How It Started The Second Part

This is the second and only expected sequel to "How It's Going - The First Part". But it is a sequel the way Wynds of Change does sequels... same world, same storyline, different incestuous couple, and no they're not getting together in an orgy. As always, all characters are over the age of 18, and none of this is real. It only happened in my twisted imagination. I hope you enjoy. Please vote and comment. I read each and every one of the comments and appreciate your feedback!

Another Friday night. Madison closed her eyes and tried to relax. She regulated her breathing and tried to enjoy herself. She thought about the guy she was with two weeks ago. Brad. Of course he was named Brad. He looked like a Norse god. Blonde hair, blue eyes, chiseled chin, and positively gagging at the idea of fucking a real redhead, particularly one a few years older. She was a twenty-eight-year old athlete and he felt like he'd hit the jackpot. Plus, he thought he was God's gift to women. Sadly, all those muscles and bravado hid a below average size cock. And very substandard performance.

But oh, he did talk a good game. A game that left her utterly unsatisfied. Twenty minutes after they started, he was already gone. The playful banter lasted about five minutes, foreplay lasted all of ten seconds, the sex lasted thirty seconds, she went to the bathroom to pee, and a minute later she came back out and told him that she had to get up early in the morning and that he needed to leave. No repeat performance.

She thought about the guy before him. Jackson. He had a better temperament. And much nicer equipment. In fact, that might have been the nicest looking dick she'd ever seen. She remembered the oral attention she's so selflessly lavished on it. Then she remembered how there wasn't even a hint of reciprocation. What was between her legs that these guys were so averse to even a little pussy-licking? All he seemed to want to do is pound in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out. No imagination. No creativity. Not even an occasional change of tempo. A lot like this guy.

She opened her eyes and regarded the guy above her, breathing hard, pumping like a robot. But that's all he was offering her. No romance, no kissing, no oral. Not even a couple of adventurous fingers. Just a hard cock pounding in and out of a wet hole. Like Jackson, this guy wasn't going to get a repeat performance either. How long had it been, she wondered idly. He didn't even notice as she looked at her watch. It seemed like so much longer, but it had only been about five or six minutes. At least he lasted a lot longer than Brad. Still, this is not the best use of her time. So, she suddenly started moaning loudly, gyrating wildly, and gave a lackluster fake orgasm performance. Had he been paying any level of attention to his partner he could probably even tell it was fake. She didn't care. She just wanted it over and him gone. Apparently, her performance was good enough to push him over the edge. Ten minutes later, he, too, was gone.

In the shower, as she washed his sweat off her, she thought about her life so far. She wasn't slutty, she was just looking for

something

. And she knew what it was. She wanted someone to make love to her. She wanted someone to love her, for her. She didn't want to be fucked indiscriminately, just another notch on somebody's bedpost. She wanted to be made love to. She wanted kisses and hugs, and long walks while holding hands. She wanted someone to ache for her like she'd ache for him. She wanted the fairy tale.

But fairy tales aren't real, she told herself. It was funny how every time she was with her father, he treated her like a princess. And the fairy tales were just chock full of princesses, weren't they? Why was it that only a girl's father could make her feel that way? Couldn't she find someone who wasn't her father to make her feel that good?

Madison Leroux was a twenty-eight-year-old professional who should have been in the prime of a successful and highly lucrative career as a professional tennis player. But her professional tennis career had already passed her by, courtesy of one drunk driver. She was just seventeen years old at the time, and she and Hunter, her boyfriend at the time, were coming home from a movie. It was late on a Saturday night, and it had been raining. And some idiot with too much to drink and not enough sense to call an Uber, crossed the center line, clipping the teenagers' car and sending them into a spin. Hunter was a young and inexperienced driver and couldn't recover from the spin. They slammed into a tree. Hunter's family was quite wealthy, and his BMW was new with all the latest safety equipment. No one was seriously injured, but the way the car hit the tree, Madison broke her knee.

As her knee shattered, so did her dreams of playing tennis at the professional level. Her father was there every step of the way, making sure she got to each and every rehab appointment. He worked with her tirelessly to help her get back to 100%. But a year later, she realized she would never get it back. She knew she would never again be as fast or as agile as she used to be. And certainly not enough to compete at the highest levels of the sport she loved. Her father and his money helped her establish the small Tennis Academy that bore her name now. While she loved competing, she found a deep satisfaction in molding and developing young tennis players into the lethal weapons that she used to be. The academy made her enough money that she was able to buy a small home, but not too far away from her dad. And they saw each other often.

