0 comments/ 28328 views/ 2 favorites Allie's Pilgrimage By: Pervygrrrl Mama had me when she was only sixteen. Way, way too young. I think she feared that I would end up like her, which is probably why I ended up at St. Mary's School for Girls. She spent my entire life trying to make sure I didn't learn the hard lessons she had to when she was still a kid. So I stayed pure and innocent as a babe through my entire childhood. Poor mama. I think she knew someday I would have to learn about the opposite sex. She probably dreamed that she would unveil Life's Great Mysteries to me the night before my wedding. But it didn't work out that way. Instead, on a rainy day the week after my 18th birthday, I became well too aware of everything I had been missing. Sometimes life's just like that. * ** I was soaking wet by the time I got home from school. Mama's car wasn't in the garage, I noticed, but Joe's was. Strange. He usually didn't get home till after I did. I left my soggy shoes on the step, hoping they'd dry out by tomorrow. As I dripped my way through the house, I stopped in the bathroom to grab a towel, and mopped at my hair and clothes as best I could. My standard white blouse clung damply to my contours, and the plaid skirt of my uniform hung limp. Still rubbing my hair dry, I was heading to my bedroom for a change of clothes when suddenly I heard a moan. Joe must have been in the bedroom. The door was closed. My real father cut out on my mom before I was born. Not too surprising, I guess. They were both just kids then, after all. So Joe was my step dad. He and mama had gotten together when I was about ten. He was younger than mama by about six years. Mama was still beautiful though, even at 34, and she looked like she might be under 30. But mama was always afraid that Joe would one day think she was too old, and would leave her for a younger woman. That's why I crept to the door and opened it just a crack, that day. Joe was alone. I could see that right away. But I was so stunned by the other stuff I saw at the same time that for a moment, I couldn't move. Joe was alone, sprawled on the bed in his boxers, rubbing a large hard lump in his crotch. That's when I noticed the television. Joe and my mom like watching the news at night while they're in bed. But the news wasn't on the tv today. Instead, there was a naked blonde woman with a black man's face planted in her crotch. She was moaning, and that was the sound I had heard. I watched, trying to figure out what was going on. The woman on the television writhed and squirmed and moaned, while the man's head moved. She held her breasts in her hands, rubbing her thumbs over the nipples. Suddenly the camera angle shifted and I could see what the man was doing between her legs. He was licking this woman's vagina. For some reason, I got a curious little shiver down my back when I realized this woman was enjoying it. "Mmm. There's a pussy I'd love to tongue-fuck," Joe murmured. Tongue-fucking. Was that what it was? I pressed my legs tighter together, realizing that I was tingling down there. Almost against my will, I pushed the door open a little wider so that I could see more of what was going on. Joe's hand was inside his boxers now. Now I could see both him on the bed and the whole television. The man continued licking, faster now. The woman was sitting on a couch, doing a split, holding her ankles apart in her hands. Her breasts began to jiggle. Then the camera slowly zoomed in. The man was sliding his tongue in and out of her pussy and I could see it in full detail. The woman moaned as the man's incredibly long tongue slid several inches of inside of her, wriggling all the way. My nipples suddenly contracted and inside my underwear I felt a spurt of wetness. I nearly moaned myself. Joe's abrupt movement caught my attention. He had whipped his boxers down, revealing something I had never seen before in my entire life. Underneath the boxers, where the lump had been, sprouted a long, hard object. He wrapped his hand around it and began to pump it in his fist. On the television, the man had risen to his knees between the woman's spread legs. Sweat was glistening on his buttocks as he began to press himself closer to her, jogging his rump back and forth. Joe began to groan, sliding his hand up and down that odd, fleshy shaft even faster. "Yeah baby, I want that pussy on my cock," the man on tv grunted. The camera angle shifted to a side view. Just like Joe, the black man had a long, hard object that he was pushing into the woman's body. Cock, was it? Impartially, I noticed that Joe's cock wasn't anywhere near as large as the other man's. But it didn't matter. I was enthralled, watching this man slide that monstrous thing into the woman's body, and it sliding out shiny and wet. He took up a rhythm, in and out, in and out, the woman begging him to do it harder, to do it faster. I hardly noticed that down below, between my own legs I was throbbing in time with his movements. I lived for the close-ups of that hard black cock pistoning itself into flesh. My heart was pounding and I nearly forgot to breathe. More than anything else in the world, I wanted this to be done to me. I needed it. Gradually, the