Hannah Ch 01

All characters in this work of fiction are over the age of 18.

This story contains graphic taboo sex. If this is different than your tastes, I encourage you to find stories from any of the other great authors on this site

Special thanks to HotandHollow for their assistance in editing and as well as creative suggestions. The work of HotandHollow and all of the volunteer editors on Literotica is greatly appreciated.

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"Good morning sleepy head." My naked wife stood in the doorway to our master bathroom. I cocked one eye open, looking at her firm body as she towel dried her hair. "Are you going to get up or not?" Putting down the towel, she walked over to the bed.

I jumped a little when her cold hand dug under the covers, invading the warm cocoon of blankets to grab my cock. I closed my eyes as her hand wrapped around my flaccid cock.

"Did someone have too much to drink and too much sex last night?" Her playful tone was accompanied by a few tugs on my cock.

I closed my eyes tighter, hoping that ignoring her would make her stop, but I knew it would only encourage her to torture me in more devious ways, but I did it anyways. I thought she was going to suck my cock when she pulled the covers off me with her other hand. I've been married to my wife long enough that I shouldn't have been surprised when she stuck her tongue in my belly button and made a motorboat sound. "Fucking Hell! Stop that!"

I pushed my wife's head away from my belly and told her that I'd get up. As she turned, I slapped her ass before she could head back to the bathroom. The sound of wet skin being slapped filled the bedroom and she yelped a little.

It would be another thirty minutes before I emerged from the bedroom, freshly showered and clean shaven. I didn't hear my youngest daughter in her room, but that is not an uncommon occurrence. Emma is 18 and a senior in high school. It's possible that she was texting with her cheerleader friends or listening to music while surfing the internet. Most likely, she was still asleep. The kid has a knack for making it home before her one-in-the-morning curfew with only minutes to spare, and then sleeping till noon on Saturday.

Walking into the kitchen, I found it empty. I wondered about my oldest, Hannah. I expected her to be up early and studying since Spring quarter midterms were scheduled for next week. I turned on the coffee machine and waited for the water to heat up. As I was waiting to make myself a cup, I noticed the empty cereal bowl in the sink. I thought to myself that Hannah must already be up and had gone back to her room to study.

I pulled out another mug, put another coffee pod into the machine, and pressed the button. Pouring in some creamer, I grabbed the mug and headed towards the basement. I walked down the stairs, into my newly renovated basement.

Looking up at the hallway light, I reminded myself that I needed to change the light fixture to one of the new energy efficient LED models. As I stood at the bottom of the stairs, I looked at the freshly painted walls and new carpet. It took me ten years to get motivated enough to finish the basement, but when I finally started, the work went quickly. I knocked on Hannah's door.

"Come in."

I turned the knob and entered my oldest daughter's room.

"Hey, Dad." She was sitting at her desk, looking over her textbooks. She said that she was studying for her microbiology midterm test. Taking the cup when handed it, she smiled and thanked me.

"So, what do you think of the basement?" I guess I was looking for a pat on the back for all of the hard work I'd put in finishing the basement and her room.

"It looks good, Dad. You've done a great job." My oldest daughter turned in her chair. "Did you see what I did with the other room?" That is when my 20-year old pregnant daughter struggled to get up from the chair. At eight months pregnant, it took her more than a few seconds to get up from the desk.

Hannah took me by the hand and led me out of her room. She pushed open the door to the bedroom next to her room and my eyes were assaulted by a bright pink accent wall. "Mom helped me paint the wall yesterday and helped with the butterflies." My daughter was talking about the half dozen or so vinyl pink butterflies stuck on the other walls.

"It looks good, sweetheart." I didn't mention the pink color was triggering my hangover. I needed more water and an aspirin. I kissed my daughter on the forehead and told her that she did a great job painting. "So, are you getting excited? You only have another month until the baby is due. Have you decided on a name yet?" I kept my hand on her shoulder as I stood about a foot from her extended belly.

"Your granddaughter is going to be named Rachel. I finally decided last night. And to answer your question, yes, I can't wait to deliver little Rachel." My daughter said that she and my wife had talked about the delivery process yesterday afternoon. "I just want this to be over so the two of us can be a family."

