Father and Daughter

Her shuddering grew tenser; I tasted her on my tongue, as I abandoned her clit, momentarily, and turned my attention to her pussy. I thrust my tongue in her, flapping it around, slowly at first.

With my thumb I rubbed her clit, while I moved my tongue circularly inside of her; she bloomed, thus allowing my tongue to go even deeper.

I felt her nails digging into my skull, as she pulled my hair quite violently; I continued, unfazed, kissing her pussy, rubbing her clit faster, harder. Her legs shut tight around my head, trapping me down there, and there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

Suddenly, she pulled me up, her mouth wide open as she panted heavily; she kissed me fervently, while my cock—once more hard—rubbed against her dripping pussy.

"Fuck me," she whispered, holding my head with both hands.

And I did, without uttering a single word; I guided my prick inside her and began spearing her. Her tightness overwhelmed me and for a moment, I was certain I'd finish all too quick.

Somehow, I managed to show tremendous self-control; I began pushing, burying my shaft deeper in her, stretching her tight pussy out.

Her arms wrapped around my neck firmly, holding my head trapped in her shoulder; she bit my earlobe and breathed heavily directly into my ear.

Thusly encouraged, I increased my pace; facing less and less resistance from her tightness, I was able to drill her harder. The couch moved backwards, creaking on the dirty wooden floor.

My balls were slapping hard against her wet cunt, as I pounded her fast; her strong legs were wrapped around my waist, pushing me deeper.

"That's it," she whispered in my ear seductively. "Just like that, keep...fucking...me...dad..."

I nearly stopped; being reminded of our relationship at that point in time did not do it for me. However, I was all too enraptured in the moment; it bothers me now, thinking back to the whole ordeal, but, at the moment, it was nothing but a momentary slap across the face.

She sought for the kiss; and I was all too eager to reciprocate. She sucked on my tongue, while I continued spearing her, driving my shaft deep in her, causing her body to rock along my thrusts.

Her eyes were pretty glazed, which caused me to smile. Suddenly, I turned her around, on her knees on the couch, and for a moment I simply marveled over her perfectly shaped ass. Then, I shoved my prick back in her pussy, which had now been stretched enough perfectly to accommodate me, and returned to pounding her.

She was rubbing her clit, while I was banging her; her convulsions caused her pussy to tighten its grip around my shaft, causing my knees suddenly to grow weak. However, I did not stop; instead, I only further increased my pace, slamming her as hard and fast as my physical condition would allow.

When she let out the first loud cry of joy, I slowed down; I let her feel my length through slow, long thrusts. She rubbed herself faster, howling into the room; I pulled out and a fountain of cum showered my lower body, while she squirmed on the couch, holding on her cunt tight.

After a few seconds, where her spasms began weakening, I went back to it, quite unfazed; I held her arms behind her back, arching her back hollow, thus allowing myself to plant long kisses on her neck and shoulders, while she continued to cry out in pleasure.

I kept pounding away, driving my throbbing prick deep in her; finally, her warmth and wetness overwhelmed me and I came, deep inside her. And while I unloaded in her, the way her convulsions engulfed my prick told me she, too, had come again.

I pulled out and a stream of cum gushed out of her pussy. Exhausted, we sat on the couch in a tight embrace, both panting heavily. Both of us perfectly content with remaining silent for a while.

After we drank a glass of vodka, she rushed to the bathroom; and as the heat of the moment faded away, and I remained naked on the couch drinking, I realized what exactly had happened and what potentially dire consequences it could have.

Hence, I drank straight from the bottle, desperate to drown morality and rationality.

* * * * *

The next two weeks had been quite awesome; though, in a way, problematic as well. Granted, Elizabeth and I developed a new relationship, we came closer (and came together multiple times), and it did make things seem brighter.

Of course, I couldn't get away from the dense mist that had surrounded me, the mist of having committed incest; and not only committed, but, enjoyed too.

But, nothing good ever lasts; it's what I've discovered through years of living, of trying to make it.

Elizabeth and I sat, as was our wont, on the couch, a half-empty bottle of bourbon between us, taking turns drinking straight out of it—we had obliterated the use of glasses to avoid unnecessary dishwashing.

"You know, dad," she said heavily, after a rather long courage-building sip, "I got a job offer yesterday."

"Sounds good," I said, far less excited than I should have been. "What is it?"

"To dance," she said, sorrowfully. "In Atlantic City..."

"Where?!" I sat up rigidly.

"Yeah," she smiled sadly. "And...I said yes."

"What?" I exclaimed, my voice coming out way too high-pitched. "Don't you think we should have...I don't know, discussed it first?"