Maya O'Day was Madison's star pupil. This girl was absolutely going pro, and soon. She'd been coaching Maya since she was fourteen, and now would graduate in months, and join the new breed of black women tennis stars currently taking the tennis world by storm. It didn't hurt her future chances that she would graduate with a degree in pre-med with a GPA north of 3.8. Maddy could not have been prouder of her protégé. But today, something was off. Today she had the kids playing 'best 2 out of 3' for more in-game practice of fundamentals they'd worked on earlier in the week. And Maya knew every move as if she were programmed for them. Today, she was double - faulting, missing winners, and letting obvious opportunities slip by. After her second straight 2 - 0 loss, Madison decided to call it a day and let the kids have the rest of a beautiful spring Saturday.

"Got a minute, Mye?" she asked as Maya was packing her gear.

"Sure. What's up," she answered.

"I don't think you've played that badly since I've known you. What's going on?"

She finished zipping her bag and sat on the courtside bench. "I'm kinda scared to tell you. It's really personal. But feel like I need to tell somebody, and Jordan's out of town for the weekend." Jordan was her best friend and a fellow tennis player.

Madison looked concerned and said, "Look, you're my student. But in six years of working together, I've come to consider you a friend. Maybe like a little sister."

Maya scoffed. "Sister," she said, almost under her breath.

Madison looked hurt. "I really mean that. I would have thought that the sentiment was returned. I never thought we had any problems. What's wrong?

"No, no!" she said, a little distressed that she'd sounded so callous. "It's not you," said Maya, shaking her head. "And yes, I consider you a friend. And I really need a friend to talk to now. It's..."

"Take your time. Tell me what's going on," said Madison soothingly. "Maybe I can help."

After a long pause, Maya said, "No, there's nothing you can do. Hell, it's your fault that I know about it at all."

"My fault!" exclaimed Madison. "What did I do?! What the hell's going on?!"

"I need to talk to

somebody.

But look, if I tell you this, you can't tell another soul. Not now, not ever. Nobody. This goes to the grave, understood? And don't judge me, okay?" Maya said, a bit defensively.

"Okay, not a word," she agreed warily, unsure if she'd just agreed to help hide a body.

Maya said, "Remember a couple months ago when you joked that I should do a DNA test to see if I was related to 'tennis royalty' or something?"

"Yeah, I remember. But wasn't serious. I was just joking around."

"I know that. But I did it anyway, just for kicks, you know?"

"So, are you in some Venus and Serena bloodline or something?" Madison asked excitedly.

"Not as far as I can tell. But they did find something interesting." She kept her friend in suspense for a moment and the said, "Turns out my mom and dad were related before they got married and had me."

"Wait, what?" asked Madison, confused. "Related? Related how?"

"As it turns out, my mom and dad are father and daughter. My father is also my grandfather, my mother is also my sister, and so I guess I'm my own aunt!"

"What?! The test said all that?!"

"No. The test just said there were 'irregularities in my parentage.' I called and asked about it, and they couldn't tell me any more because of privacy law. But the girl I talked with simply said it looked like my parents might be blood related. They said I should ask them. I did and they came clean."

"How do you feel about this?" asked Madison.

"I don't know how to feel. I mean, I still love them, and they assure me that nothing's changed. And I guess that's true. I guess I'm just trying to get my head around the idea of a father and daughter having sex and being together like that, and it being okay. That's not what I've ever heard at all!"

"Hmph," Madison said softly. "They're father and daughter."

"I know, right?" agreed Maya, thinking that her friend felt the same as she did.

"I know you might not want to hear this, Mye, but it happens. Probably a lot more than we know."

"What do you mean?" asked Maya.

"Incest," she said simply. "It's mostly illegal, it's universally taboo, and entirely socially unacceptable. But it still happens. They just keep it really quiet and hidden. But then on the other hand, if they're all consenting adults, who are they hurting?"

"Like my folks?"

