Learning Through Porn Ch 12

Author's Note: this is the final chapter of Learning Through Porn. My thanks to everyone who has read, commented, and voted on this story. Your input has been very much appreciated. I hope I have learned from the mistakes I have made. Any successes are purely the result of my sadly twisted imagination. My apologies to anyone whose wishes for the storyline were not fulfilled.

Kitty sat in her bed, studying her toes. She felt numb. She didn't want to think about anything, about any of the stuff that had happened today. But her mind kept betraying her, bringing her back again and again to that moment...

That moment, when she had found herself with her mouth crammed full of her father's immense cock, throbbing, hot, insistent.

She shook her head involuntarily. She had been drunk. They had all been drunk. That was it. There was no need for self-recrimination.

But, really, hadn't she wanted this to happen? Hadn't that lurid scene been the inevitable outcome of all of her manipulations over the weekend? How different was it, in truth, from the way she had been sitting on her Dad's erection in his bed, both of them achieving orgasm by rubbing off on each other?

Was it the sex, or was it the fact that she hadn't been in control?

Or was that what had made it so exciting?

*****

"Oh, shit. Oh, shit, shit, shit." Mark Clifton sat in his home office, his head cradled in his hands. The moment he had embraced his daughter, her full breasts smashed on his chest, his wilting cock wet and still half-hard against her stomach; that moment had spelled the end of any possible relationship with Kitty. He had no idea how he could ever face her again.

The tears scalded his face. He had been unaware of them. He was unaware of too many things. Oh, God. The guilt. What kind of father was he?

In fact, how could he have allowed this situation to become this absurd? He had been led by his lust, betrayed by the mere animal that housed his sexuality. He had prided himself for so many years on his ability to maintain the upper hand on that part of himself. But it had gotten out of his control.

Still. He was the father. He would do whatever it took to make things right. He stood up, irresolute. Looking at the door, he felt his courage quail. How could he ever face her again?

*****

Kitty waited all evening for her father to come find her. When he didn't, not even a little knock on the door, a quiet 'good night,' she forced herself to face up to her actions. She had started this, in reality. She had been the prime mover. And it was clear that her father was not going to be the one to step up.

She looked at herself in the mirror. It wouldn't do. Not at all. For the purposed of this conversation, a little preparation was in order.

Thirty minutes later, she stood outside of his bedroom door. She took a deep breath. It was up to her, now, to repair things. To make things work in her family again. It took courage, but she had plenty of that. She thought back to the last time she had done this. That had taken more guts. That had set the groundwork. Was that really only this morning? It seemed like such a long time ago.

She knocked gently on the door, and, not waiting for an answer, turned the door knob.

Mark heard the knock, and ignored it. He couldn't face her. He lacked the wherewithal. In fact, he was sure his life was completely ruined. But then he heard the door open, the soft fall of her feet on the carpeted floor. The sound of her breathing.

He was too still to be asleep. Anger welled up inside of her. How dare he? After all that had happened, how could he dare to pretend like she wasn't even there?

"Daddy," she whispered. He stayed in the same position. She considered him. What did he think she was going to do, simply walk away?

"You coward," she hissed. "Look at me."

"I can't." His voice sounded miserable. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I—I don't know if I can go on like this."

"Like what? Daddy, what are you talking about?"

He stared blindly at the wall ahead of him. Why couldn't she just understand? Why did he have to spell it out?

"You and me, Kitty. What we've been doing. Oh, Christ," he sobbed. "And I don't think we can just pretend that nothing happened."

Kitty rolled her eyes, and heaved a deep sigh. God, men were such idiots.

"I seem to remember that we made a pact this morning. Do you remember?"

"Huh?"

"Guess not. Geez, what a dope." He blinked. Did she just call him a dope? He turned halfway over. Her heart skipped a beat. She was getting through to him.

"Do you remember me coming in here this morning, at least?"

"Uh, yeah," he admitted, his mind slowly coming to grips with what she was driving at.

"And at that time, we agreed that, as long as we played by the rules, and everybody stayed strong, we could keep on doing what we were doing before. Right?"

