Incest/Taboo Emmy and Her Daddy

Stepping out of the shower I smelled coffee brewing. I dried myself off, put on my robe, joined Emmy in the kitchen.

"What's on the agenda?"

"Well, first yoga, then I figure we're in Miami, we should hit the beach. Tonight's a surprise. Did you remember to bring your navy blue suit. You look so handsome in it."

I smiled. I'd remembered. "Yes Emmy."
​

* * * *​

Emmy did yoga; I worked out on an exercise bike. On our return to the hotel Emmy disappeared into her room, emerging in a short yellow dress. She took it off on the beach; underneath was a relatively modest one-piece swimsuit, the bottom black, the top alternating horizontal black and white stripes. It covered her butt and only hinted at her cleavage. And while skin tight, compared to the ubiquitous micro-bikinis around us it was nigh-Victorian.

"Whatta ya think?'

"You look great honey."

Gesturing to several near-by women wearing only tiny triangles of fabric, she said, "Would you prefer something like that?"

"No honey, then we'd be fighting off the boys."

She laughed. "That's exactly right Daddy. The only man for me is you."

We found a place to lie down. Emmy applied sun block to herself, I did her back. After I smeared it on my legs, arms, face, and chest, Emmy said, "Lay down Daddy. I'll do the rest."

I followed instructions; Emmy knelt next to me. She squirted the oil onto my back and worked it in. Emmy's slender fingers were strong; I issued a low-key moan, letting her know how good it felt. I relaxed, enjoying what had morphed into a massage. She took her time, rubbing the liquid into my shoulders and neck, then along the sides of my body.

She next turned to my legs, starting at my feet. I laughed when she reached the back of my knees; I was ticklish there. After a final twirl of her fingers, Emmy changed position and straddled my leg. She worked the oil into the back of my thighs, cupped her hands over then, fingers on each side, and pushed forward, forcing the liquid into my skin. It felt heavenly, but she was drawing close to my crotch. I thought about saying something, but how not to sound like a pervert when telling your teenage daughter she's getting to close to Daddy's privates?

Emmy pushed up one more time; her fingers reached my butt. I was about to caution her when she said, "Daddy, you've got great legs. I can feel all your muscles. Don't move, one last place."

She applied lotion to two fingertips and ran them along the edge of my butt, then lay next to me.

"Thank you sweetie."

"You're welcome Daddy."

Emmy snaked her hand into mine and rested a foot against my ankle. I closed my eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun.

I was not sure how long it'd been – I was drifting in and out of consciousness – when Emmy said, "Daddy, would you kiss me?"

I rolled up on my elbow, said, "Sure honey," and pecked her on the cheek. Then I saw the look on her face. Something was wrong.

"What is it honey?"

"Don't look Daddy, but a bunch of guys a couple of blankets over have been staring at me, talking about me."

"Do you want me to say something to them?"

"No Daddy, but I need you to kiss me, like we're together, like I'm your girlfriend. They'll get the message."

She didn't wait for a response, but puckered her lips and ran a hand through my hair. Saying no didn't seem an option. I lowered my face and her lips molded themselves to mine, dragging over the surface of my mouth. I felt an instant jolt, an unexpected arousal. She kissed me again, the pressure of her lips stronger. She turned my head, brought her mouth to my ear, whispered, "Thanks Daddy."

I rolled onto my back and, eyes obscured by my sunglasses, I glanced at a pack of guys, a few years older than Emmy, staring at us. They said a few things, all meant to be overhead: "The old dude must have money," "Check out gramps," "She needs some real lovin'." They packed up and wandered off.

Emmy, who had taken my hand in hers, rolled onto her elbow and kissed me, this time a peck on the lips.

"We must be naturals."

We lay together, but the mood had been broken, Emmy was antsy.

"Daddy, let's take a walk, but pretend you're my boyfriend. It will cut down on the leering, it will keep guys from hitting on me."

Well, it'd worked once. I stood and helped her up. We started up the beach, holding hands.

