A Driving Lesson

Natasha's hips bucked and she gasped and her head lolled back, the blonde ponytail brushing the grass.

By then Barry Laker was sucking his daughter's clitoris. He was mindless to the morality, careless to the future, his daughter was beautiful and young and vibrant and so incredibly hot that desire for her superseded any other emotion. He was so aroused by her that logical thought would only return when that white ball of flaming lust had burned itself out. Barry would only truly realise what he had done when the monster had gorged on incest.

*

Natasha's first climax hit her after her father had licked and slurped and sucked and fingered her for less than three minutes. The orgasm rushed through her, had her gasping and moaning while her thighs juddered and she buckled at the waist, squealing at her daddy to suck at her.

Then, while the aftershocks of that first delight she experienced on her father's tongue flickered through her limbs, Natasha hauled Barry Laker up along her front, bringing his face close to hers as she leaned forward and mumbled, "Kiss me. Dad, please kiss me."

The kiss thrilled Natasha. It was so intimate, kissing her own father, their tongues sliding and writhing, so much more exciting than even having him lick her pussy. To Natasha, kissing that way expressed love, proper romantic love, and having her father's tongue in her mouth, tasting her own sex on him sent an arterial burst of love and yearning through the girl.

"Dad," gasped Natasha when she broke away. "Are we going to fuck?" She gulped and stared into her father's intense gaze as he gaped back at her. "Are we, Daddy?" she whined, hips jerking. "Are we going to fuck?"

Barry pulled back, kneeling upright. "Tash?" he mumbled, blinking. "Natasha?" Barry's head shook from side-to-side. "Oh my God," he gasped, his eyes going to his daughter's vulva. "What am I doing?"

"Please," the girl breathed. She was on one side, body slightly twisted as she rested on a hip and an elbow, her father between her spread legs. Natasha yanked up the hem of her skimpy top and revealed the taut, round mounds of her little breasts. Then she sat up and hauled the garment over her head. "Please, Dad," she hissed. "Don't stop now. I'm so fucking horny..."

"Baby," Barry Laker muttered. "Shit, Tash, you're my daughter. Don't say that." He grabbed Natasha's discarded top. "Put that back on," he said, eyes widening as the realisation of what he'd done hit him. "For God's sake, Natasha," spat Barry, "cover yourself up!"

But his daughter refused to comply. She shook her head, refusing to obey, defying her father with narrowed eyes, her hand going between her legs as she reclined once more.

"I want you to do it to me, Dad," Natasha moaned, fingers spitting her labia. "I want to feel you inside me, Daddy. I'm so ready for you. My pussy is so wet and hot. It itches, Daddy. I want you to do it to me. Love me. Love your daughter."

It was Natasha's use of the L-word that sent her father over the edge. Desire for her overwhelmed him again, and the loose finger hold of morality slipped from the ledge, sending Barry Laker into the abyss.

*

THEY WERE at the car, both of them reckless with the intensity of their mutual yearning, their actions beyond normal control.

Barry was naked from the waist down. He had stripped out of his shoes and socks and jeans before his daughter had moved to him, kneeling in the grass, bare-breasted and smirking as she'd reached for his erection.

"I'm going to suck your cock," the girl had murmured, and that lewd statement coming from those lips had made Barry groan.

"Shit, Natasha," the man had muttered. "This is so wrong." Then he gasped when those lips had closed over the dome of his cock-head. Barry hissed and stared at the sight of his beautiful daughter's lips pursed around a part of her father's body she should never have even seen let alone touched or tasted. "Oh no," he had mumbled, shocked at the sin yet utterly powerless to resist.

The girl had gommed Barry's cock, a shocking sight as jealousy flared and he wondered with whom she'd done it before. Barry looked down at his daughter, saw her fist cranking at him while her quick tongue flashed wet and pink over his rigid flesh.