He looked up at her. God, she was beautiful. Her hair was loose around her face, the long shining tresses cascading over her shoulders. Her eyes were so deep, intense, and blue. Blue like the sky. Blue he could soar inside of forever. Thankfully, she was wearing a normal bathrobe, long enough to cover her whole body down to below the knees.

"Right?" Her voice was insistent. He nodded dumbly.

"And we sealed that agreement with a kiss. It was sealed, Daddy. No turning back."

"But I wasn't strong, Kitty. I failed." He was crying, the silent tears slipping down his strong face. She hated to see him like this.

"Nonsense," she smiled. "I don't see how you weren't strong. You were tricked, you silly man. There's a difference. I was tricked, too." Hope started to trickle inside his heart again. Maybe there was a way out of this. Maybe his life could be saved.

"The way I remember it, you stayed remarkably strong. And you certainly didn't touch anything that you couldn't see, right?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded, weakly smiling along with her.

"So. We're okay, Daddy. Don't you see?"

"I think so, Kitty." She giggled, and poked him on the nose.

"Think? I don't want you to think, Daddy."

"All right, all right," he laughed. "I know we're okay."

"Thank goodness," she said, theatrically. "So I don't have to go around in this stupid robe any more." She rapidly untied the sash and dropped it off of her shoulders. The garment fell off of her body in a soft susurration, pooling around her feet.

Underneath, she had a satin chemise on, electric blue, reminding him uncomfortably of her bathing suit from the afternoon. The neckline swooped deep between her breasts, showing off the inner slopes of each. Her nipples, hard as always, poked enticingly through the soft material. The front and back were only connected over the shoulders, while the sides were tied together with three strings, all of which were under her arm, above her hips. From the lowest string down, the chemise hung like a Grecian toga, a flap in front and one hanging from the elegant curve of her buttocks. He couldn't see any signs of panties under the thing.

"Damn, Kitty," he gasped. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" He thanked his lucky stars that he had kept his boxers on tonight. Otherwise, he would have presented her with the vision of his erection for the second time that day.

"What do you mean, Daddy?" Her voice was coy, her eyes glinting mischievously. "Don't you remember what I said this morning?" He tried to keep his eyes on her face, but his gaze kept straying to the lovely presentation of her charms, so casually displayed for him. "I said that I wanted to be able to wear whatever I wanted around the house. I also said that it was okay for you to look at me."

"And to touch whatever I can see," he blurted.

"You're a quick learner," she giggled. Mark was lost. Again. But this time, maybe he would do something about it.

"Then come here," he ordered. Her eyes widened at his sudden change in tone. But she obeyed, slowly sashaying closer to the bed. The front flap swished from side to side with her exaggerated hip sway, threatening to expose the not so secret place at the junction of her thighs. He turned to sit up on the bed, swinging his legs over the side.

Kitty could see the projection his hardness made in his boxers as he repositioned himself. Her breath caught in her mouth. It really was an impressive sight. One which she had enjoyed from a much more intimate angle that afternoon. Her heart raced. Was this the moment they had been working towards all of this time?

"Turn around. Slowly." She blinked at him, her eyes suddenly wary.

"What are you going to do, Daddy?"

"Nothing that we don't want, right, Princess?" Her own words flung back at her. After all, it had been she who had walked into his bedroom dressed in this way. She was the one who was flaunting her sweet sexy body in front of him.

She stood up on her tiptoes, the action bringing out the muscles of her calves and thighs. Keeping an eye on her father, she slowly pirouetted in front of him, knowing all the time that he was looking at her body, at her curves. When she was turned away from him, she felt his hand on her naked hip, the part that was not covered by the satin of her chemise.

"Stop." She stayed just where she was. She could feel her legs trembling slightly. His other hand came up to the opposite hip, the two of them giving her support. His fingers were curled around in front, over the sharp jut of her hipbones, touching the soft skin of her lower belly.

"Uh, Daddy, I don't think you can see where your fingers are."

"Mm-hm. Well, I think the rules are going to change a little bit."

"What? What do you mean?" She heard the frantic edge in her voice, and hated that she was so easily thrown off balance. Or was it that she loved it? She felt excited. Alive. Hot, so crazily hot.

"Bend over, Kitty."