Our experience mimicked the day before; everyone noticed Emmy, she made friends everywhere. We got involved in a volleyball game, danced with a informal gathering of reggae musicians, and shared a meal with two families barbequing on the sand. Emmy treated me like her boyfriend: held my hand, leaned her body into mine, kissed my cheek. Wherever we went we were treated like a couple. I found I liked basking in the light of my entrancing daughter.

As we headed back to the hotel I said, "I can't believe we pulled it off. Everybody thought I was your boyfriend." The excitement in my voice caught me by surprise,

"Yes, wasn't it fun. You were quite the hit. The girls kept asking me how to snare such a hunky guy. I can get you some dates with some hot young chicks."

I laughed. "I doubt if, but you're all the hot young chicks, make that gorgeous young woman, I'm interested in."

There was a serious undertone in her voice when she replied. "Do you mean that, do you think I'm a gorgeous woman?"

I took both her hands in mine. "Yes, I do. But, you're even more beautiful on the inside."
​

* * * *​

At the hotel, per instructions, I put on my blue suit. Then I waited.

Emmy appeared an hour later wearing a backless strapless black gown. It was snug across her chest and displayed a hint of cleavage. She saw the appreciation in my eyes and id a pirouette. My gaze was drawn to her behind; the dress molded itself to her backside before gracefully flowing to the floor. Her hair was down; she carried a small black purse and a black jacket. Her only jewelry, besides small diamond earrings, was the necklace I'd given her the night before. There was a wide smile on her face; she was radiant, pure class.

I looked at her, seeing something new. Something had happened in Miami. I was seeing Emmy in a way I wouldn't have imagined a week ago, unabashedly appreciating the sexy young woman my daughter had become.

"Well Daddy?"

"Emmy, you're spectacular. Wherever we're going, I'll be the envy of every man there."

She walked towards me, her stride slow and sexy. "That's the way I want it."

She leaned forward – with her black heels she was only an inch or two shorter than I – and kissed my lips. The kiss took longer, was harder, than I expected. I dismissed it; it was a special occasion. Wherever we were going, I'd be with the sexiest woman in the place.

I called downstairs for a town car and slipped Emmy's jacket on her. The front was open, accenting her breasts; it was long in the back, hanging past her rump. I took her arm in mine. Eyes followed us as we crossed the hotel lobby. The car was waiting; Emmy provided an address.

Fifteen minutes later we arrived at the harbor and boarded a yacht for a dinner cruise. Not exactly the kind of hep place I'd have expected my eighteen year old daughter to choose for her birthday; it was more an old man's speed. I took off her jacket and held her chair for her, handing the jacket to our waiter. I ordered wine, then dinner. For the moment Emmy eschewed dessert; she asked me to walk with her on the deck. I nodded to the waiter; he returned with her jacket. He pulled out her chair; I slipped the jacket on her.

It was cold. The few other couples on the deck soon retreated inside. Emmy stood on the guard rail, looking back at the city. I stood behind her.

"Daddy, I'm chilly."

"Do you want to go back inside?"

"No Daddy, I like it here, just the two of us. Hold me."

I wrapped my arms around her. She dropped her head back onto my shoulder.

"Daddy I love your strong body."

I thought about some of the guys she'd dated, far stronger than I. But why dispute a compliment?

"I love holding you pumpkin. This has been a wonderful trip. I should be taking care of you on your birthday, but you've been taking care of me."

She rotated in my arms, faced me, brought a fingertip to my face, ran it along the length of my mouth, played with my lips.

"Daddy, don't be silly. You've taken care of me all my life, I'll never be able to thank you enough. I love taking care of you; I'd like to do it forever."

I took her hands in mine, brought them to my lips, kissed them.

"Now you're being silly. You can't take care of me forever. Someday there will be a young man for you to take care of, who will take care of you."

Music from inside the ballroom, slow and sweet, flowed down the deck. "No Daddy, no one can ever replace you. Dance with me?"