black man began to pick up speed. He thrust himself harder and harder into her pussy, sheathing himself all the way up to the hilt. The harder he thrust, the more I could hear the wet sounds they made as they came together and pulled apart. And then Joe's hand froze on his own cock. He grunted and a stream of thick white fluid gushed from its tip onto his belly. After spasming a few more times, he went limp. Somehow, that broke the spell on me. My knees felt wobbly and I realized I was cold and wet and hadn't changed my clothes. I was about to leave, frustrated, unsure of what to do about the way I was feeling. But then Joe sat up on the bed, reaching for the box of kleenex on the night stand, and locked eyes with me. (To be continued.) Allie's Pilgrimage Ch. 02 “Allie!” Joe shot to his feet, grabbing at his shorts. I realized that we were both staring. My eyes were glued to his crotch where the now-limp flesh lay on a bed of curling hair. His eyes had become glued to my wet shirt. I looked down and realized that the wet cotton was transparent, and that the pattern of my lacy bra was clearly visible. So were the protruding outlines of my hard nipples. I gasped and covered them with my hands, suddenly feeling ashamed and dirty. I began to stutter, “I’ve... I’ve got to go change. I’m all wet.” Turning, I fled my parents’ room. In my own room I shut the door, leaning against it. My hands were shaking and my knees wobbled until I had to slide down the door, sitting on the floor. What had I just witnessed? Why did it make me feel this way? After a few minutes the chill of my cold wet clothes reminded me of why I had come in here. I shed my shoes and socks, shirt and bra and wet skirt, pulling a tight white camisole over my shoulders. That’s when I noticed that my panties were wet, too. Slowly, I stepped out of them, and nearly threw them in the laundry hamper when I noticed the smell. Confused, I stopped. They hadn’t gotten wet when I had been out in the rain. I brought them closer to my nose, sniffing carefully. It was an odor that I hadn’t ever noticed before, somewhat sweet and musky. Joe knocked on my door just then. “Allie?” he called, slightly muffled. Surprised, I quickly buried the panties deep in the bottom of my laundry hamper. “Just a minute! I’m getting dressed!” I dug new panties out of my dresser drawer and slid them on, then pulled on thick socks and my blue plaid pajama bottoms. Tousling my blonde hair with my fingers a little bit, trying to get it to air-dry faster, I finally opened the door for Joe. “Honey,” he began, cupping my shoulders in his arm as he led me over to my bed. There was an awkward pause as we sat down on the edge, next to each other. “Honey,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that this happened today.” I looked up into his face. So often, Joe had been more like a big brother to me than a dad like my friends had. I would be sorrier to lose that easy closeness between us. “No, I’m sorry Joe,” I said, rather sheepishly. “I came into your room without knocking. It’s my fault, not yours.” I stared down at my hands in my lap. Joe’s hand reached over to rest on my knee. “Well,” he said, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been watching that video this late in the day...” he paused, embarrassed. “But sometimes a man has needs...” He took a deep breath and barked a short laugh. “I can’t believe I’d have to be the one to give you this conversation, honey. Your mom should have done this so many years ago.” The thought of asking my mom any sort of questions about what I had just witnessed curdled my stomach. “It’s ok,” I assured him, even though half of me wondered what this conversation was supposed to be about. “Good,” Joe said, patting my knee. “I hope I didn’t scare you. I hope we can still be friends.” I thought about that. Despite the bizarre emotional turmoil I had felt while watching Joe stroke himself while watching that video, fear had definitely not been one of the things I had been feeling. I put my hand over his, interlacing our fingers. “No Joe, I wasn’t scared.” But what was it that I was feeling instead? I didn’t know. I looked over at Joe and realized he was staring again... but not at my face. His gaze was on the deep shadow of cleavage showing above the low neckline of the tight camisole top, where my skin was still slightly damp with beads of water dropping on my chest from my hair. Joe rubbed my leg gently, from knee to middle thigh. “But... how about we keep this little incident between you and me. Your mom wouldn’t be happy about this. And you and I have already made up, so we can forget about it, okay?” “Okay,” I whispered. Joe’s touch made my belly quiver. Deep between my legs I felt the throbbing again in time with my heartbeat. I wanted to spread my legs open... and do what? I wasn’t sure. All I knew for sure was that I didn’t want Joe to stop touching my leg. But... He took his hand away quickly and leaned in to kiss my forehead. Then he was gone, shutting my door behind him. I felt like heat was radiating from my body. Suddenly, I felt angry and depressed. What was wrong with me? Joe hadn’t explained anything at all and I had no idea what to do to