"But—"

"Now." His voice was like a whip. She found herself obeying, unsure of herself for the first time in their shared game. As she leaned forward, she could feel the smooth glide of the satin over her ass. She knew it was rising higher and higher, exposing more of herself than she had ever done voluntarily with him.

Mark watched as she followed his commands. He felt confident now. This was the way he usually was with women. Kitty had thrown him for a loop up until now. But it was clear that she, too, needed guidance once in a while. His cock was throbbing in his boxers. He knew instinctively that it was not yet time to do anything about that. That time would come, too.

Her skin was hot beneath his hands. With her hips held, she was bending neatly from the waist. As a cheerleader, she was very flexible. There was a pulse beneath one of his fingers. It was racing, quick, a rabbit cornered.

At first, he couldn't see much between her legs. The satin was reluctant to give up its job of maintaining her modesty. And then, finally, it slipped up, and he could see. See that center of her sex, the perfectly formed lips, flushed and engorged with excitement. See the way they were pouting apart, revealing the lush valley within, the hard button of her clit poking out of its little hood. He could see even the pink moisture of her little inner labia, and the hole between them.

"Mmmm," he sighed, unconsciously pulling outward with his thumbs, spreading her ass open so he could take in the lovely sight of her anus above. The dark skin around that little wrinkled hole was like an invitation.

"Daddy," she quavered, blood now rushing to her head. "Oh, Daddy, Daddy. What can you see? Oh, God, what can you see!"

"Everything, Princess. And you know what that means."

"Ohhhh, God, yes, yes." She was panting now, excitement running through her like lightning. "Daddy, are you going to be strong?"

"Strong as I've ever been, Kitty."

He leaned into her, his face drawn inexorably to the display in front of him. And when he got close, the smell of her attacked him; her musk, her sex, her womanhood. He blew gently on her most private areas. Her knees buckled, but he held her up with his strong hands. She whimpered quietly.

Finally he bridged the last gap between them. Gently, but firmly, he kissed the center of her unfolded petals. He had made a connection he had never expected to make. But now that it was made, it would never be unmade. And they had both wanted it. They had both traveled half the distance necessary. There was no turning back.

"Ooooh, Daddy," she murmured. "So strong, so strong."

She was melting, all liquid heat from deep inside of her, the spark coming from the feel of his lips on her sex. And his tongue, oh God, his tongue, now hot and rasping on her smooth skin. He was tasting her. Her Daddy was tasting her.

And she tasted so sweet, so tangy, so full of life, of youth. The flavor of her rolled across his extended tongue, filling him with knowledge, understanding. How had he resisted her all of this time? Why had he resisted taking her, fulfilling her? But that was all in the past. The here and now was filled with the sensation of her on his tongue.

He took his time with her, using his tongue to tease her, to build up her excitement. He rarely touched her most sensitive places, taking detours around them. And she found all sorts of surprises from the journeys he made. The arousal to be had from the feel of his tongue on her thighs, on her butt, on her anus!

And then back inside of her, his tongue delving deep within her, the feel of her tunnel around him driving him to extend deeper. He had a finger on her asshole, rubbing gently in little circles, attempting no penetration. He had already brought her to the brink several times, each time slipping back just when she was about to crest over.

This time, however, another finger found her hard clit, and with the slightest pressure on it, she felt the explosion she had been denied for what seemed an eternity. And when it came, it came with the force of a hurricane, sweeping over her, buffeting her with its intensity. All she could see was a swirl of colors, her brain coping with the overload of stimulation by translating the feeling into the most vibratory of visions.

He felt her spasming around him, the walls of her pussy rhythmically clamping down on his tongue, a gentle pressure from all around. She was mewling in her frantic pleasure, her legs giving her almost no support at all, leaning instead back into him, pushing against his face. And then it was over, and she slowly stood up.

"Oh. My. God." She looked at him, her eyes shining, full of wonder. "What have you done to me?" He simply smiled up at her, his face glistening with her moisture.

"Kiss me, Kitty," he said simply. She slowly dropped to her knees in front of him, studying his face.

