Julie Covington Mcgill The Lynches

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This is a continuation of the Julie Covington McGill, Ch. 04 story, but I changed the title, since this story shifts away from the original title character. The story is written to stand on its own, but check out the original, for background and context. Enjoy!

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The simple blue Toyota Camry pulled into the driveway of the raised ranch on Willow Drive, and pulled into the one car garage just before 10pm. The entire neighborhood was quiet at this late hour in the sleepy suburb of the Capital of New York State. To the casual observer, it was just a normal father and daughter returning from a road trip to Yankee Stadium, to see their favorite team take on their hated rivals, the Boston Red Sox.

However, the occupants of the consummate family sedan, pulling into the driveway of the consummate middle-class home behaved in a way that would be described as anything but normal, on the long ride home from the game.

It all started with their bodies being pressed tightly together during the 1-hour over-crowded train ride from the Stadium to where they had parked, and turned physical after Michelle accidentally soaked her yoga pants while taking a roadside piss, which forced her to ride the rest of the way home bottomless, as she had went without panties that day. By the time the midsized sedan pulled into the driveway, Michelle had a belly full of her father's cum, and John's fingers had been inside his daughter's pussy and ass.

John Lynch popped the trunk as Michelle put her arms through her Derek Jeter pinstripe jersey, covering her naked body. John went into the house first, to make sure the coast was clear, in case his wife stayed up past her usual 9pm bedtime, to welcome the pair home.

Michelle opened the trunk and was hit with the stench of the stale urine, as she pulled her piss soaked yoga pants out of the car. Poking his head out of the door to the house, John gave Michelle the all clear sign, and his half-naked daughter trotted into the house and went straight to the laundry room.

John quietly walked up to his bedroom to verify that his wife was soundly sleeping in their king sized bed, before making his way back down to the laundry room, where he found his naked 5-foot-3, 22-year old daughter bent over the high capacity washing machine, adding her piss soaked yoga pants and Derek Jeter jersey to the dirty laundry already in the washer. Without noticing her father entering the small laundry room, she threw in the detergent and giggled to herself about the irony, as she set the machine to 'Normal' mode.

Slipping up behind his little girl, and pressing himself against her rounded ass, he reached his hands up her flat stomach and cupped her B sized breasts. John Lynch had been fantasizing about his diminutive daughter for quite some time now, and he was hoping that the episode in the car was not a one-time deal. "You were amazing in the car Mitchie," he whispered softly in her ear, using his pet name for her, while his right hand traveled back down her belly, and over the landing strip above her clit, "and I'd love to return the favor."

Michelle slipped out of his embrace, and put an arm over her breasts, while her other hand covered her pussy. "I don't know daddy," Michelle instinctively replied, "I mean mommy is right upstairs, what if she comes down?" Even though Michelle too had been lusting after her father for several years now, she was concerned about hurting her mother, and didn't want to pull the family apart.

John Lynch reached out and touched his daughter's chin, and lovingly lifted her head, until her deep brown eyes met his. "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you, little girl," he patiently explained, "so you need to tell me, is it that you don't 'want to', or that you're worried about your mother?"

Michelle could feel her nipples harden under her forearm, and her pussy dampening, at the surreal feeling of discussing the pros and cons of incest, while standing buck-ass naked in front of her father. She wanted to lie, and say it wasn't something she wanted, as she knew her father would drop it and never mention it again, rather than risking the wonderful relationship they had built over the years. However, it WAS something she wanted, badly, and she knew her father could always see through her whenever she attempted to lie.

"It's mommy," Michelle said softly, tacitly admitting to him, and herself, that she wanted her father as much as he wanted her.

"Oh Mitchie," John Lynch said, pulling his daughter in for a fatherly hug, "I hope you know I'd never do anything to hurt mommy either."

"But the fact that we're related aside," Michelle queried her father, her head still buried in his chest, "wouldn't you be cheating on mom, making me the 'other woman?'"

John put his hands on his daughter's shoulders, and broke their embrace, so he could again look into her eyes. "Let me ask you a question, MItchie, and please give me an honest answer."

Michelle just looked up at her father and nodded affirmatively.

"I know the walls in the house are thin...can you hear your mother and me having sex at night?"

The blush on Michelle's face should have been enough of an answer, but her father just held her gaze until she vocalized an answer.

"Yes, daddy," came her soft reply.

"And does your mother sound like she's enjoying herself?"

A deeper blush accompanied another "Yes" from Michelle.

"And do you think I would do anything to jeopardize that?"

"No," came another soft reply.

"So I'll ask you again, would you like me to return the favor?"

