotlight. yearning for him.
He kept going, wanting not to miss anything.
In his imagination he brushed against her long legs and caressed her feet.
And he finally looked her in the face again. Even asleep, her expression exuded confidence. Was he dreaming of her future, of a future he had envisioned for her, filled with achievement and dominance? A future in which she slid to the top and looked down on those she had left behind, her lower ones?
She knew she would do this, but she had banished all thought of him until she did it. And now, he was kissing her feet. Tenderly, she worked beegfuck.com her way up, trying not to breathe, but insisting on feeling her legs with her lips.
He told himself that he could do those things without waking her up, if he was careful.
He also wondered intensely how she would react when he woke up. How would he express the desire that he had been expressing and encouraging tonight?
He was kissing her shins, her thighs, her iliac crest. Her pubes.
He lay there for a while, gently, aware that any force would cause an awakening, and knowing that he had to work hard not to intend that to happen.
He moved on, finally, after resisting a surprising urge to kiss those nearby lips, only to cast aside caution and begin to probe with his tongue.
He continued up, kneeling beside her, kissing her belly, her ribs. Her chest. He risked the smallest touch of her lips on her nipples. She still hadn't woken up!
He moved closer to kiss her shoulders, her neck. Her cheeks. He stared at her with uncomfortable lust, her eyes inches from her face, able to take in every detail.
He stood up and was surprised at what he had accomplished so far. His thoughts turned to the door.
Her hands went to her belt.
He undressed silently and, carefully, cautiously, he climbed as discreetly as he could onto her bed, over her body.
And now her face was upon his. His legs, one bent at the knee, began to move smoothly with his own legs until his penis—yes, he insisted on emphasizing to himself, his father's penis—was in position to enter. He knew this, eventually he would start to wake her up, and he was ready. He knew she would respond lovingly to her acknowledgment of his silent communications earlier in the evening. But even if she didn't respond positively, he was determined now.
Trembling a little, he placed her left knee in the crux of her bent right knee and began to push her sister's shin away from her.
And finally, lazily, he opened his eyes. He had decided, and carried out her resolve, not to look away from her at this point, to show how firm and loving her intentions were, to respect her gaze by keeping his.
He waited for her relieved smile to begin. He seemed to be taking in the situation. The head of his father's penis was now touching the spot that she would now gladly open for him.
But, without a smile, instead of a smile, he opened his mouth and spoke. It wasn't what he said that surprised him, but the way he said it. Cool, calm, determined, unflappable.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
She realized that she was so serene that she must have been awake for quite some time. She was ready for him. Had xhamstergo.com she felt every exciting kiss? From her feet, to her pubis, to her chest, to her neck? Had she just stood there silently, letting him do it? Did this confirm her invitation?
But now there was nothing tempting in her face. Accompanying her angry words and tone was an annoying squint, a squint that lived on the verge of anger.
He opened his mouth to speak. He had mentally rehearsed for this. He had to be firm but gentle. He would be clear and explicit about the subtext of her interactions tonight. Even if she denied it, he would make her see that she owed him, if in fact her looks and the way she dressed were a deception.
He had decided that he would not take no for an answer. But he was also sure that he wouldn't listen to any of them. She was going to be happy that he was giving her this gift, and if she wasn't, he was sure she was.he would convince her to agree, to understand, perhaps even to be pleased to perform this service.
If not immediately, she would eventually see that she was as much to him as he was to her.
That's what happened in rehearsal.
However, when she opened her mouth to speak, "I, uh, well, I think it's about time, I mean, this is, we have to, I mean, you have to-uh…"
By then it was too late. She suddenly gave an almost comical cry.
Her hands closed tighter over his balls. He was suddenly trying to get away from her when a second before he had decided to be inside her. But he couldn't escape, couldn't indianpornvideos.pro even try. It would just make him increase the pressure on her balls. She had it, he couldn't move. So he froze.
She increased the pressure and he groaned, not even aware of the embarrassment and embarrassment he should be feeling right now.
Her daughter looked at him angrily, her eyes narrowed and a strange smile on her mouth. "We fucked," she said.
"DAD", she continued deliberately.
"When I SAY let's fuck." She squeezed harder.
"On my terms. Do you hear me, asshole?"
Eyes closed, mouth tight with her pain, she nodded as best she could, weakly.
She pushed him by the balls, which hurt even more than what he had been doing before, but at least it relieved the pressure. She slid off the bed, her knees on the floor, but before she could regain her composure, she sat up and put her legs on either side of him. She grabbed him by the hair. She held his gaze. Now he had a moment to look at her again.
Her powerful, youthful, masterful body was more desirable than ever.
She was holding him in her place. Certainly he was stronger than her, but she had him by her hair and escaping from her hands would not only hurt, but would involve an utterly embarrassing struggle to escape the hands of her little daughter. . And what could she do next, anyway? He stood still.
For a moment he allowed her to look her up and down. With one hand he held her hair, with the other he parted her pussy lips. It was incredible: he almost came on the spot to see her daughter doing this.
And then she began to push her face toward her, and said the words:
"Suck my pussy, asshole."
And he complied. She closed her legs around his neck and locked him in her place.
He had imagined, in response to the secret flirtation he was sure they engaged in all night, that they could indianxxxvideo.pro spend a long night together. And they did. His daughter had certainly been ready. Very clever, just as she had hoped.