I started back to the ballroom, but Emmy stood still. "No Daddy, out here, just you and me."

And so my daughter and I held each other, dancing on the deck of a yacht, alone.

When the band broke we headed back to the ball room. I took off her jacket, slid it over my chair. We ordered dessert, splitting a fudge brownie capped with ice cream.

When done Emmy went to the ladies room, refreshed her lipstick. The band came back on. We danced the rest of the night. Emmy had always been a wonderful dancer. Even as a child music would inhabit her body. But as we danced together that night, I saw something else. Emmy moved with undeniable sensuality. It had probably long been this way, but I had not seen it. I enjoyed watching her and, something rare in my rigidly controlled world, found myself in the moment. I simply held my daughter, enjoying her perfect form, not worrying about what people might think.

The boat docked. Other couples praised us, complementing us on how we danced together. Emmy deflected the credit to me. Everyone assumed we were a couple and I saw no reason to correct them. Imagine, an old man like me with such a beautiful young woman.

We left holding hands, took a cab back to the hotel, made our way to our suite. I took off my jacket, then Emmy's, and sat on the couch. Emmy, holding two glasses of wine, sat next to me, took off her shoes, reached behind herself, slid the dress' zipper down a few inches, shifted her shoulders, loosening the garment, displaying her cleavage. I reached for my tie.

"No Daddy, let me."

Emmy, her face inches from mine, deftly loosened, then undid, the knot of my tie. She laid the ends on my chest, unbuttoned my shirt, pushed her hand inside, thrumming her fingers on my skin.

"I love your chest Daddy, strong and fuzzy."

"I thought hair on men was out."

"Maybe on boys, but not on men."

Her hand resting on my chest, she leaned against me. I placed my arm over her shoulder, looked down. Her nipples, deep brown and surrounded by large distended areolas, were clearly visible. I looked up, noted Emmy's foot resting on the edge of the coffee table. Her dress had bundled at her hips. My daughter had magnificent legs.

We sat awhile, sipped our wine, enjoyed the weight and warmth of each other's bodies. Then Emmy spoke.

"Daddy, these last few days, they've been the best and happiest of my life."

I thought to pooh-pooh her statement, but I couldn't recall a better time. It was the best vacation of my life, although, on second thought, it really hadn't been a vacation. It had been a date; sans the sex, it's what I would've done with a girlfriend, not family.

The thought made be uncomfortable. If I was imagining I was dating my daughter, maybe I better start dating more. Had I had let the boundaries with Emmy slip? No, I reassured myself, I was overreacting. My daughter was a woman, trips to Disneyworld were no longer appropriate.

Emmy sensed my agitation. She kissed my cheek, ran her hands through my hair. "Why don't you take the first shower Daddy."

"It's getting late Emmy, I thought I might wait til morning."

Emmy sat up, holding the hem of her dress, which had almost completely fallen from her breasts, to her chest. "Boys are so gross. You take yours, then I'll take mine. Could you stay up Daddy? I'd like it if you did my hair."

I stood and Emmy, tugging her dress over her breasts with one hand, took my hand with the other, stood, kissed my cheek, and said in a low voice, "Don't use up all the hot water."

I hung up my clothes, grabbed my pyjamas, headed for the shower. I considered jerking off, but recalling my daughter's admonition about a quick shower, refrained. I knocked on Emmy's door on my way back to my room, letting her know I was done. I heard her turn the shower on. I knew I shouldn't, but I imagined her soapy hands running over her body, water dripping down her exquisite form. Was she masturbating?

I had surrendered; thoughts of my daughter were turning me on. I definitely needed to start dating again. Images of Emmy were flashing through my mind – I couldn't push them out – when she knocked on the door and, wrapped in a short thick towel and carrying a hair dryer and brush, she entered my room.

