Incest
2005-03-16

The weather was perfect. It was 83 degrees that afternoon. The sun made everything appear shiny and new. This year promised to be one of the greatest years ever. I was 19 years old and planned to start college within a few weeks. I was going for my nursing degree. I always wanted to be a nurse. My mom is a nurse and my dad is a doctor. That was actually how they met. He was doing his residency at her hospital. Afterward he found a position at another hospital but they kept in touch and the rest, as they say, is history.

 

This particular day, it was around 1:30 in the afternoon and I was driving down Michigan Avenue after a mini-shopping spree at the mall. My car was nothing fancy. In fact it wasn’t fancy at all. A Geo. Nuff said.

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   I knew nothing about him, other than the fact that he was unbelievably cute. He pulled up in a truck. His attire screamed mechanic, lower middle class worker probably on his way to his next job. He also was very cute.

 

He pulled up beside me and gunned his engine. That was how he caught my attention. It was his smile that held it. Blue. He wore blue. A dark blue shirt with the sleeves cut off (straight out of the eighties), and denim pants. Most importantly he had muskles. That’s right: muskles. Not the bulging kind that said he spent countless hours in the gym, but rather the kind you knew he got through hard labor. His arms were tight and lean and his hands on the steering wheel looked rough and dirty. He was so my type.

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   The type I could never bring home to daddy. The type that I decided I had to stay away from, at least for a little while, until daddy calmed down. He was still a little bit upset over the whole Malik experience. Le sigh. I hope that boy is all right, wherever he is.

 

Smiling my regret, I pulled away without a second glance as soon as the light turned green. Spotting the nearest gas station, I pulled in and went inside to put money on the pump. When I came back, guess who was leaning a hip against the hood of my little brown car. With arms all crossed and muskles bulging, there he stood — Mr. Sexy himself.   Damn, those jeans. Oh God, he filled them out just right.   A girl could wrap her thighs right around…le sigh. Never mind.

 

I stuffed the remainder of my cash in the front part of my jeans and walked over to the car.

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   Moving around him like he wasn’t there, I opened the door, popped the gas tank and proceeded to pump my gas. When I looked at him again he was still leaning, watching me with a cocky smirk. Did I mention I love cocky?

 

“What’s your name?”

 

Ohhhh. Deep. My pussy just doesn’t know how to act, boy. She was starting to act a little crazy, jumping around in my panties like she ain’t never seen a fine mother fucker before with a voice that sung ‘I was made for fucking…. ’ Okay, maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but he was sexy and I was horny.

 

“Brianna. ”

 

“Pretty. ”

 

Click! The gas stopped. Five dollars didn’t take you as far as it used to. I replaced the nozzle back on the cradle.

 

“Brianna?”

 

I sighed (I sigh a lot; have you noticed?). I didn’t want to look at him or acknowledge him. I knew what he wanted.

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   I also knew I would say yes.

 

“Wanna have some fun?”

 

I turned and looked into those eyes.

 

“What kind of fun?”

 

There was that smirk again. “Follow me. ”

 

I’m such a hoe. I’m a hoe with no morals and a weak pussy. I’m going to hell.

 

I hopped into my little Geo and followed him through a series of side streets, leading up to a subdivision of sorts — a family neighborhood. “What the fuck?”

 

We went a little further and finally he pulled into a small community park, a good distance from the family homes. It was a weekday so parents were at work and kids were at school. It was a low traffic area. I get it now.

 

He hopped out the cab and dropped the tailgate. From the metal box he pulled out a blanket and spread it across the bed.

 

“Come here often?”

 

He looked back and smiled at me.

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   I copped his cocky pose as I leaned my hip against my Geo, watching him work.

 

“Nahhhh. You’re the first. ”

 

“Uh huh. ”

 

 He moved down to the edge and sat there, legs hanging. “Come here, Brianna. ”

 

I walked up to him and found my way between his legs. He kissed me and it was on. I climbed on top of him, feeling him, measuring him. I spread my thighs and rotated my hips. He was hard, solid, and eager. He watched me move. Watched my body slowly grind against his. I took a deep, slow breath, going with the moment, seeing where it led.

 

He leaned back, lazy-like, resting on his elbows, looking up at me with a tilted down head.

