[This story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity. It involves themes of incest, specifically a father/daughter storyline. If such material offends you, please do not read further.
All characters depicted herein are over the age of eighteen.
As always, your votes and comments are much appreciated, and don't forget to check out my other submissions]
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"Have I ever told you how much I used to absolutely loath New Years Eve?" Teri giggled, taking a near stumble as she stood out of the car.
"Just every December 31st," I parried playfully, reaching out to gently catch her about the waist. She was fairly well swanked on Patron margaritas and the Moet the Tom and Lisa had been toasting with at their bash. "...You do seem to have gotten over your aversion though."
"Completely," Teri chortled, her eyelids sagging contentedly as I carefully led her out of the garage and into our kitchen. I heard the television playing, a pall of bluish fog filling the living room, some shrill techno dance beat screeching through the house.
"Katie, we're home," I hollered.
"Hi, Daddy," came the distracted response.
"Ask Sister Katherine Anne if she had a good time?" Teri whispered cattily in my ear, nuzzling her nose into the crook of my neck. I shushed her quietly, holding her arm as I shepherded her across the room, feeling the wobbliness in her gait—dodging back a bit as she amorously teased her fingers across the front of my trousers. "...Go on, ask her if she got lucky."
"Down a little," I spoke up, seeing my daughter sprawled across the new leather recliner and motioning for her to edge the volume to a more humane level.
"...How was your night?" she asked, straightening up a bit as she thumbed the remote.
"Good."
"It was great!" Teri burbled with a pleasantly inebriated slur. "And how was yours?"
"Just stayed around like I told you."
"Oh, you just need a good boyfriend, is what you need," my wife answered, skewering a playful finger in our daughter's general vicinity as she plopped herself back onto the couch.
Katie dredged up an uncomfortable smile but didn't say anything back. I settled down next to Teri and glanced at the television—ecstasy-ripped kids gyrating on an open-air stage over what had to be Times Square.
"So was it quiet around here?" I spoke up finally.
"Don't go changing the subject," Teri chided with feigned outrage, a wide grin splayed across her silken red lips—she was feeling no pain whatsoever.
"I..."
"You are too beautiful a girl..." she went on, turning back to Katie, numbly faltering over her own words.
"A very, very beautiful girl," I cut in, waggling an eyebrow as I spoke, feeling for my little girl as she shifted uneasily on the tines of her mother's gaze.
"Too beautiful to be sitting home alone on..."
"Mom, I'm..."
Inwardly I cringed, knowing that this was how it always got started with these two, Teri pushing her on some point, Kate getting prickly and hurt, saying something back and then...
"You just need to show off the goods a bit, kiddo," my wife said with a taunting giggle, sashaying a bit as she leaned forward and naughtily set her breasts swaying in that low-cut black dress.
"Ughh," Katie sounded under her breath, reaching down to switch channels, as if just for something to divert her mother off this particular tangent—Jackie Gleason suddenly prancing across the screen in some ancient Honeymooners rerun.
"Go 'Ugh-ugh' all you want, but this is how you have to get 'em interested, girlie. A little wiggle here an' a little waggle there." Teri smirked at me, unconsciously trailing her tongue over her upper lip—"Go on, tell her I'm right."
"I'll tell her I think it's time we go to bed," I offered judiciously.
"And when that doesn't do it, then you'll just have to get a bit more impetuous," Teri whispered conspiratorially across to her, her hand snaking right onto my lap, making me instinctively pull away from those marvelously expressive fingers. "...See."
I gently clasped Teri's wrist and glanced over at my daughter—she was shaking her head, hands over her eyes, as if absolutely mortified by it all.
"Time for bed," I repeated, easing my wife up off the sofa, realizing too late that she'd worked her usual magic and gotten me completely hard, the front of my trousers embarrassingly tented. I angled away from Katie, but was sure she'd probably seen it.
"Time for bed," Teri mimed, a pleased expression as she glanced down to my crotch.
"Good night," Katie muttered, still tossing her head a bit, still averting her eyes from us as we edged out of the room.
"Night, babe," I answered.
"...I'm getting lucky," Teri teased in a bright sing-song voice, loud enough to make sure our daughter caught every word. "I'm a getting lucky."
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"You protect her too much, you know that?" Teri was muttering as she stood in front of the dresser taking off her earrings.
"I just didn't want another argument," I answered softly, dropping my shirt into the hamper.
"She needs to get out there and date. Have some fun for god's sake!"
"I know what you're saying, but she's young, she has lots of time."
"Oh, come on," my wife scoffed dismissively. "You know Daddy is just dreading the day when some horned-out kid gets to..."
"Let's not talk about this, okay," I said, offering a mollifying smile.