This had become a regular feature at our home. Emmy would take a shower, I'd dry her hair. They were nice intimate moments. She sat on the edge of the bed and plugged in the blow dryer. Eyes closed, she let me do her hair, enjoying my hands running through her hair. When done I lay the blow dryer and brush on the table beside the bed; Emmy checked her hair, nodded her approval. She got up, turned off the light, opened the blinds, letting the city's ambient light seep into the room, and cuddled next to me, slipping her hand under my pyjama tops, nestling her fingers in my chest hair. Her body was warm; she smelled fresh and clean.

"Daddy, there's no place I'd rather be than here with you, right now."

"Thank you Emmy. I love my sweet daughter."

"And I love my handsome Daddy."

Snuggled next to me, I was acutely aware that my daughter's perfect form was wrapped only in a towel. I knew I should send her back to her room, but I liked her just where she was. I was grateful for the blanket pulled over me, which hid my penis, half-filled with blood. Then Emmy said, "Daddy, do you remember when I told you that the night I turned eighteen I was going to ask for a special present."

"Yes Emmy."

"I want you to make love to me."

I've run that moment through my mind a thousand times, trying to piece together how I felt. I suspect I've re-remembered it so many times there is little original memory left. I was deeply aroused. In the past several days my relationship with Emmy had transformed. In Miami we had acted as beaus, not father and daughter. My daughter had presented herself as a very adult, very sexual creature and I, by my behavior, had accepted this version of her. I'd let the boundaries dissolve. I had, much of it at her instigation, sexualized my daughter.

And I wanted her. I couldn't remember ever wanting anything more.

But I tried. I really did try.

"Emmy, I'm your father."

"I know Daddy, I know I'm not supposed to want this. I've tried to get you out of my head, I really have. I date guys, nice guys, guys other girls rave about. I kiss them, let them kiss me. But it's no good, you're the one I want."

She brought her lips to mine, kissed me. I didn't kiss back, but offered no resistance. Instead my mind was racing, my libido threatening to run out of control. I struggled, trying to tamp down my feelings, to put together a coherent response, all while trying to get inside Emmy's head, to understand her point of view. I couldn't accuse her of doing or feeling anything wrong; I needed to say no gently.

I ran my hands through her hair and carefully moved her head away. I looked into her eyes. There was fear there? Fear I'd say no. Her question, would I be her lover, was not the impulsive act of a child, it was a woman's long contemplated wish. She had placed her heart in my hands.

The right words would not come to me.

"Daddy, do you want me?'

Flummoxed by the unexpected directness of her question, I was unable to confect a lie. "Yes Emmy."

"Can we? Tonight?"

I said nothing. She leaned forward and kissed me. I didn't kiss her back, but I accepted her mouth on mine. She ended the kiss, sat up on her knees, undid the towel, let it fall to the bed. Her face was flush, her sensual brown eyes focused. Her full round breasts, their size emphasized by her slender build, sat high on her chest. She was physical perfection.

"What do you think Daddy? Did I grow up well?"

"Emmy, you're beautiful."

"Thank you Daddy. I've wanted you as long as I remember. I need to know."

She kissed me again and when the tip of her tongue tickled my lips I let them part, let her probe the inside of my mouth. Her tongue slipped behind my lips, tripped across my teeth, visited my cheeks, the roof of my mouth. And then, when it teased my tongue, I teased back.

Emmy felt me respond. She ran her fingers up my chest, unbuttoned my pyjama shirt, licked, then nibbled on, my nipples. I groaned, acknowledging my arousal.

Emmy smiled, lay on top of me, used her feet to push the blanket and sheet down to my calves. My erection was pressed to her torso.

"Daddy, when I was a little girl I thought I had the smartest nicest sweetest best Daddy of all. When I got a little older I realized I had the handsomest sexiest Daddy. Then I got older and I knew my Daddy was the man I wanted, the one to make me a woman. I know I'm not supposed to want you, but whoever made that rule didn't have a Daddy like you. I've tried wanting other men, I really have, but I don't. And I'll never be able to until I know you."