make my body go back to normal. I didn’t even know what I was feeling or how to describe it. How could I even ask Joe what was happening? I got up and flopped down in the chair at my vanity. Grabbing a hairbrush, I began to run it ruthlessly through my damp locks, wincing as it caught on the tangles. I kept brushing my hair until it was nearly dry and then tossed it on the table in frustration. The round-bristled styling brush spun lazily in a circle where it had landed, coming to a stop with the bristled top pointing towards me. Something about the shape of the brush was familiar... Slowly, I picked it up by the bristles. The slender rubberized handle of the brush was cylindrical. With a little imagination it resembled an object I had seen earlier today. The memories of the black man thrusting his cock in between the women’s legs... into her pussy... came flooding back to me and the pulsing between my own legs grew stronger. What did it feel like, I wondered. The woman had looked like she was enjoying it. So did Joe for that matter. Without understanding why, I pulled my flannels and panties down to my ankles. The big tilted mirror of the vanity showed me the vista between my thighs that had previously been unseen. It looked just like the one I had seen on TV. Well, a little smaller, maybe. Kicking off my pants I lifted my feet and rested them on the edge of the table to get a better look in the mirror. How had that man’s huge cock fit inside of that woman? I looked with dismay at my own pussy. Was it supposed to be so tiny? I had never even inserted a tampon into it before. There was no way something the thickness of my arm could fit into it. I looked at the handle of the brush again. Suddenly, I felt compelled to stick it into that small dark opening of mine. Would it feel good? Self-consciously, I pressed the handle against the wet hole between my legs. Gently at first. The shaft of the brush sunk in about a half an inch and stopped. It was tight, even considering the fact that the handle was thin. I could feel my body stretching open for the passage of this hard object. But without a doubt, I knew this was what I needed. The throbbing sensation grew more intense, as if my entire stomach was contracting. I pushed the brush again, sliding it into my pussy another inch. It felt so good to have something inside of me that I couldn’t help myself. I moaned. Holding it firmly by the top part of the handle, I began to slide the brush in and out, remembering what that man’s cock did inside the woman. But as the brush slid deeper inside of me, the picture in my mind’s eye changed. It was no longer the black man’s cock pressing in and pulling out. It was Joe’s. Joe’s hard cock sliding into my pussy, over and over. It was by accident that I touched the hard knob of flesh at the top of my slit. Once I touched it, though, I realized that this is what was throbbing so insistently. The sensation nearly made me faint. Everything began to blur together. As the feelings got more intense, Joe’s cock began to pump faster inside of me and the hard bump sent pleasurable shocks to my brain every time he thrust deep. I was dripping, oozing wetness that lubricated his movements like a well-oiled machine. Suddenly, it was all too much, and my muscles clenched, gripping around the hardness in my pussy like a closing fist as the most incredible sensation washed over me. For a moment, I blacked out. I came to with my feet still propped up on the table, the brush half-embedded inside of me. It hadn’t been Joe inside of me after all. For some reason, I was oddly disappointed. I pulled the brush out with a wet slurp, remembering how good it felt. Could it possibly be better than this? What would it be like if it were really Joe’s cock inside of me instead of just this? It made me tremble again just thinking about it. * * * I slept in the next morning, having been troubled all night by the most vivid pornographic dreams. Mom had to yell at me twice to get up or I would be late. By the time I got downstairs for breakfast, she was heading out the door. She had a long commute to work and back and had to leave before I went to school. Joe was already sitting at the table, reading his paper and eating Shreddies. Keeping my face down so that he wouldn’t notice my flush, I grabbed a bowl and plunked it down beside him in my usual spot. But I had slept in so late that the cereal had been put back up on the top shelf of the cupboard. Instead of ask for his help in reaching it, I strained to grasp the corner of the box with my fingertips. I nearly had it but the box popped out of my grasp, sliding backwards an inch. Now I couldn’t reach it at all. Suddenly Joe was standing behind me, reaching up to grab the box for me. He pressed up against me to reach it because he was only a couple of inches taller than I was. I froze, realizing that his pelvis was pressed against my butt. And that Joe’s cock was decidedly stiff. “Here you go, hon,” Joe said, his voice sounding strange. He dropped the box on the counter next to me and sat back down quickly. I looked over at him, watching as he spooned cereal into his mouth with grim determination while he studied his paper. I stared