I reminded my daughter that it wasn't two, but five. I said that her sister, along with her mom and I, would always be there for them. I was proud that my daughter was handling her pregnancy so well.

What was unspoken was her use of the word

two

. The guy that knocked her up fell out of her life about five months into the pregnancy. I was mad and proud at the same moment. Mad that my twenty-year-old daughter got herself pregnant, and proud that she was still in school and determined to graduate next year with a nursing degree.

"I know that you will always be there for us, Dad, but don't fear — Rachel and I will conquer the world."

As I kissed my daughter's forehead one more time, I thought about the loser that had knocked her up. I felt a tinge of guilt not telling Hannah why the loser that got her pregnant suddenly disappeared from her life about three months ago.

I found out through a high school friend, who is now a county sheriff, that the baby's father is in prison for selling drugs and second-degree murder. Apparently, he went to a frat party at a college in the next state over and sold some drugs to some of the kids there. He didn't realize the drugs were spiked with Fentanyl and two young women died. He overdosed as well, and the paramedics found him with the two other women in a sorority house annex. The local police found the drugs and money in his pockets once he was revived at the hospital. Somehow the police had video proof of him selling the drugs to the dead women, so his court-appointed lawyer made a plea deal that sent him to prison for ten years.

I certainly didn't tell my daughter that I approached his parents when I found out what had happened. At first, they thought I was the angry father of one of the girls that overdosed. They were surprised when I told them that their son had knocked up my daughter. When asked about the incident at the fraternity, the parents said that they had disowned their son and were refusing to meet with him, so they didn't have any information about what happened.

They asked about Hannah, but I refused to give them any information about my daughter. I said that I'd be in touch after the baby is born, but until then they were to stay away from my family.

"What do you think of the rocking chair? Are you listening, Daddy?" Hannah pointed to a glider rocking chair sitting in the corner. "Mom and I found it yesterday at a used furniture shop. The white and green floral pattern doesn't go with the room, so mom said that she will sew another cover for it."

"It looks good, sweetheart." Patting Hannah on the back, I told her that I'd let her finish up her studying.

Heading through the basement, I made a mental note to fix the baseboard in the corner of the room by the French doors leading out to the back yard. I also noticed that I still needed to put a second coat of paint on the walls. There were a few spots where I could tell that the primer was showing through. I figured that I'd get to it Sunday, since the women would be out of the house and I didn't want the paint fumes to make Hannah nauseous.

Climbing the stairs, I found my wife sitting in the kitchen, reading the news on her tablet as she ate a plate of fruit and some toast. "What do you have planned for the day?" Looking up from her tablet, she smiled in my direction.

I told her that I'd mow the lawn and likely would put in a couple of hours of work in our home office. I mentioned that I needed to paint downstairs and planned on doing it when she and my daughters went for their weekly 'ladies only' brunch on Sunday. I grabbed a bagel out of the pantry, not bothering to toast it or coat it in cream cheese. I took a big bite from it and washed it down with a gulp of coffee.

About forty-five minutes later I was heading back into the house. Passing through the kitchen, I found my other daughter had emerged from her fortress of solitude and was in the kitchen eating breakfast. Emma was dressed in shorts and a top that I felt was a little too revealing and tight. In reality, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. I guess that I'm being a protective father given how my Emma looks and the fact that I already have one pregnant daughter.

"Hey, Daddy." Emma smiled as she sipped a cup of coffee.

"Hi, Sweetheart. Glad to see that you survived another Friday night." I like to give my daughter a hard time about going out with her friends.

"Daddy, nothing bad is ever going to happen to me. I'm the best-looking cheerleader in the whole school — no one will let anything happen to me."

The smirk on her face irritated me for a moment. Yes, she was the best-looking cheerleader in her whole school. I reminded myself that I can't kill every one of the numerous boys that paraded through my house as they courted my eighteen-year-old daughter. I thought the police might notice the fresh mounds of dirt in my backyard if I killed every guy that came sniffing around Emma.