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   It was the best come-hither stare I’ve ever seen on a man. I raised my skirt and pushed aside my panty thong and began playing with my clit in front of him. I watched him watch my pussy as I manipulated it for my pleasure. The moisture began to slowly flow and I knew what he saw, because I felt it coat my fingers as it coated my pussy lips, my hair and my tiny little bud. Just when the flow began to slide down my fingers like syrup and onto my panties, I caught the drops and pushed them back home where they came from. I dipped in my puss with three fingers and rubbed my juices into my pink, wet skin.

 

He reached over and pushed two of his own fingers in between mine, inside my pussy and together we rubbed and rubbed, until I got very close to letting go. I rocked against the pleasure. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, exploring the feeling. After a minute, he reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt. A smooth, hairless, muscled chest came into view as well as the shiny glint of metal — a nipple ring piercing his hard, dark nub. He reached up and gripped my face and pulled me to his chest. My tongue wrapped around the loop. I traced it, moving back and forth over it. I caught it in my teeth and gently pulled.

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   He moaned at the action. He gripped the back of my head and pulled me upward.

 

Our lips met in an all-consuming kiss. Before long our positions were reversed and he was on top. As I leaned back, supporting myself on my elbows, he straddled my hips, kneeling over me. Breaking our kiss, he stood up and reached down and unzipped his dirty jeans. He pushed his pants and underwear to mid-thigh, which was as far down as they could go with such a wide open-leg stance. Then he reached in a pocket and pulled out his wallet. A square foil wrapper came out of it, but I barely saw it; what I saw was him, poking out at me. His cock was short, but thick and dripping juice. Unable to resist, my tongue shot out and caught a drop before it landed somewhere on my thigh. I followed the path of that drop to the pulsing cock that it came from and licked my way down its veiny sides. He worked the condom on his cock despite my interfering tongue.

 

“Turn around. Get on your knees.

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  â€

 

I obeyed. Within seconds his cock pierced my tight pussy and he started to fuck me. My pussy protested at first, making movement hard for him. It’s been so long since she had any attention, but within a few strokes he paused and pulled out. Instead smaller digits entered my body, spreading me slowly with each stroke, pooling liquid onto his fingers. I heard him groan behind me at the sight.

 

“I need to be fucked so bad,” I whispered. “It’s been so long. Don’t worry. You’ll fit. I’ll make you fit. I just can’t wait. Please?”

 

Within seconds a wider, round tip filled me again. My breathing stopped as he slid in, much easier this time. This burning tip plunged into me, bringing fire in its wake.

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   I felt myself pushing back, trying to force him to penetrate me more, but he held my hips and prevented me from taking way his control.

 

“Damn, you’re tight,” he said as he pushed harder. My body jerked forward with the motion and my nipples tightened to the point of pain. I spread my legs wider, trying to make room and bore down. It wasn’t the length. It was the girth. It was driving me crazy. I felt my puss pulse around it. My heartbeat danced to a different rhythm by means of my pussy walls.

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I wiggled again, trying to pull him in deeper. Finally giving in, he plunged inside until his hipbone bounced against my ass. My pussy instantly contracted. Sensation after sensation poured through my body with that tightening. I moaned from the sweet agony, a horrific bliss.  

 

“Make me scream,” I begged.

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   “Fuck the shit out of me and show me no mercy. I need it. I need it hard and I need it rough. Fuck me baby, please. Fuck me. ”

 

He reached over and grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked it back as his cock plunged inside me, again and again slamming against my flesh. Over and over, fucking my hungry little hole raw. I didn’t know it at the time, but my ass was quickly turning a dark red where his pelvic bone beat into it repetitively. I jerked and pushed against him, increasing the pain, loving the pleasure as my hungry pussy sucked on his hard flesh, eating it alive as he raped it with such force. My pussy began to contract so tightly, it became a struggle for him to pull out and push back in, but he managed. Over and over he slammed into my body. I was jerked back and forth as he pulled on my head. His hand in my hair pulled me back, but his cock pushed me forward, causing my back to arch unnaturally as each fuck brought me closer and closer to my never ending goal.

 

“You’re killing me,” I cried.   “I fucking love it!”

 

I needed it so much and he delivered.