at the box of cereal then and realized that it wasn’t food I was hungry for. Instead, it was something darker, something that I had no name for. Something that my mother had tried all my life to keep me from knowing about. “Thanks, Joe,” I mumbled, “but I think I’d better get dressed or I’ll be late.” I left the box sitting on the countertop and dashed back upstairs to get dressed for school. I showered quickly and dressed once again in my school uniform. White, unadorned cotton blouse over a plain bra. Plaid skirt ending no higher than six inches above the knee, with dark panties underneath. White knee socks and plain black shoes. I stared at myself in the mirror--the same mirror I had examined myself in the night before. I thought again about the feel of the brush inside and Joe’s semi-erect cock pressed hard against my rear. Just like that, I was so hot and wet that my knees nearly buckled. I could feel my panties growing slick as I imagined Joe pulling down my PJs in the kitchen and penetrating me from behind. Joe’s cock, hard and in my pussy instead of just pressed against my cheeks. Joe... Joe... Joe. I lifted my skirt quickly and slid my fingers into my soaked panties. I needed release again. My fingers rubbed the hard bump and I sat down heavily in my chair at the vanity, moaning. It felt wonderful to touch myself like this. But something was missing... Quickly, I slid the crotch of my panties to the side and inserted my brush again, moaning as it slipped deep inside of me. I arched my back and bucked my hips as it filled me up. I rubbed harder and harder with my fingers, pressing my thighs together, while I slid the brush in and out with my hand beneath my legs. I gasped in little breaths as the handle wiggled within me, applying pressure to the walls of my pussy. Oh, if only it were Joe doing this to me instead...! My vision whited out again as the pleasure became unbearable. The brush seemed to pump itself into me of its own accord as my muscles spasmed, and I bit back an unholy cry of delight. My gaze fell, then, on the clock. It was nearly 8 o’clock. I was late for school. (To be continued.) Allie's Pilgrimage Ch. 03 I could barely pay attention to anything all day. It's been like this all week long, ever since I caught Joe in his bedroom. But today it was especially hard to keep my mind on things. I was standing in the washroom stall furthest down the row. One of the ones that almost never gets used. I was leaning back against the tiled wall with my plaid skirt hiked up immodestly high, trying desperately to give myself some relief. If this was any indication of why, I could definitely understand the motivation for women to shave the kinky hair growing on their pussy lips. But I definitely have to wonder how clean-shaven women get anything done. Last night I remembered how the woman I saw in Joe's movie had only a strip of hair left on her mound. This morning, in the bathtub, I thought I'd give shaving down there a try. I had no idea how good it would feel. I already decided I would never grow hair there again. Walking was exquisite torture. Each step rubbed the baby-smooth softness of my nether lips together. And when I sat down, the little ergonomic curve in the moulded plastic seat of the chair pressed as enticingly and firmly against my clit as my fingers have been doing these last couple of days. All morning long, it's been all I could do not to rub myself up against that ridge. By 10 o'clock in the morning, I had to throw my panties out. I made for the bathroom and stuffed them, soaking wet, into the napkin waste disposal container in the corner. And then I hiked my skirt up. I've been bad. Real bad. It's 11:30, now, and I've missed my History class. I've never skipped a class in my life before. But then, I've never been this hot. The wall was cold against my bare buttocks, but somehow that just made everything more intense. I could hear the soft smacking sound of my flesh against tile as I rode my fingers, bringing myself towards another intense wave of pleasure. I forgot how many I had already. It might have been three. Probably more. My hips bucked and my hand froze as I spasmed again, trying desperately to bite back a scream that still snuck out as a loud groan. I could feel my juices leaking down my thighs, dripping close to my white stockings. My knees nearly gave out, and I had to lean hard against the wall. I couldn't keep this up. It was nearly lunchtime, and if I stayed here pleasuring myself I was sure to get caught. I couldn't let people find me fingerfucking myself silly in the girl's washroom. I had to go home. * * * Despite the slick trail of wetness I had left running down the bathroom wall, the journey home was no easier to bear. I was so horny and distracted that it was like being stricken blind. I barely remember entering the house. I only know that I found myself and my brush in my parents' empty bedroom. I remembered seeing the tapes in Joe's underwear drawer, left ajar that day earlier this week. Cautiously, I pulled his drawer open again. There, in all it's unlabeled glory, was Joe's stash of films. I took one at random and stuck it into his VCR, hopping onto the bed with the remote control. It