"You gonna fuck me, Daddy?" she'd smirked, her expression a mix of feral hunger and precocious intent.

"You shouldn't say that to me, Tash," Barry had muttered, still trying to resist despite knowing it was about to happen.

Natasha had risen to her feet and run from him, unpinning the kilt as she went, the feminine shape of her bringing Barry to his feet.

She reached the car as Barry followed the loveliness of his daughter's nudity.

Then, wearing just her shoes, Natasha had turned and lifted one leg, a knee going up onto the bonnet of the Audi. She had draped herself along the front of the car and looked back over her shoulder, a hand going back to part her buttocks while she used the other hand against the angled stanchion between the windscreen and front door as a support.

Barry had seen the cerise wink of his daughter's pussy, and the taut, athletic body presented to him. He moved to her, cranking his dick as he went, getting close to Natasha, the twin globes of her buttocks tight and symmetrical, the thigh of the leg supporting her weight taut.

"You're perfect, baby," Barry breathed as he aimed the cock-head at his daughter's opening. "So bloody lovely."

"I'm yours," the girl grunted when her father's penis penetrated her. "This can't ever be undone, Dad. We're doing it. We're fucking."

*

THEIR FIRST time was a very fast, very intense burst of frantic activity. The slow loving would come later, when Barry and Natasha took every opportunity to make love in the days and weeks and years to come. But that first time, that insane coupling where they could have been discovered at any moment, they were mad for one another.

Natasha gasped and grunted and grappled with the slippery metal of the unyielding surface of the car's bodywork while her father fucked into her. She shocked Barry with the words she used, exhorting her father to acts of depravity on a potty-mouthed torrent of gutter language.

Barry held on for as long as he could, the need to let go growing ever more imperative.

Even if the girl hadn't been his daughter, her body alone would have sent Barry wild with lust. Natasha was so firm, so slender, with even her back a cause for arousal, the curve and sweep as her torso tapered slightly into that narrow waist, her hips and then the round buttocks made him gulp with disbelief that he was actually fucking into such a lovely young woman.

The surge began when Barry leaned in and cupped the spongy softness of one breast, Natasha's low groan that he maul her tits reminding Barry that she was his kin.

He gasped and grunted and muttered he was about to explode. "Shit, Natasha," Barry hissed, teeth clenched as he held the girl's waist. "I'm going to..."

Then, head lolling, Barry snorted, a great sob bursting out of him a moment later when he tensed and thrust deep.

"Natasha!" Barry cried, the thought coming at him like an express train in the moment before his orgasm burst and ejaculate flooded his daughter. "Is it safe to do it? I'm coming, baby, is..." Barry gulped and moaned, eyes rolling. "...Is it safe to come inside you?"

And then it didn't matter, the risk and the future consequences evaporated as everything was sucked in to Barry's core. All the considerations and concerns condensed and then squirted out of the man as he held on to his daughter's body and pumped semen into her.

Knowing her father was coming tipped Natasha over the edge as well, and the girl grunted and moaned and urged her father to fill her with his love.

It went on for half a minute and more, with Natasha's climax holding Barry inside her writhing body well after his purging had subsided. The young woman mumbled and sobbed and babbled on about love and how good it felt to have her father's cock inside her body.

"Natasha," Barry gulped when he slid from his daughter's molten embrace, a dollop of semen plopping out of the girl, a heavy blob of jizm that glistened on the gravel close to Natasha's silver shoe. "I'm sorry, baby, I came in you..."

The girl turned with a smile of pure delight on her face, her expression loving.

"Oh, Daddy," she breathed, pressing her firm body against her father's chest. "It doesn't matter. Don't worry. I'm okay." Then she kissed him, a slow lingering expression of love for her father. "I want you to do it to me again. That stuff inside me, Dad ... I love it."

Natasha led her father back to the picnic spot where they would make love again, neither one voicing any thoughts about Natasha's mother or what the consequences of their incestuous affair might be.