"Exactly like them. Long, happy marriage, beautiful family, good people. If he's in love with his daughter and she loves him back, who are they hurting? They're happy. Let them be happy."

"So what should I do?"

"Do? There's nothing

to

do. Accept it."

"But,"

"But what?" challenged Madison. "They haven't done anything wrong."

"Incest is wrong!"

"To who? They haven't done anything to you. In fact, a lot of folks feel like I do about it. Live and let live. It's really not your business," Madison said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted saying it. She prayed silently, don't ask it... don't ask it... don't ask it.

"Could you do it?" asked Maya. "Could you fuck your own father?"

Fuck! Thought Madison. Give her the standard answer of 'Eww, no!' or admit that the last few months she'd been obsessing over that very thing? Instead, she tried to stall. "Under the right set of circumstances, anything could happen."

Madison could hear how weak that answer sounded. But Maya seemed not to notice. She just looked at her friend and said thoughtfully, "Hmmm. That's pretty much what my mom said."

Madison didn't answer, afraid she would say too much and reveal her own secrets.

"Still," said Maya. "It just seems..." but trailed off.

"Okay. Look at it this way. You're the best tennis player here. Who would you say is second?"

"Second? I have to say Jordan. Although it's not really fair, 'cause she's every bit as good as me. She always gives me a run for my money, and she outright beats me sometimes. Sometimes," Maya laughed lightly.

Madison scoffed and said, "I like Jordan, and she is a very good tennis player. But she is not your equal. Honestly, no one here is. Anyway," and she leaned in and said slyly, "You know she's gay right?"

Maya scoffed and looked at her friend as if she'd never seen her before. "Gay?!

Everybody

knows she's gay! What does that have to do with anything?"

Madison smirked and said, "Exactly! Who a grown man or woman chooses to be with, is nobody's business. So how can you give your friend Jordan that consideration but not your own mom and dad? Why do you get to judge them?"

Maya looked pensive as she seemed to consider Madison's words. Finally, she said, "Thanks for the insight. I still just got to come to grips with it all. I just found out yesterday."

"Just give it some time," said Madison. "It'll be okay. Just don't do or say anything that you can't take back. Anyway, I've got to lock up, so have a good weekend!"

*****

While she was closing up her office, her phone rang. It was her dad, of course.

"You coming over after work?" he asked. "And did you have lunch?"

"Had a granola bar, so you should be a good father and buy your daughter dinner."

"Who can resist an offer like that?" he joked. "We can hang out and have dinner. Sound good?"

"I'm gonna run home and shower and change. I'll be there around four," she said.

"Perfect!"

The trap was set. Now to get mom to go to a book club or whatever boring-ass thing she did. Her mother was turning into a little old lady right before their eyes.

Madison headed home. Her brain had been buzzing ever since Maya dropped her little bombshell on her. Hearing her dad's sexy voice didn't help at all. She could hardly believe it. The thing she'd been agonizing over. She'd been feeling hideously guilty over wanting her dad the way she did. And here were two people she knew and respected, twenty years deep into their own incestuous relationship. And most of all, they were living out loud, right in front of everybody. You could say what you will about incest being wrong or weird or whatever, but you had to admire the guts to say, "Fuck it! We're doing this!" She wasn't sure if she had the nerve to be that open, but Maya's confessional had given her the resolve to see if she could actually seduce her father.

She and her dad were already very close. Much closer and more attuned to each other than she and her mother, Celeste. Her dad was a good-looking guy. Taller than her by only a couple of inches, with the same lean, graceful build. They played tennis together regularly and that kept him fit. His hair was thick and full and still mostly dark brown, matching his warm brown eyes that looked at Madison with so much love. They'd all celebrated his 55

th

birthday last year, but he didn't look a minute over 40, while her mom looked every bit of 60. But when they were together there was no doubt even to strangers that they were father and daughter. She looked nothing like her mother, other than she inherited her mom's red hair, blue eyes, and relatively flat butt. Years of tennis had taken care of that. All the running and stretching had curved up her bottom nicely. But she was clearly her father's daughter, just an attractive, female version of him. That's okay, she thought. The obvious family resemblance wouldn't be a problem. If she did pull this off, they would only be lovers in the bedroom. No one else would need to know. Like she asked Maya, who would they be hurting?