must have been pure serendipidous fate that I pulled out the tape I did. I had picked out a tape of a girl "losing her virginity." With eyes the size of saucers, I watched as the unsuspecting co-op student was seduced and deflowered by her boss, a man of greater than substantial endowment, on his ultra-modern glass desk. Seated on the edge with her skirt hiked up to her waist, she demurely turned her head away when he ripped out the crotch of her pantyhose and pressed the head of his throbbing cock inside of her. I watched, hardly able to breathe, as the camera tracked in for a closeup. His hips began to pump slowly, forcing himself into her millimeter by millimeter, and her innocence faded with every push; her mien grew more wanton. Mine did as well. The rhythmic pulsing going on between my legs was fast becoming unbearable, and how desperately I wished that I was the recipient of that monster prick. I was fucking myself with my brush in time to his movements, but something was still missing. I was still hungry in a way I had never known before, and until I got what I needed, my appetite was going to be insatiable. I moaned long and low in my throat, a sound of desperation and mingled pleasure. And in response, I heard a sharp gasp. It seemed that if my choice in videos was guided by some unseen force, so too was Joe's decision to come home early that day. Alone in the house, thinking I was safe for several hours, I hadn't shut my parents' door. So Joe had been greeted at the door by the sound of moaning pornstars, had made his way to the doorway of his room, only to discover me half naked on his bed, masturbating to one of his movies, so totally engrossed that I never realized he was there. I might have died of embarrasment, I think. If I hadn't seen the lust in his eyes and the bulge in his pants that my condition provoked. "Allie, honey," he began in a strangled voice. "What are you doing in here?" How could I explain what I was doing to the man who was the only father I've ever known? What I so desperately needed? I pulled my skirt down, wondering if I was going to cry. He sat down on the bed beside me, trying not look at the television, where the co-op was facedown on the glass tabletop now, breasts smooshed against its surface, being rocked by the force of her boss' thrusts. He tried not to look at me either, or the bed where my brush lay, handle still glistening with my juices. He was having a difficult time finding anywhere safe to direct his eyes. "It's ok, baby, it's ok," he said awkwardly, rubbing my back with a hand. "It's a normal part of growing up, really, to... uh... masturbate." Then he laughed, shortly. "I thought this was only something fathers had to have discussions with teenage sons about." The feeling of him rubbing his hand on me inflamed me further. "What?" I asked, feeling almost like I had done something criminal. "Girls aren't supposed to masturbate?" "No, no," he assured me quickly. "Honey, when you start having... relations with a man, you'll find out that most of them like it when women... touch themselves." I looked up at him, and saw he was telling the truth. His eyes were warm, and... "So..." I temporized, "you like it when women touch themselves?" He flushed, slightly embarrassed, and grinned. "Absolutely." "And... did you like what I was doing to myself?" Joe coughed, cleared his throat. "Honey, the important question when it comes to masturbation is, uh, whether or not *you* like it." "I did like it," I admitted softly. "But..." "But what, Allie?" I looked back up at the screen, where there was another closeup of that monstrous cock sliding in and out of the girl's pussy. Something clenched inside of me, making my legs feel weak with desire. "Does it... feel good?" "Sex...?" Joe asked. "Yes, baby, it feels wonderful." There was a tense moment, and I knew we were on the verge of something exciting and forbidden. I willed him, suddenly to touch me. Almost as if he heard my thoughts, his hand gingerly touched my leg. The touch was like fire, and inside me, something snapped. I spred my legs slightly, and though this was obviously not what he expected to happen, something in him responded as well. "Allie," his voice was choked and husky. "I shouldn't do this..." "I won't tell, I promise. I won't tell mom." He let out a low groan. "Oh, God, Allie..." And then, frustrated need overtook him, and he swept me into his arms. "You want me to be sweet to you, honey?" he breathed heavily into my ear. "You want me to do to you what he's doing to her?" Joe had set me on his lap, and his hands slid beneath my short, plaid skirt to cup my buttocks. Never had I felt anything so wonderful in the world... until he squeezed me closer to him, rubbing my naked pussy over the hard bulge in his jeans. I squirmed on his lap, trying to rub more of myself on him, feeling the crotch of his jeans grow slick and wet. His heavy breathing excited me almost as much as the pressure between my legs. "Yes... please..." He nuzzled me closer, thrusting his hips a little. "All right, I'll make my little girl into a woman," he whispered. "But I want her to call me daddy." The lewdness of the remark shocked and excited me. Whatever