 

   I felt it happening — the cumming. It was in me. It was building and he was taking me there with each and every plunge inside my red, aching hole. I began to lose all feeling in my head and my neck and my ass. All I felt was my burning pussy as I spun out of control, as I nutted in a climax so strong and so long I had no breath left for the silent scream that burst through my body. Euphoria flowed over me.   The world ceased to exist.  

 

I sank down onto the truck bed, head first as I had no energy to hold myself up, but he didn’t stop. He continued to fuck me, faster and faster and harder than ever. I cushioned my face in my arms and took the harsh brutal pounding he gave me. I could no longer feel a thing. He pushed and pushed until I fell completely from my knees and onto my stomach. He fucked me from behind as I laid flat. My thighs weren’t as opened as before and the fuck became even tighter. I swore at some point he was fucking the skin off from my pussy.

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   My body had locked down and was completely numb. After what seem like forever, I heard him gasp above me and give a half-hearted bellow as he nutted his seed deep inside my pussy. His body jerked uncontrollably with the expulsion and he pushed into me, pounding me into the floor of the truck bed.

 

I felt him fall on top of me, exhausted. His body nailed me onto the hard surface. His thick breathing surrounded me for minutes on end, until finally, he rolled off me onto his back. For a long moment there was silence. The heat of the sun warmed my exposed flesh. Just as I was about to lose myself in the deepness of sleep I heard his voice.

 

“Oh shit!”

 

“What? What is it?” I turned to face him, though I didn’t open my eyes.

 

“Nothing. ”  I heard the snap of the condom as he pulled off the rubber. I opened my eyes just as he flung it somewhere over his shoulder.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“Nah. It’s cool.

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   Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s nothing. Come here…”

 

He reached out and pulled me close and kissed me — a tender kiss. I was surprised. It was actually…nice.

 

“That was fun… maybe we can do this again. ”

 

I smiled. I knew from a guy like him that was a great compliment.

 

“I’ll let you know after my nap, but then again if you can guarantee to give me an exact repeat performance I can guarantee a yes. ”

 

*****

 

 

The door slammed behind me with force. The springs were coiled too tight and dad had yet to fix it. Not that he was much of a handyman to begin with, but he did pretty well, considering. Mom feared that one day all that slamming would jar the window in the frame, forcing it to break, making the problem worse and more expensive to solve. Her theory was not unfounded.

 

I walked into the kitchen and there was mom, browsing the paper for coupons.

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   She was a wiz at that sort of stuff, saving us hundreds of dollars a year with her little shopping habit. I leaned over and kissed her. I love my mother, very much. She has been the greatest mother. I have a relationship with her that I knew many of my friends didn’t have with their mothers.

 

We were friends, very close friends. You would think that closeness would be reason enough for me to stop from doing the things I do with her husband when she is unaware. I am abusing her trust, I know, yet I do it anyway. I do it because I like what I do at night with her husband, when no one else is around. I like the badness of it. No man affects me the way he does. No man has ever made me nearly pass out from the pleasure of his touch, his very presence. No man is like my daddy.

 

I reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. Reaching for a glass I filled it.

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   He’s my father — flesh and blood — and I do love him as deeply as I desire him. If you knew our history you might find yourself angry on my behalf. Our relationship started way earlier than it should have, if at all. It was seduction. That is what it was, a seduction. Who seduced whom, I can’t really tell you. Who was the true aggressor of the relationship? I can’t tell you that either, but I do know that I am no longer a child with the label of innocence being my excuse.

 

Yet, in a lot of ways, it still was innocence. After tightening the lid I put the juice back in the fridge. With as many lines we have crossed, as many boundaries we have repositioned, we have yet to make love. Well, we have never had sexual intercourse. I wasn’t sure we ever would. Sometimes I think that is part of the magic between us, the knowledge that we are so close — so close — that all it would take is a little slip, a slight slide and then it would finally end. He would be inside me and we would finally do the unthinkable. We’d finally step over the edge.

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   But we never do. No matter how much it hurts, and no matter how much we want we still keep the control. We never make the final step.

 

I stopped by the hall desk and looked at the mail left on its top. Credit card bills. Car insurance. The usual. No one writes letters anymore. So what if all my friends live within 5 miles of me? Still, would it hurt to pick up a pen sometime rather than a phone?

 

I entered my room and removed my coat. I flinched in surprise. I’m a little sore from my encounter. I feel the moisture accumulated between my legs, the trapped pussy juice. Stripping, I head for my private bathroom and turn on the shower. Hot. Good for the muscles.