I asked my daughter what she had planned for the day and she mentioned that she and my wife were heading to the mall. Emma said that she needs a few pairs of shorts and she is still looking for her prom dress. The distinctive eye roll made a Saturday morning appearance when I told her that her dress should be a burlap bag.

"Be careful, Daddy, or I'll buy a little strapless dress that barely covers anything." My daughter batted her eyelashes at me several times and blew me a kiss.

I looked at her and mentioned that I hoped she wouldn't mind the two-hour long drive to the prison. I said that she would need to do that drive every other week in order to visit me after I kill her prom date, whoever he is. This set off a playful round of banter with my younger daughter that ended when my wife emerged from the basement.

"Emma, are you ready to go to the mall?" My wife looked at my daughter who was finishing up her bowl of cereal. Told to hurry up and finish getting ready, Emma gulped down the last of her food and took her coffee mug up to her room.

I looked at my watch and it was almost eleven in the morning when I retreated into my home office to work on some monthly reports. I'd just finished the first report when my wife stuck her head in the door. "We're leaving, honey. Hannah says she doesn't want to go, something about studying for a test."

"How long do you think you'll be?" I looked at my wife who said it could be a few hours since they were still looking for a prom dress. She said goodbye and I returned to the solitude of my reports.

It must have been another thirty minutes and I was just about to hit save on the next spreadsheet, when there was a knock on the doorframe, and I heard my oldest daughter come walking into the room. I was face down in the spreadsheet, so I did not immediately look up.

"Hi, Daddy."

I finally looked up when she called out to me. My mouth just about fell open. Standing in my office was my very pregnant daughter, wearing a sheer negligee, her swollen breasts clearly visible through the white material. She had pulled her hair out of her face, opting to stick her long blonde locks behind her ears. I don't know why, but I instinctively looked down, seeing a small patch of blonde public hair.

Holy Fuck, my daughter is nearly naked.

The thought ran through my head thousands of times in a split second.

"What in the hell are you wearing? Where are your clothes, Hannah?" I probably raised my voice a little louder than I wanted, as Hannah took a step back.

"Don't be mad. Daddy. Mommy bought this for me." Hannah raised her right hand up, over her belly and cupped her swollen breast through the sheer material.

"What do you mean your mother—"

Just then my cell phone rang. I looked at my daughter, her big blue eyes wide as she held onto one of her breasts. I picked up the phone and let it ring twice more before I finally answered it. I didn't bother to say hello. I just asked my wife what was going on and why was our twenty-year-old pregnant daughter wearing lingerie.

"Andy, stop talking for a moment. I bought that for Hannah to wear." I looked at Hannah who took a few more steps into the office.

"Why would you do that? I can see her tits." My mind was racing and wondering why Cherice would buy lingerie for Hanna. My daughter just smiled at me, still holding her breast as she took a few more steps into the office.

"I know, sweetheart. That's the point. If you will shut up long enough for me to explain. Do you remember how horny I was when I was pregnant with Hannah?"

I remembered. Towards the end of both pregnancies, Cherice was a sex monster. On most days I'd have to come home from work during lunch to fuck her. Then I'd fuck her at least once in the evening before a potential third romp just before going to bed.

"Your daughter takes after her mother, but it's twice as bad. She came to me last month to talk about a problem she was having, specifically, her belly getting in the way."

I watched as Hannah walked further into the office and came around to the desk, standing next to me. I looked up at her swollen breasts, which may have been a foot or two from my face. "What is her problem?" I looked up at Hannah's blue eyes as she continued to smile at me.

"Masturbating. I told you how horny she is all the time. I decided to help her...you know...with a dildo."

I didn't believe my ears when my wife said she helped our oldest daughter masturbate. I thought back to all those late-night mother and daughter discussions my wife was supposedly having with Hannah. I assumed that they were discussing motherhood and what to expect through her pregnancy. My mind immediately changed to images of my wife kneeling in front of my naked daughter, plunging a dildo in and out of her.

"When we went to the doctor yesterday, the OB/GYN said it was time to start working towards getting Hannah ready to deliver the baby. Do you remember what our doctor said when we were getting close to Hannah's and Emma's due dates?" My wife paused.