Celeste Leroux. Her mother. That's who. Madison would have to figure that problem out.

She went home and changed into a thin white sundress with tiny blue and yellow flowers adorning it. She added a pair of flimsy, lacy white panties underneath. The dress was so thin and gauzy that it appeared very sheer in any light. The panties would be clearly visible, as would be the matching bra. It was there mainly to highlight her practically non-existent tits. At least they didn't get in the way when she was playing tennis. She did a final check in the mirror. She knew that this was something much sexier than what she'd normally wear for a Saturday afternoon with the folks. She hoped her mom didn't get too mad.

She drove over to her childhood home and walked right in. "I'm here, Dad!" she called out. She walked through the house into the open kitchen living area. Her father was on the phone, and now that she was there, it seemed like he was hurrying to end the call.

"...alright, honey, travel safe. I'll see you next week. Tell the girls I said hi!" and he hung up. "Hey, sweetheart!" he said happily as he enveloped her in a hug which she returned eagerly. One would have thought they hadn't seen each other in years. As he released her, he couldn't help but notice how amazing his girl looked. He glanced her up and down, and simply said, "Damn!"

"What, daddy?" she asked coquettishly.

"Don't 'What' me! You know 'what!' You look like, I don't know. But DAMN!"

"You like?" she asked, turning a pirouette. "I picked it out just for you."

"Oh yeah," he said, nodding devilishly. "I like way more than I should."

"Why thank you," she replied. "Was that mom on the phone? I thought she was home."

"You thought she was home, and you dressed like that?" he asked.

"I knew you'd defend me, daddy. I wasn't too worried. Plus, she barely notices either of us anymore."

"That's for damn sure, "he agreed. "Anyway, this week is her annual girls' trip. This year they went to San Francisco. I think they're stopping in Vegas on the way back."

"Omigod! Hen-fest was this week?! I forgot all about it! 'The Golden Girls Take Las Vegas!'" Madison laughed at her own joke.

"Sweetie, they aren't hens," Joe tried lamely to defend his wife. "They're—"

"They are totally old hens!" Madison said, laughing at her dad trying to be diplomatic. "They're all in their fifties, they all have grandkids, and they all wear granny panties and prison bras!" By now her and her father were laughing wildly.

"Hey, me and your mother don't have grandkids yet," he said.

"Don't worry... I have a plan," she tempted. "You'll see."

"Fine. What the hell is a prison bra?" he asked. "How do you know what they wear in prison?"

"Not that," Madison corrected him. "Those big-assed maximum security bras that keep the titties locked up and out of sight. Like they're in prison."

"Your mother doesn't wear that!"

"Are you kidding?! That's all she wears! Go look in her drawer. That's all that's in there!" she challenged him.

Determined to one-up her, Joe took the bait and went and checked his wife's drawer. Sure enough, the only colors were white and flesh, and every piece of lingerie looked industrial strength. When did this happen, he wondered. Walking back out he admitted defeat.

"Fine, you win" he said to her smirking face. "But all women have at least some of that for, you know, that time."

"Not me," she declared. "Not one granny-pantie, not even a juvenile detention bra." Joe looked confused. "That's like a prison bra, but not as maximum-security," she explained. They both laughed again. "Anyway, after dinner, we'll go to my house, and you can check."

"I'm not checking my daughter's panty drawer!" he said.

"You checked mom's," she protested, "and mine'll be way more fun."

"I know, but that was different," he said hesitantly.

"Don't make it weird, daddy," she teased.

"Fine. But if I find any institutional garments, I'll never let you live it down!"

Madison was truly amazed at how well her plans were working. As they headed out, she thought about how much she'd always enjoyed their father-daughter date nights. They were a big part of the reason she and her dad fit so well. No less than twice each month, she had him all to herself, without any interruptions. He really taught her how to interact with guys, and what to accept and what not to tolerate. That was why she was always so quick to kick guys to the curb for failing to meet expectations. Now, he had her so spoiled that only he would do.

They went out to dinner and then for a walk in the nearby park, since it was still twilight out. A perfect dinner, a gorgeous late afternoon sky, holding hands with the most wonderful man alive, Madison was almost giddily happy. The date was a smashing success, and she was flirting with him more suggestively than ever before.