As she had expected, but not as she had expected. As her expectations of him became less and less like reality, his heart sank lower and lower, but what else could he do now but obey?
Later that night she finally allowed him to put her penis inside her. But only after making her cum several times. He would make her come from her with her tongue, or she would make her come from her while he licked her ass. Then she would pull him to him and play with her penis and her nipples until she was almost ready to come, explaining to him how ridiculous and old she looked. And then she would send him back to her pussy, fucking her face one more time until she came again.
This continued until he finally got bored. He was tickling her cock one last time that night, snickering at her every move. After a couple of distracted sighs, he rolled his eyes.
"Okay, whatever. If you have to do it, do it now and get away from me."
She frowned at him, then leaned back and looked up at the ceiling, rolling her eyes again, ignoring him, grabbing her phone and paying attention to seemingly anything else. Cautiously, slowly, as if it couldn't be true, he slid from her daughter's side to stand on top of her. She didn't take her eyes off his phone.
It was on her vaginal lips. The tremor in her arms, in her entire body, came not from a lack of strength or stamina, but from the sheer audacity of what she was about to do, and the emotion that accompanied it.
There was no connection to her. This was not an expression of love, or any kind of emotion at all. All the courage that she had accumulated in the thought of this moment, all evaporated with her face turned to the side thinking of everything in the world but him. He was a disgusting man wearing a body, nothing more. What he was about to do, he could have done with a mannequin. Realizing so truly what he was doing, he felt ashamed.
His story about himself had evaporated, and he was still as ready, even smarter, than ever to finally just fuck his daughter's body without faking it. And so he did.
He could see perhaps the slightest sign of discomfort passacross her face as he began to push his cock xxxlib.me firmly into her pussy. As he entered, his eyes widened for the tiniest fraction of a second, and his pelvis moved slightly into place beneath him, before he once again retreated to his phone, laughing at her. something I was reading.
When he tried to kiss her, she slapped him, saying, "That's disgusting, hurry up or you won't finish," and then, with a sort of triumphant taunt, he finished the sentence, "DAD."
She continued to fuck obediently, trying to assimilate her experience, to engrave in her mind the feel of her daughter's vagina warming the length of her cock. Without thinking, an instinct born of previous intercourse decades ago, she leaned down and kissed her nipple. So she grabbed him by the hair, scratched his face viciously, and said, "Hit two, you dumbass. Damn. Bitch."
She grunted and groaned, "I'm sorry," and she knew she better not fuck this up again or she'd never be allowed to finish. She scoffed and went back to her phone.
She only showed more signs of awareness of what was going on as he began to ejaculate inside her. She glanced at him briefly, a look of annoyance and disgust on her face, then looked up at the ceiling, rolled her eyes and just whispered 'ew'.
When he finished her ejaculation, he began to fall on her, breathless, imagining her sperm working its way deep into her own daughter's reluctant evexxx.me womb. Before her body could make any more contact with hers, he scratched his chest and rib cage roughly, saying, "Jesus, no, get away from me, you disgusting piece of shit!"
He rolled off her, face open like a fish, trying to catch his breath from her.
He didn't know what the rest of the story might be. His head full of thoughts, somehow triumphant, regretful and defeated at the same time, he asked "What…now…" between gasps.
"God," he said, looking down meaningfully, "You obviously clean up your mess."
After she made him wipe her own cum from her pussy with her mouth, and made him give her another orgasm, he collapsed onto her back.
He gasped and said with a frown, "Seriously, you're the worst, 'dear father'. You were going to what, rape your own daughter, 'Dad?'"
In silence, he told the truth. "Yes."
"Yeah, fuck you. I let you do it this time basically because I was bored and curious to see if you could pull something off, but no. You could have at least made it fun. That was fucking boring dad. It felt like nothing."
She sat up and brought her face close to his where he was sitting on her bed trying to make himself as small as possible. She pushed his body back toward the edge of the bed.
"Okay motherfucker, this is what will happen every time I let you make me come," she said. And she pushed him off her bed. She fell to the ground. "You will speak only when spoken to, and you will sleep there when it is over."
The floor was cold linoleum. He was naked. I had no pillow.
"From now on, you will never cum, never have sex with anyone, let alone me, without my saying so. Do you understand?"
The door was open, he could walk out. But then what?
"I understand."
She smiled. "Ma'am daughter. That's what you call me from now on."
Her voice trembled. "Yes, madam daughter. I understand, madam daughter."
"I may never let you fuck me again. I may never let you fuck anyone, or cum in any way, and you'll obey because if you don't, I'll tell the police you're a fucking rapist."
He cried. "Yes, madam daughter."
"Fine" she said after a second. "Okay. You know how much I'd like to just kick you into the ground, over and over right now. But I know you'd like it so much."
Without a word, she turned around, knowing full well that he wasn't going anywhere. Except for telling him to stop crying at one point, she proceeded to ignore him for the rest of the night. She stayed on her phone, texting her friends for a long time.
And so she slept, on the cold, hard floor, under the foot of her daughter's bed.
She fell asleep thinking about the horrible things that her loving daughter could do from now on. She slept knowing the real reason she wouldn't leave, the reason she could leave him at will and he could never leave her. She fell asleep knowing there was no escape, because there was no desire to escape. She had said it many times in the past.
Everything he had truly belonged to her.