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   I greet my reflection in the mirror. Damn. I’m a mess. It’s a good thing my mother never took her eyes off the coupons in the paper. If she had she would have surely known…. It was so obvious. I had sex all over me.

 

Reaching over, I tested the water. Perfect. Turning toward the door I grabbed the shower cap on the hook on the back and shoved my hair underneath. Oh god. My puss. It has been a while since I’ve been fucked like that. Turning, I lifted my leg to enter the shower and I felt the stickiness glide down my legs. There was more moisture than usual, so I looked down.

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I looked down.

 

“Oh shit!”

 

“What? What is it?” I turned to face him, though I didn’t open my eyes.

 

“Nothing. ”  I heard the snap of the condom as he pulled the rubber off. I opened my eyes just as he flung it somewhere over his shoulder.

 

“Is something wrong?”

 

“Nah. It’s cool. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s nothing. Come here…”

 

He reached out and pulled me close and kissed me — a tender kiss. I was surprised. It was actually…nice.

 

“That was fun… maybe we can do this again. ”

 

There! There on my thigh! Juice — sticky juice, sticky MILKY juice — was trailing down my leg. My juice isn’t milky.

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   My juice is clear! The condom broke. The condom broke and the motherfucker never even told me!

 

Oh my god.

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Oh my god. I need to relax. I need to remain calm. It may not mean anything. It’s too early to tell. It may not mean anything. I climbed into the shower and let the water wash away the evidence of my guilty pleasure. I’m not even on the pill. I know, I know. How could I not be on the pill, a girl my age? I just…never got around to it. My doctor inquired but I never made the appointment. It didn’t seem important. I always use condoms.

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   Always. I never had one break.

 

Let me see. My last period was…one…two…two…weeks ago. Shit. Well. That still may not mean anything. I’m irregular. It’s not an exact science. I’ll not worry until I have to. Instead I think of more pleasing things… I think of…him. My father. My daddy. My…lover?

 

My relationship with my father has always been ‘different,’ for lack of a better term. We have always been extraordinarily close.

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   I’m not going to lie, our relationship has sexual undertones, and I admit it. But I didn’t always admit it, and there was actually a time when I could honestly say I didn’t know it. To be that innocent again. My father is what you might call a breast man. Our relationship was actually the normal type of father daughter relationship, that is until I began to change and that change became directly proportional to the change in our relationship. That change is referred to as puberty.

 

I got my first period around eleven and when I was thirteen I began to develop breasts. My father noticed instantly and made a comment to my mother that I would need a training bra. The very next day mom took me shopping. At that time, his attention was very limited. His behavior was limited to stares and a comment on the fit of a shirt. The looks weren’t perverted or anything. They were often very brief and barely noticeable, at least in the beginning.

 

As time went on, my breasts grew, as did the attention my father paid to them. Subtle stares at first, like I said.

 

   He and I were actually close despite the fact that he worked late, sometimes not coming home until after ten. After coming home, he would come in my room. Around that time I would be finishing up my homework or preparing my clothes and such for the next day. Sometimes he would sit at my desk and we would talk about our days. This was the time he found out what was going on in my life. We rarely had time in the mornings and weekends were rare, too, because of his schedule, but the evening — the evenings were ours.

 

Over the next three years, I was more than a little aware that my father’s obsession with my breasts was not normal. I was also at that age when I became more aware of my body and the power it provided me. It was a time of sexual awareness and awakening. Boys were intriguing, but they were still boys, inexperienced and just as lost as I was, but my father, his stares were different. His stares held knowledge and with that knowledge I found myself wanting…aroused. I began to love his attention, so much so I began to seek it, welcome it, draw it to me and I would do so in my room, during ‘our time. ’ It would be in the clothing, sometimes the lack of. Nothing too elaborate. I wore thin tops, tops that vividly showed the outline of my curves.

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“How was your day, baby girl? Did you do well on that social studies exam?”

 

“I think so. ” I picked up my pink sweater from the bed and placed it on a hanger. Moving to the closet, I found a spot for it and gathered more hangers for the rest of the clothes on the bed.