She rolled off me, slipped her hand inside my pyjamas, grasped my penis, brought her lips to mine. I groaned into her mouth; our tongues played together, touched, licked, twisted. My hand went to the back of her head, holding her face to mine. I sucked on her tongue, then played with her upper lip, trapped it with my teeth, pulled it into my mouth.

I ended the kiss, took my daughter's chin in my hand, turned her head to face mine. Our eyes locked together. I struggled to catch my breath, the depth of my arousal unmistakable.

And then I abdicated responsibility. "Emmy, are you sure?"

"Yes Daddy, I'm sure." The tone of her voice, the look on her face, confirmed her words; she was certain. This was something long considered, something she'd looked at with her heart, her body, her mind, something she'd ruminated over from every angle, something, as she'd said, she needed to do. And in all that, I found reassurance. Or maybe I give myself too much credit. I wanted my daughter. Maybe I grabbed the first decent excuse that came along.

"You're on birth control?"

"Yes Daddy."

I smiled and kissed my daughter's sweet full lips. Emmy pulled on my pyjamas bottoms, but my erection got caught in the waist band. Emmy reached inside, pressed my dick to my body, pulled my pyjamas over it. She looked at my penis, stiff and brown and hard.

"My god Daddy, it's beautiful."

Bouncing up, she straddled my legs, took hold of my dick, looked at it with a wide happy grin, fisted it. Whenever a drop of pre-cum appeared she worked it nto the head and surrounding skin with her thumb. She was focused, intent, cataloging my reaction, listening to my breaths and gasps. Using my legs, I pushed my pyjama bottoms to my ankles, then off one leg. Emmy lowered her pussy, it was wholly devoid of pubic hair, to my leg. Her cunt lips splayed open, her vagina flush to my shin, she rocked her sex on me in short hard motions, sliding easily; easily; she was soaking wet. She closed her eyes and teased her clit with a fingertip, lost in the sensations, breathing in a deep steady rhythm. Her breasts swelled, her nipples taut and hard. She was lost in a haze of pleasure. I lay there, staring as the most beautiful woman in the world.

After several minutes she arched her back and opened her eyes. She was having trouble focusing. She stared at my lips, then my eyes. Her mouth was ajar. She leaned forward, her breasts settled on my chest, she kissed me

"Daddy, it's time."

"Are you sure Emmy?"

"Oh yes Daddy, very sure."

She raised herself, took hold of my penis, and worked it up, down, and across her hairless slit. Finally she placed the head to her vagina and squirmed, getting used to the feeling, saying, as if to herself, "It's so big. So big. I can feel it on my cherry."

I don't know why I had not, til that moment, grasped that my daughter was a virgin. She'd insisted she was, but I'd concluded that a woman this popular, this beautiful, must have had sex. My first thought was to end this; I should not be the one to despoil my daughter. That thought was displaced by two others, one compassionate, one primal. How much they were genuine, how much rationalization, I'm not sure. The compassionate impulse: this was what my daughter wanted. To come this far and say no, to express doubt, would shame her. I'd sort out the consequences tomorrow, but tonight I was committed, I would make love to my daughter.

"It hurts Daddy. It burns."

As to the primal part: I looked at my daughter and felt a surging need to possess her. I wanted to be the first inside her, I wanted to claim what was mine. She'd been the center of my life for eighteen years. I'd raised her; sacrificed for her; loved her; I'd make her a woman. I wanted her virginity. She meant more to me than anything else in the world to me. I was the one to desecrate her perfect body, to forever mark her as mine.

For the moment compassion won. I took a deep breath, eased back, leaving only the tip of my cock in the soft wet mouth of her pussy.

"Take your time honey, go at your own pace."

Emmy rolled her hips against my cock, lowered herself, pushing her hymen against my dick. She winced, pain and determination on her face.

She raised herself, then lowered her body. Her cherry strained, the taut frail flesh bowing under the slow relentless pressure of my manhood. Emmy gritted her teeth, bracing for a spearing hot stab of pain. She was breathing heavily, pushing down.