it was that turned him on about being called daddy right now was turning me on too. "Please, daddy, be sweet to me," I gasped. "You bet I will, honeypie." Joe pushed me backwards onto the bed and ripped open the front of my blouse, snapping two buttons clean off. "Undo your bra for me." "Yes, daddy," I whispered, releasing the clasp in front and sliding the straps down off my arms. Joe reached down and flicked away the bra, leaving my blouse hanging open down the front. He stared at the half-exposed curves of breast peeking out from under the edges and gently smoothed back the cloth to expose my nipples. The contact of his hands on my breasts sent a convulsion through me. My nipple hardened on contact and I shuddered as he reached back to rub it gently between thumb and forefinger. "You're so beautiful," he murmered, filling his eyes with my flesh. He slowly slid his other hand up my thigh, pushing the edge of my skirt before it, exposing a neatly shaven patch. Then he withdrew both hands and stared, rubbing the soaked patch of his pants a little. Suddenly, he stood and was out of his clothing almost faster than I could see. Naked, he crawled back on the bed beside me, his erect, throbbing penis jutting out, moving slightly, as if reaching for me. "You still want this, baby?" He asked, taking my hand and rubbing it over his cock. I closed my hand around it and played with it, feeling the soft skin slide over the rock-hardness beneath. Rubbing my hands over it made me feel even more wet below. "Yes, daddy, please, I want it." Joe leaned over to kiss me, and at the moment his lips parted and he thrust his tongue into my mouth, he slid his first finger into my tight, wet pussy. I cried out, spasming involuntarily, at the welcome invasion of my body. He slowly began to thrust the finger in and out, copying the movement with his tongue in my mouth. "Mmm, you're so tight, baby," he whispered in between thrusts. It felt wonderful, every bit as wonderful as his smile told me it would be. Even the small stretch as he slid his midde finger in beside the first was nothing compared to how it felt when he began to wiggle them inside of me. He leaned heavily on my side, thrusting both fingers up against the top wall of my cunt, fucking my mouth with his tongue, for what seemed to be hours. And then, he popped my cherry. With his two fingers, he stretched me open until I tore, and kissed my face until I settled. "Did that hurt, honey?" he asked, concerned. "No..." I said slowly, realizing that it didn't hurt much at all. "I feel ok now." He brushed hair out of my face. "Do you like it?" I nodded vigorously, "Good, because Daddy can't wait to get his cock inside of your sweet little pussy." I giggled, then, spreading my legs further open. "Will I like this too?" "I sure hope so," he laughed. "Because I'll be unhappy if I don't get to do it again!" With a long groan of pleasure, he settled himself on his elbows, leaning into me a little. I wriggled a bit, feeling the skin of my mound and nipples sliding against his smooth, slightly furred flesh. Then he positioned his cock at my entrance, pushing ever so slowly. I could feel myself stretching, my insides shifting to accomodate him. It was such an odd feeling at first that I didn't even notice pain. It was only a little uncomfortable, until he sheathed his entire length inside my cunt. And then the discomfort eased. "How's that?" he asked, bumping his crotch against me a little. I wrapped my legs around him and he bumped again. This time, it rubbed my clit and I shivered a little. "It feels good," I said, trying to rub him against me some more. With a chuckle, he began to fuck me, groaning long and slow as he withdrew, my flesh trying to hold him tight inside. I moaned and tried to hold him as well with arms and legs, but not so much that he couldn't keep producing that wonderful sensation growing between my legs as friction built. Gradually, he built up speed, and the shaft of his cock slid more easily in and out of my pussy. As Joe pumped in and out, over and over, a sheen of sweat grew between us, slickening the movement of our bodies over one another. My nipples grew hard as his chest rubbed against mine, and before I realized what was happening, his thrusting against my clit brought me to peak of pleasure so intense it was painful. My sudden orgasm caught Joe by surprise, and my muscles milked him so hard that he came as well. I felt his cock pumping a flood of semen into me as he cried out "Come for Daddy, honey. That's right...!" He thrust into me a few more times and then collapsed in a sprawl against me. I had never felt so terrible in my life. The only man I had ever known as my father was slumped between my legs, his limp tool slithering slowly out of me as it shrunk back to its normal size. I felt sticky, sweaty, dirty and I ached in places I didn't even know existed. Joe rolled over, kissing my cheek and fondling my breast. "Remember, honey, this is our little secret." In spite of myself... once more I felt warmth between my legs. I was bad... I was evil. I was going to burn in hell, fucking my father. But I knew I wouldn't be able to wait till he did it to me again. (To be continued...)