 

“I mean, I feel like I answered most of the questions correctly. I should get a B at least. ”

 

“That’s good. ” He picked up the giant troll sitting at the corner of my desk. Flashy, I called him. He was your standard ugly troll with fiery red hair that stuck right up into the air like Don King’s famous do. Daddy bought him for me two years ago when I was on a troll fetish like most of the kids in my school. I outgrew the fetish but I still loved Flashy. I often used him to store my bracelets and such around his neck.

 

“You did laundry today, I see. ”

 

“Yes. I should be finished here soon.

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  â€

 

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind. I can be patient. ”

 

I said nothing, but continued placing clothing on hangers. I didn’t know what to say. He rarely admitted that what we did was done simply for his enjoyment.

 

“What ever happened with that boy?”

 

“What boy?”

 

“The one you had a crush on.   What was his name?  Patrick?”

 

“Oh, yeah. I’m so over him. He’s into Charice Summers, anyway. There is actually this new guy and school that I think is kinda cute. ”

 

“New guy?”

 

“Yeah, he transferred here. I think his parents moved from California. His name is Chris. We have math together and he is soooooo smart.

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  â€Â 

 

“Hmmm. ” He set the troll back on the desk and interlaced his fingers as he watched me move — as he watched my breasts. I knew he was looking and I felt my tips tighten. I felt them become hard, and as they tighten, they became very visible. I wore no bra. I never wore a bra in these tops. I know he saw them harden. He knew.

 

“What?”

 

“I don’t think I like the way you move from liking one boy to liking another just like that. ” He snapped his fingers.

 

“Oh, Daddy. Please. Nothing is going to happen. You say that now, but you’ll probably still be upset if I fell for only one boy and didn’t lose interest quickly. Then my feelings would be a bit more real.

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  â€Â  I hung up the last of my clothes. I wore a small, powder blue, spaghetti strap top and panties. The panties were boy shorts; they curved around my hips, molding my body, meeting the end of my top. On occasion as I moved a space would open up between the two fabrics and my belly button would peak out. “But you know that will never happened, right? No one can ever replace you. ” I smiled at him then.

 

“True. I couldn’t stand the idea of my little girl liking some boy and never having time for me. ”

 

“Daddy. ” I moved to where he sat. His thighs spread and the bulge in his pants was more than obvious. He stopped trying to hide it a year ago. I wrapped my arms around his neck. His fingers unlocked and found the slenderness of my waist. He pulled me close and buried his face between my breasts.

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   I have already reached my fullest size, a 36D. We said nothing. I just combed my fingers through his hair as he rubbed his face in the valley between my breasts, inhaling my scent. Then slowly he moved his head back and forth across my breasts, his whole face pressing into my curves. Occasionally his mouth would open and I would feel the heat of his breath through the fabric.

 

I was so wet. My pussy burned with the pain. My heart was beating out of control. I closed my eyes and held on to his head and let him do as he pleased. His lips encircled my nipple, not moving, just resting around the nub enclosed in cotton. I felt the constant pressure of his lips around my nipple, waiting, waiting for his next move. But there was no next move. Instead he rested. He pressed his face into my breast breathing his hot breath on my nipple, making it hard and achy. Sometimes, in moments like these when he was touching me, yet…not, I thought I was on the edge of nutting.

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   I was so close. I was so turned on, waiting, writhing and wanting.

 

I wanted to cry out and beg, ‘please daddy, please suck my nipple, play with it, suck it, suck it daddy, pull my top off and suck them. ’ But I never did say those words.   I never had the courage. I was afraid of what would happen if I did say those words. Instead I stood there with his lips wrapped around my breast, my nipple. He would hold me close, moving to one breast then the other, back and forth until they were overly sensitive from the contact of his face and cotton of my top. Then after a few minutes of doing this he would push me back and stand. This usually meant he would leave now. But before he would go, he would stare into my eyes.

 

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, Daddy. I love you too. ”

 

“You know I could never hurt you, don’t you?”

 

“Yes, Daddy. ”

 

It was always the same.

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   Then he would lean down and kiss me. His mouth would cover mine. It was a closed mouth kiss but his lips engulfed mine completely. My pussy would scream at this point. But I said nothing. And after that quick good night kiss he would leave me.  

 

Other times, it would be different. Sometimes he would come in my room and we would only talk.   Other times, not too long after my monthly flow ended and he would run a series of ‘tests�.