This is a sequel to "Reach For The Star". As previously, the story is told by both characters, as well as narration.
As ever, please vote and make comments. Thanks, once again, to my editor LadyCibelle.
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What have I done? I have been weak, very weak. It was beautiful when we made love. But she is my daughter and men aren't supposed to fuck their little girls. Okay, I
know
there are all those internet sites where it does happen, but they are made up aren't they? Just fantasy...and I crossed a line. I made it reality. We actually made love; Fucked. No...it was love.
Is
love. But it was still wrong. I should have been stronger. If only I hadn't gone upstairs with her.
I haven't been to work for a few days, taking some overdue time off. I needed time to think. Think about what to do. But I keep thinking back to that day. She was modelling her new panties for me, including that flimsy thing I had chosen for her. I should have known she'd want me to see what it looked like. But how was I to know she'd shaved herself? Shaved her sweet little pussy for her daddy. How was I to know I'd be tempted by the way the thong moulded its way over her plump little mound?
When she made me feel the material, I should have left it at that. I could have left it that when the interruption came. I could have stopped things before she slid her hand into my pants and held my cock, but how many men would stop a girl at that point? It felt so good and seemed so natural that Chantal wanted to please her daddy. Just like I wanted to please her when I pleasured her orally moments later. We were lovers, then, not father and daughter. The mistake was going upstairs. Okay, we'd still done plenty by then. But I hadn't been inside her. I hadn't, as yet, taken her precious virginity.
She wanted me to be her first. I felt honoured...still do. But that's no excuse and in the time that elapsed before getting up those stairs, I could have called a halt, should have stopped things from going further than was already too far. I should turn myself in. But Chantal won't allow me to take the blame, so what would that do? Expose her as the girl who seduced her father and then she'd be on her own, that's what.
She is behaving as if nothing happened. Well...that's not strictly true. I should say she is carrying on as if it's the most natural thing in the world for fathers to screw their daughters. She even crept into my bed, every morning since...until today. Three mornings ago, I woke to find her snuggled up behind me. It was just like old times, when she was much younger. But then I realised her arm was over my hip; her hand wrapped lightly around my cock as she was softly stroking me.
I was lost in the pleasure of it all as I began fucking my erection between her smooth fingers. Then she said, "Yes daddy...come on...you know you want to. Does my hand feel good there?"
Her voice brought me to my senses and I threw the bedclothes back. I looked down to see she hadn't let go of me; my hard shaft dwarfing her small hand, her forefinger wet from the pre-cum glistening on the tip of my cock.
I eased her hand from my penis, slowly. She was reluctant to release me and, as guilty as I was feeling, I didn't need more pain. I told her it wasn't right.
Huffily she retorted, "So why were you hard then, daddy? You were soft when I got into your bed." Then, more calmly, she continued. "I was stroking your for a couple of minutes and you became so stiff and smooth. You must have been enjoying it. I thought you were going to ejaculate when you started to thrust into my hand. Look, daddy, look at the head."
I had already seen, but I looked again. I felt self-conscious, naked and in bed with my daughter, with my cock curving along my belly. I slid to the edge of the bed and stood up. I hoped my erection would subside, but looking down at her made it throb helplessly as I took in her breasts and that smooth area between her thighs that I had licked just days ago.
She smiled up at me. "How can you argue with that?" she laughed pointing at it. "You want me, don't you...and I want you. How can it be wrong?"
"You know it's not right," I began as I was reaching for my boxers. "We shouldn't be doing this."
I made it to the bathroom without having to answer more impossible questions.
It was much the same the following mornings and it was driving me mad with frustration. I was so close to orgasm from my daughter's talented fingers. I tried to finish myself off, but no sooner had I begun, images of Chantal filled my head and I stopped, reasoning the last thing I should do was to cum while picturing my sweet girl.
I retreated to my office downstairs. It had been days since I used my computer as I hadn't wanted to be reminded of what started this. But now I needed to be away from temptation and I needed release. Better to come from my stories and images there than with my daughter. Or so I thought...but the moment I found something to 'assist' me and I began to feel a more innocent pleasure, was the moment my mind began downloading images of Chantal; images with a soundtrack on which she begged me to fuck her. I turned off the computer. If only I could delete the last few days, everything would be okay.
This morning I dreamed we had sex again; made love; fucked. Call it what you will. She pleaded with me and I gave her what she wanted. What we both wanted. Her silky pussy split apart by my thrusting cock as I moved inside her.
I awoke, feeling a kind of relief, but not release. I have no idea why she didn't come to me like the previous mornings.