If you are not a grown, consenting adult, then this story is not for you. If you find erotic material containing incestuous, sacreligious, and coercion, disturbing and/or offensive, then this story is not for you. To the rest of you: I hope you enjoy my mediocre writing and tell me if you found it pleasurable, and part II will be on it's way!
*****
I grew up in a loving, moderately conservative Christian household in Tennessee. My Daddy was the preacher for the most popular church in town. Our household was pretty peaceful and life was fairly quiet and decent. I had grown up active in the community—swimming lessons, church choir, and YMCA activities. I was a good kid and my parents were loving. Life, really, was fairly ideal.
My Momma and Daddy had a decent and tender marriage. Momma was a gentle woman, but Daddy was also such a gentleman, and looking back on it, I can speculate on how repressed they probably were in the bedroom! I think it partly had to do with their similarly quiet, retiring nature, and it partly had to do with the age difference. Momma idolized Daddy—still does in a way! They met in a Christian social club for single people. They are 18 years apart in age. While Momma looked up to Daddy and loved him, Daddy loved her as a wife and liked having someone to care for as a dependent. Momma had me in their first year of marriage, when she was 19 years old. Daddy, however, was 37 at the time. Today, it's my Momma who is 37. I am 18, and my Daddy is 55. We are a nice looking family.
Daddy's side is fairly average. He is not homely by any means, but a bit out of fashion--his salt and pepper hair is parted in the middle and slightly feathery on the sides, without being too long. He is neat and clean in his appearance. But I had never lusted after my Daddy in our first 18 years together! Daddy has wide shoulders and a moderate paunch around the belt line. I knew from swimming by the pool that he had moderately hairy chest that was now graying. Like I said, I had never wanted my father sexually. But I must admit, even back then, I did
admire
his legs—they were hairy as most men's are--but also very muscular from his former football days, or from genetics. I'm guessing on that one, cause it's not like he works out a lot. Daddy doesn't watch his diet, which accounts for the paunch, but he is a big-framed man. Strong—with big soft hands. I didn't lust after him. I didn't know better. I had no inkling of the feelings of lust he was just beginning to have for my budding body. The thought of "having sex" with my Daddy would have frightened and repulsed me a year ago. Now I am free to say I pleasure my preacher. I fuck my Daddy. What happened about a year ago made turning away from it impossible.
Momma is a very pretty lady. She doesn't look a day over 35. She's got long wavy dark hair, and dark brown eyes, and high, delicately boned features. She has full soft lips—that's where I get them, and pale, pretty skin. She's very fit at 5'7&1/2" and 135 lbs. She has a supple, bit rounded backside—just enough for a man to get a nice handful, and full soft breasts. Her breasts went from a B cup to nearly a D cup after she had me! Mine aren't so big. They are a pert handful—about the size of a half a grapefruit.
Where Momma is pretty and soft, my body is hot and tight—from slight athleticism. Where Momma is pale, I have tan features from sunning out by the pool. I take after my Dad's people and have light blond, long hair. I am shorter than Momma at 5'4&3/4" and very petite. I am 18, like I said, but look a bit younger for my age, as I was a late bloomer L. But I didn't know what a cocktease I had been in recent years with this body, crystal blue eyes, and my lips that were made for cocksucking. Hey, why be modest!
My family was moderately conservative, like I said, but I was a bit tainted at age 18. I was a senior in high school, and had been actually very close—enough to be engaged--to my less than patient boyfriend. Grappling sessions in the car had led to a bit more finesse in fucking, and I liked it. I didn't do it often, but I was no virgin. I struggled with being raised against pre-marital sex, but I rationalized that my boyfriend and I were serious enough that it made it less of a sin, in my eyes.
Mom and Dad had some difficulties in the physical aspect of their marital relations for the first 18 years, partly because of their gentleness, and partly because of age, like I said. But one other issue had been a slight bone of contention in our household—not enough that anyone wanted to raise a fuss--was that Momma was always her parent's baby—didn't seem like she ever cut those apron strings. And it seemed at times like she was more a part of her parent's family than she was a part of our own! Life would just get too stressful for her; she'd take off and spend time at my Grammie and Grandaddie's house. She didn't feel well, off to her Momma and Daddy's house.
Grammie is a beautiful woman. She had my Momma when she was only 18! I can't imagine it…She's the same age as my Daddy, obviously. Grandaddie on the other hand is 65. I guess you could say that the women in my family have a fondness for older men J. Grammie has always believed in fitness like my Momma—she looks more like Momma's older sister. They look kind of alike except my grandma's a bit chubbier for her height ‘cause of her age—but she isn't really out of shape by any means. Grandaddie is a handsome stately man. He
really
doesn't watch his diet though! He likes Grammies cookin'…He has a kind of beer belly without drinking. He's average height, with nearly white hair and kinda balding—he's got an attractive full moustache. He is like a handsome teddy bear.
They have a lovely ol', ramblin' farmhouse further out in the country. On the rare occasions when I visited, I had fond memories of good home cooked food, warm quilts and the beauty of the farm around me. It wasn't that I wasn't welcome there! No! It's just that I visited as often as most teenagers, whereas Momma visited nearly every month! ‘Sides, Daddy and I had a good father-daughter relationship at the time, and I must admit I had a little resentment toward my mother and her parents back then on account of all the time she spent away from us—almost like she was rejecting us in a small, but not hateful way. I guess for eighteen years, our family was close, but not too awful close. All that was about to change.
It changed with me and Daddy one frightening night in late July. It was dreadful hot and we didn't have a great air conditioner. They say most suicides are committed in December, most crimes in July.
About 3 p.m. my mouth was covered with an inhaled anesthetic that I learned was probably stolen the local hospital. I was a lightweight and passed out nearly immediately. I don't know if I was injected with something, but I suspect it. All I know for sure is I had a pounding head the next day, and was worried, but the side effects of my sedation wore off in a few days. A similar thing happened to Daddy, but apparently not the injection, as he did not share the side effect that I did and his confusion and fogginess was not present during the following events. They couldn't lift Daddy, I guess, so they took me into his room. When I came to, I could see the guns, and was deeply terrified but so foggy that I felt a little more numb and detached, I think, than I would have been otherwise...
There were three men. Each of them had a scary-featured mask of an ex-president. One was shorter but the others were rather large. All one guy was allowed to do the whole time was cover us with that gun. The other two had set up some audiovisual equipment. Next I noticed the chill despite my sweat. My night shift had been removed! I was cold and naked except for my white bikini panties. My small nipples had hardened like little candies. Then to my utmost dismay, I noticed with shame, that not only was my Daddy in the room—a gun pointed defiantly at him--but also I was hot and wet in my neatly trimmed pussy.
The men were chuckling and I heard the sound of a young woman moaning and giggling as they ran something on their television. The taller man at the video equipment had begun to stroke his short cock. The man sitting at the chair, the shorter bald one, with the grumpy Nixon mask, had his hard fat cock exposed and chuckled deep flopping it mockingly up and down.
To my horror, I gasped as I realized that the woman being pleasured on the TV was me! Half unconscious, I lay there while the man with the short cock in the Regan mask tickled and molested my pussy. They were all laughing.
"She has such a pretty little pussy, Doesn't she Pops?" He said in the video. I couldn't cry because I was just too numb from sedation, but a slight lump in my throat formed as I watched and realized my Daddy had been forced to watch silently, through my giggling and whimpering as they had toyed with me.
I said, "Lick me, Bobby"—the name of my boyfriend—on the video
playback.