"Daddy, it's starting to give way."

And then it tore. Emmy arched her back; pain fired through her body. I reached for her hips, held her up. Emmy placed her hands on mine and, taking deep long breaths, remained motionless. Gradually, her jaw, which had locked into place, relaxed and she carefully lowered herself, absorbing the rest of me into her body. Her motions were small, incremental, down an inch, up slightly, back down. When I was all the way inside her she closed her eyes, letting her vagina adjust. I reached up, ran a hand across her face, stopping at her lips. She kissed my fingers.

"I love you Emmy."

"I love you too Daddy. You're so big, but I like it, I like having you inside me."

I put my hands on her knees. She sighed; her belly trembled. After several minutes she began to rock back and forth. Her eyes were closed; she was focused on her groin, cataloging every sensation, the painful, the pleasurable. She wanted this moment engraved in her memory. Her breathing, which had spiked when I entered her, evened out. The tension in her arms and legs, which had gone taut when her cherry broke, receded. She placed a hand on my stomach and opened her eyes, looking into my face.

"Daddy, you feel good inside me, it's better than I imagined. I'm ready now Daddy, its time, time to fuck your baby girl."

At first we ground our groins against each other, our movements deliberate and careful. Emmy moaned; heat was spreading through her body. After several minutes Emmy, for the first time, raised herself, just an inch, and slid back down my dick.

She cooed, "Oh Daddy, this is not bad, not bad at all."

Slowly, inexplorably, we increased the length of our fuck strokes, moving more and more of my dick within her. Each stroke was long and slow, each one savored and enjoyed. My virginal daughter was wet and unbelievably tight; the snug sheath of cunt flesh massaged my dick. She worked her cunt muscles; squeezing, then relaxing her vagina. Emmy's breathing picked up and she bent forward, grinned. Her soft hair fell over my face; her breasts dragged across my chest; she moaned, kissed my lips, moved further forward. I kissed, then took a dark brown nipple into my mouth. Emmy twisted her body, offering me her other breast. I wrapped my lips around the areola. Emmy's pussy clamped down on my cock. I lashed the nipple with my tongue; her fuck-tunnel quivered. She dropped down, lay on top of me, her heavy slippery breasts sliding against my chest. I rolled my hips, mauling her clitoris with my pubic bone. She shivered, rasped, gulped down air. I grabbed her ass, forced her hips against mine, increasing the pressure on her clit.

Her lips parted; the tip of our tongues met. She sucked on my tongue; her tight virginal cunt massaged my penis. She sat back up, perched atop my body. I rotated my hips, moved my cock in circles within her. Emmy placed her hands on her thighs and matched her movements to mine.

I took hold of my daughter's breasts, kneading those extraordinary mounds. Emmy moaned. I roughly thumbed the swollen nipples. Her body spasmed and jerked. Her head tilted forward, her eyes smoldering with lewd desire.

"Daddy, this is what I've dreamed of for so long. It feels so good, so good to have you inside me. Daddy! You're doing it to me! Making me a woman! Making your baby girl a woman!"

I milked and squeezed her big tits, whirling my fingers on her nipples. Her back arched, her sweet young body straining in delight and anticipation. The quaking spasms in her pussy grew stronger, the pain of her violated cherry forgotten. She was writhing, welcoming each thrust.

"Fuck me! Oooh god Daddy, hammer your cock in me. It feels so good. I must have more. I want it all! I want everything, everything Daddy's dick can give me."

I loved it, loved the feeling of fully possessing my daughter.

"You like it, you like your father's cock?"

"Oh yes Daddy, I love it, I want it, I want it so bad. I love it, I love the way it hurt me, I love the way it fills me, I loved giving you my cherry, loved the exquisite delicious torture of you breaking my cherry! I never want to stop."

Emmy reached behind, cupped my balls. Her fingers were deft and the pleasure soared, racing towards an explosive intensity. I wouldn't last much longer. I clawed her breasts, pulled on the nipples. Emmy closed her eyes; her mouth was ajar, spit bubbled on her lips. She grabbed my hands, locking her fingers in mine, trapping my hands against her breasts.

"Oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, Oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy, oh Daddy."

She let go of my hands, her arms flailed, and Emmy came, frenzied joy burst from her in an unworldly scream. Her pussy clenched, then rippled down the length of my cock. My balls retracted; I rapid-fired cum into her like liquid lightning bolts.

"I can feel it Daddy! Your cum. It's hot thick wonderful!"

Emmy fell forward. Heaving in air, her breasts pulsating on my chest, she savored the pleasure of her orgasm. Her eyes were closed. I put my arms around her, holding her to me. I kissed the side of her head. She was beautiful.

She opened her eyes, sighed, licked her lips. "Oh Daddy, you took my virginity. It was even better than I'd imagined. I love having your cum in me."

And, remarkably, despite my orgasm, I was still hard. It had been years since I'd come and stayed hard. I reached for her head, pulled her to me, kissed her.

"There's more Emmy. Lots more. I'm gonna fuck your sweet cunt full of it."

"That's what I want Daddy. More of you, more of your sweet cream, more of your cock. Pour it into me, Daddy, it feels so good. Now that you've come inside me it's not so tight. It makes your cock feel even better inside me. Don't stop Daddy, don't ever stop fucking me, making love to me."

I rolled her onto her back; we resumed fucking. We were no longer gentle; we were animals in heat, febrile in our need for each other, any lingering inhibitions had been drowned when I filled her with my seed. What remained was savage, far too long sublimated, need. Nothing mattered, not law or morality or ethics or traditions, but our craving for each other. I slammed into her; rutting, she pushed her hips into me. We were desperate horny animals, longing to merge our bodies, to surrender to our forbidden incestuous hunger.

My daughter growled, "Uhhhh....", craving the itching obscene force of another sweet climax pulsing through her like hot tingles of electricity. The part of me that wanted to possess my daughter, to claim her as my own, eclipsed everything else. I was pounding her, tearing into her virginal flesh. Emmy was as much a slave to her desire as I. Lust was boiling in her, her clit throbbed. She moaned and, staring heavy-lidded at me, said in a voice craven with need, "Harder Daddy, fuck me harder, make me yours."

Emmy's eyes glazed over. Spit dribbled from the corners of her mouth. She shivered; her pussy and tits ached with need. Her temples throbbed. Her nipples, pressed against my chest, swelled and ballooned, her belly knotted, her clit felt like it might explode. Pussy oil bubbled down her thighs. She drove her cunt onto my prick. She locked her legs around my waist; she dug her nails into my back.

Then she came. She said it was like a fist had plunged into her stomach. Her belly and bowels grew so tight she thought she might pee. She growled, peered at me though slitted eyes, and kept going, increasing the speed and strength of her thrusts onto my cock.

She came again, struck by a force that bordered on violent, that made it difficult to breathe. Her bones rattled; her mind filled with blinding shimmering lights. Emmy writhed; her clit threatened to explode; her tits felt like they might rip apart.

I was aroused beyond understanding and control, taking my daughter like an animal, stabbing her pussy with my prick, threatening to tear her apart with a fuck that approached brutal.

And still she urged me on, "Ohhhhhh, so good, Daddy. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

I forced my cock deeper and deeper into her.

"Sweet fuckin' sexy bitch."

"Oh Daddy, yes Daddy, come inside me, give me your cum."

Then we were both there, propelled over the same edge, cresting together on the same mighty wave. I shoved into her, stiffened, exploded. Emmy came with me; the two of us yelped thrashed groaned. Finally I collapsed onto my daughter's body. She whispered, "Ohhhhhh Daddy, so good, so good."

I pulled my dripping cock from her trembling cunt, took my daughter's naked form in my arms, looked at her face, serene with joy. She was sweaty, exhausted, descending into a deep contented sleep. She still managed to say, "Best birthday ever."​