Michelle just looked up into her father's twinkly eyes. While his explanation never mentioned why this wouldn't affect her mother, it made sense to her, and gave her enough justification to allow herself to act on what her body was screaming for her to do. Without verbalizing an answer, Michelle just lifter herself on her tippy toes and placed a lingering kiss on her father's lips.

The erection quickly returned to tent out John's khaki's again, as he kissed his daughter passionately, and let his hands drop down to fondle her firm ass cheeks. Michelle opened her mouth to accept her father's probing tongue, as he effortlessly lifted her small frame up onto the running washing machine, without ever breaking their kiss.

John pushed Michelle's feet up to the washer, and returned his hand to her clit, finding it hard and well lubricated with her natural juices. The motion and vibrations of the washing machine were sending tingles through Michelle's body, as her father's fingers explored her dripping pussy.

Breaking their kiss, John pushed his fingers into her mouth, letting her taste her own juices, as he lowered his head in between his daughter's legs. Michelle sucked on her father's index and middle finger, as expertly as she had sucked his cock on their ride home from New York City, as her father's tongue delved deeply into the recesses of her moist folds. The thumb of his other hand strummed her aching clit, and he smiled into his daughter's cunt as he felt her orgasm overtake her small body, and she creamed all over his face.

While Michelle came down from her orgasm, John Lynch undid his belt and button of his khakis and let them and his boxer briefs drop to the floor. He pulled his polo shirt over his head, and while running his hands through her hair, kissed her deeply again, letting her taste herself on his lips and tongue.

Michelle looked down as saw her father's cock standing straight out from his body, as he stood naked in front of her. She slipped off the washer just as it started the spin cycle, turning her back to her father and pressing herself down on the gyrating machine, the cold white metal a stark contrast to the burning fire in her white hot nipples. Arching her back, Michelle presented herself to her father, and words did not need to be exchanged for him to know what she was asking him to do.

John stepped forward and grabbed his cock by the base, and rubbed the throbbing purple head up and down his daughter's pussy lips from behind, watching her juices covering his bulbous head, making it glisten in the flourescent lighting of the small laundry room.

This day was quickly added to his college graduation, his wedding day, the day Michelle was born, on the list of days he'll never forget, as his thick hard shaft slowly sunk into the warm wet folds of his daughter's young, tight pussy.

Michelle always loved the initial penetration of the first time she let a new boyfriend fuck her, but nothing she felt before could compare to the unbelievable sensation of having your father's cock enter you for the first time. The sensation actually triggered a mini-orgasm to wash over her body, until she felt her dad's curly pubic hair pressing against the tender flesh of her ass.

With the spinning machine massaging her sensitive nipples, her father withdrew from her moist channel, until just his cockhead was still inside her, and then pushed himself back into her again, more quickly this time, his balls slapping on the front of her pussy.

"Fuck me daddy," MIchelle encouraged over her shoulder, as her father picked up his paced, and started rhythmically fucking his little girl. Michelle's moans were drowned out by the running washer, but those moans were music to her father's ears, as the only thing better than finally realizing his fantasy of fucking his daughter, was having her enjoying it, even more than he was.

Michelle reached under herself and started rubbing her clit, as she felt her father was close to cumming, and she wanted to orgasm with him.

"Where?" was all her father could muster saying, as the tell tale tingles from his balls were signaling him that they were about to deliver their payload.

"I'm safe," was Michelle's breathy reply, as she bucked her ass back against her father's thrusts, and squeezed her cunt down around his cock, coaxing his balls to release the floodgates.

"OHHHHHH MITCHHHHHHHEEEEEEE" John moaned, as his cock twitched deep inside his daughter's womb, flooding it with the hot, milky seed that created her, rubbing and squeezing her firm ass as he unloaded inside her.

"YES DADDY YESSSSS!" replied Michelle, as she felt his cum spreading inside her, and she shuddered in a toe curling orgasm around her father's spurting cock.

An exhausted John Lynch laid over his daughter's back, his deflating cock still lodged in her pussy, as they both enjoyed the afterglow of their simultaneous orgasms. His cock finally slipped from her pussy, as a mixture of their combined juices dripped from her crotch onto the laundry room floor.

John spun his daughter around, and again kissed her deeply, then picked her up in his arms, and carried her up to her childhood room. Tucking her spent and naked body into her bed, he leaned down and kissed her lightly on the forehead, like he did since she was a little girl, and bid her good-night, as he turned and walked naked into his bedroom.

"So, was it as good as you had imagined?" asked his wife lovingly, as she looked at her husband's flaccid cock, dangling between his toned legs.

"Better!" was his reply, as he slid into the bed next to his naked wife, as she held the sheet up for him.

"Tell me all about it, and don't leave out a single detail," said Michelle's mother, as she slid down in the bed, and licked her husband's growing cock, savoring the taste of their daughter's juices on his manhood.