"What's the point?" She shrugged, yet, her smile remained the saddest I've ever encountered. "From the start, we knew this was going to be temporary. I wasn't planning on living with you for the rest of my life.

"I need to go out there, be on my own; you know? I need it."

"Sure, I get it, I just thought...I..." I was at a complete loss for words, and breath.

"We're not going to end up like mom and Tim, dad. I would never allow it to happen."

"It's different, Elizabeth, it's..."

"Exactly the same," she chuckled, dryly. "Don't tell me you haven't..." she frowned. "My God," she brushed her hair off her forehead, staring at me in sheer disbelief, "you never did understand it!

"Or, didn't want to acknowledge it."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, yet, I knew; of course, I knew. I never wanted to accept it, but...

"They're fucking," she said and her laughter rang coldly and painfully in my head. Of course they did. "That's why he could never leave her side; they'd been fucking ever since...he turned 15, I think.

"Damn it," she sighed heavily. "Tell me you knew; I've always thought you were smart, dad."

"Yeah, I guess I did," I admitted. "I just...never wanted to believe it."

"'Cause it's wrong?" She asked, sarcastically.

"Yes...no...I don't know!" I threw my hands in the air, in complete resignation.

"It doesn't matter, anyway," she shrugged, with a warm, genuine smile. "The fact of the matter is, I'm leaving, dad. I have to."

"Because of..." a lump in my throat stopped the rest of the sentence from being uttered.

"No," she shook her head emphatically. "It was probably the best...yeah," she stopped.

Suddenly, we both fell silent; while it had been so easy to do, talking about it was extremely hard, nearly impossible.

"Are you sure, though? About the job, the location, the..."

"Yes," she nodded, faintly. "It's a new beginning, but...it's exactly what I need. What I've always wanted. I told you, dad, I only came here, to you, because I needed some time to figure my shit out."

"And you did."

"I...think so. I don't know."

"Well, Liz," I said, and her surprised smile warmed my heart, "you shouldn't know. You're still too young to know; if it's what you want, go for it. And...I'll always be here, if you ever need me again."

"No plans of moving, huh?" She punched, playfully, my shoulder. "Of...changing?"

"I see absolutely no reason for it," I shrugged. "I've kind of grown fond of this place, stupid as it may sound. Besides, I have a life here; not a great life, but...I guess, better than the one I had in our old home."

"You were never really happy there, were you? With mom, with us, with..."

"I was happy," I lied, "in a sense. At least, I had a family, a...yeah, maybe I wasn't that happy," I finally succumbed and admitted the cruel truth.

"I guess," she drew a deep breath, "none of us was really happy, dad. Maybe...going our separate ways did wonders to all of us."

"Yeah," I said melancholy and swilled down the warm bourbon, hoping the bottom of the bottle would withhold some answers, or, at the very least, some longed for comfort.

Nothing.

"Well," she got up, "I'll go pack."

"You're leaving now?" I asked, taken completely aback.

"Tomorrow morning; the club's owner's offered to give me a ride. And I saw no reason to delay the inevitable."

"And you're sure he's legit?" I insisted.

"Yes, dad," she said, sternly.

"You know better," I gave up.

"Thank you," she kissed me on the lips; a brief kiss, that was meant to be the last.

I spent the whole night drinking and, come morning, I was there, barely, to see her off; we hugged, we wished each other luck, and promised to stay in touch. Just another empty promise.

After she was gone, I finally passed out on the couch and I welcomed the dreamless blackout sleep.

* * * * *

Two years have gone by, seemingly in a flash.

I haven't heard a single word from Elizabeth; nor did I ever try to reach out to her. I suppose, we're both more ashamed of what happened than we'd like to admit.

Gina has moved in with me; she still dances and, with Elizabeth gone, she's the star once again, making enough money to sustain our drunk household.

I stopped writing altogether; I saw no point in continuing pursuing a meaningless occupation, for which I had no real talent. This is the first time I sat in front of my laptop to write in two years; drunk like a skunk, with two empty bottles next to me, I'm reaching the conclusion and I couldn't be happier and more miserable.

I take a final swill of bourbon, trying to come up with a nice morale with which to wrap the whole ordeal up; but, I realize, there's none to be found.

No nice morale, no happily-ever-after. I'm working for Dave, I'm his right hand in the strip joint; I still drink almost daily at the bar; Peter's novel was published, became a cult hit (he quit his job, but, he's still frequenting the bar, though he's become too hooked on junk, he's barely able to walk nowadays); Jerry was shot dead, when he hustled the wrong man; the new bartender is a tall blonde, who was once a prominent model, then got hooked on crystal meth and became one of us.

What else?

A drunk voice in my head told me to write the story of when I fucked my daughter. And this was it.