"I love you, Daddy," she whispered, as she came closer. Her pretty face, flushed with her orgasm, her deep blue eyes, her hair, all mussed now. All of this together was a picture he could never forget. And she brought her lips to his, a soft kiss, a gentle kiss. Their mouths opened, and curious, their tongues explored each other. She could taste herself on his mouth, the tang of her own juices filling her own mouth.

"Mmmm," she giggled. "I taste good, don't I?"

"You sure do, sweetheart," he murmured. He pulled her back into him. Now the kiss was passionate, hungry. There was business still left unfinished. Her hands slipped down his torso, coming to rest on his hips, right at the waistband of his boxers.

"Stand up, Daddy," she said quietly. Her heart was pounding with trepidation as he stood before her. She had seen his cock that afternoon, but now it was on purpose. It was her move. With trembling hands, she grasped the boxers and slowly pulled them down. The immense shaft was caught on the waistband, so she reached inside and took a hold of it.

"So hot," she murmured. Her fingers were cool on him. He knew he had soaked the front of his underwear with his pre-cum. Everything felt slippery. He looked down. Was it really possible that his daughter was sitting in front of him, undressing him, holding his erection?

As she slipped his cock out from inside, the boxers fell the rest of the way to the ground. She stared in awe at the curving length of her father's erection. This was what she had been made from. This was what she was made for. His perfection mirrored hers. It was only right that she should join the two together. Her other hand came up to hold him as well. Together, her two hands still left two or more inches uncovered. Despite her fear, she knew instinctively that she could take him. And she was eager to try.

"Sit back down, Daddy," she said. He complied, wonder in his eyes as he watched his sultry daughter stand in front of him. She carelessly pulled her chemise up over her hips, and straddled him, one knee on either side. Her eyes locked on his, she reached between her legs to grasp his raging erection.

"I'm strong too," she whispered, lowering her hips enough so that the bulbous head of his cock rubbed against her slick labia. "Stronger than you can imagine, Daddy." Pushing back, the thick nose nudging between them. "So strong." And forward again, now circling the so sensitive bud of her clit.

He gasped, his smoky blue eyes staring intently at her. His hands wandered over her back, caressing her through her chemise, then filling themselves with the firm curves of her exposed ass. He let her be in control. This was her part of the journey.

With a little dip, she allowed him to enter her, less than an inch. She remained motionless, the reality of his entry into her, of the presence of him inside of her, even this little, creating a raging storm of desire in her. Her father. In her.

The heat of her, the hot wet heat of her on the helmet of his erection caused an involuntary jerk, a little spasm. He knew he had just ejected a small amount of his life-giving fluid, deposited it directly inside of his daughter. He should have been horrified. He should have been terribly ashamed. Instead, he was proud; proud to have created a girl like Kitty, so perfect, so sexy, so desirable. So sure of what she wanted.

"Do you see how strong I am, Daddy?" Her voice was low, powerful. He nodded. "I could stop here. I could get off. I could leave you like this. Would you let me do that?"

"No, Kitty." His confession surprised him. But he recognized it for truth as soon as it left his mouth. There was no room for lying. "If you tried to get up now, I would take you anyway."

She shuddered, a little orgasm rippling through her at his words. Oh, he was so strong. He was just right. She rewarded him by slipping lower on his shaft, accepting two more inches of his astonishing length inside of her. She was stretched by his girth, opened as she had never been before. And it felt so right.

"You're a bad, bad man. Do you know that? To threaten a poor defenseless girl in that way." She smiled wickedly. "And your own daughter, too."

"But it's the way that daughter wants it, isn't it? Just like her father." He slid his hands up her back, resting them on her slim shoulders. She leaned her face over and kissed the back of his hand. "Come now," he went on. "It's time to take the rest. Are you ready?"

She nodded, biting her lip. In spite of her bravado, the thought of all of that cock inside of her poor small pussy was alarming. She knew she was tight around him. His hands exerted downward pressure on her shoulders, and she allowed his direction to take her where she needed to go.

Inch by inch, spreading the tightness of her apart, delving deep inside of her. The parental cock invading where it never had a right to go, until now, until the mutual assurance of their love created that right. Both father and daughter, gasping, moaning with each new inch explored. And when he found the end of her canal, the deepest part of her, they were both astonished to find that he was fully sheathed.