Sex. Our doctor said to have lots of sex to help kickstart labor. At the time it wasn't a problem because my wife was constantly horny.

Oh my God

, I thought,

my wife wants me to have sex with my daughter.

"You want me to have sex with Hannah." I could not believe it. I was in shock; it is the only explanation why I didn't stop Hannah when she grabbed my hand.

My wife wants me to have sex with my daughter

.

That's all that was going through my mind. I was so focused on what Cherice said to me that I didn't notice Hannah grab my hand and raise it to her breast. When I finally realized it, I had a handful of my daughter's milk-swollen breast and was pinching her nipple.

Her eyes were closed, and my daughter was biting her lip.

"What...." I was at a loss for words as I sat in my desk chair, fondling my very pregnant daughter.

"Yes, you need to have sex with Hannah. I know she's our daughter, but there is no one else. The loser that got her pregnant hasn't talked to her in months and the dildo is not working anymore. It's either you or some random guy she meets on the internet."

I still couldn't believe what my wife was saying. "Sex with Hannah." My voice cracked at the end because I felt a pair of lips kiss my neck, just under my ear. The hand in my lap spun my world around one more time. I didn't know what to say as my oldest daughter rubbed my cock through my shorts.

"Yes, you need to pound your daughter's pussy with your big dick and make her cum. The good thing is you don't need to worry about getting her pregnant. Give her a couple of orgasms."

I regretted not wearing underwear with my shorts. I was so focused on the sound of my wife's voice, that I didn't hear the zipper. I realized too late that Hannah had fished out my cock and was now stroking it. The bite on the ear didn't hurt. "Fuck me, Daddy. I need this so bad," my daughter cooed in my ear. I was just about to push her away, when she bent forward and inhaled my half-hard cock into her mouth.

"OH FUCK." It had been more than two decade since I had a woman other than my wife sucking my dick. I instinctively arched my back and raised my cock up to my daughter's mouth.

"What is it, dear?" My wife asked what was going on and I could barely get the words out. I watched my daughter's blonde head bob up and down and let the warm and wet embrace of her mouth surround my cock.

"Good, I'll keep Emma here at the mall for a couple of hours. Take our daughter down to the basement and help her out." With that my wife hung up the phone.

My mind was telling me this is wrong on so many levels, but I couldn't get over the feeling of pure lust. It didn't help that my dick was getting harder and longer by the second. I could feel Hannah's firm grip on my shaft as her tongue licked the underside of my swollen head. What made it worse was the fact that I put my hand on the back of her head without thinking. I wanted her to take more of it, just like her slut of a mother.

I couldn't say anything. All I could do was watch as my cock disappeared into my daughter's

mouth only to reappear a second or two later. I don't know how long I sat there as she sucked my cock, but eventually she released it and kissed me.

"I need you to fuck me, Daddy." I watched as my pregnant daughter stood up and pulled me out of the chair by my hand. Finally standing, Hannah grabbed me by the cock and started leading me out of the office while stroking it.

Walking down the stairs was a little awkward as Hannah continued to hold my cock like a child holding a new toy. Hannah pulled me into the center of her room and got up on her tiptoes to try and kiss me. She used her left hand to pull my face down to hers as she kissed me again. The kiss wasn't the type a child may give a parent, instead her tongue probed my mouth. Hannah's hand kept a firm grip on my cock as she continued to stroke me — if I was ever going to resist fucking my own child, that time had come and gone.

I grabbed Hannah's firm breasts and played with her nipples. She in turn moaned into my mouth. It was Hannah who eventually broke off the kiss. She let go of my cock and started pulling my shirt over my head. As I'm about six inches taller than my daughter, I helped get it over my head.

"I can do this, Dad. In case you didn't notice, I've fucked before." Hannah slapped my hand away as I offered to help undo the button on my shorts. She undid the button and let my shorts fall to the floor. I had the sudden realization that I was standing stark naked in my daughter's room.

"You have a nice dick, Daddy." I couldn't believe my ears as Hannah started stroking me again.

"Fuck, baby...that feels so good." At this point there was no turning back, I was going to fuck my daughter. "Let go of Daddy for a second."