Amy and I were sitting on the couch in front of the TV watching the Saturday night comedy show. As usual I felt a bit uncomfortable with her in such close proximity, especially since her breasts had grown large enough to push firmly against my arm every time she turned toward me, burying her face into my shoulder and laughing hysterically into my neck. The show really wasn’t at all funny, but because Amy seemed to be enjoying it so much, I sat there chuckling from time to time, pretending that I wasn’t completely humorless. In the meantime, I was wondering what it would be like to slip my hands underneath her fuzzy sweater and feel the softness of her breasts in my hands.
Amy was our only child. She’d always done well in school, and had never got into any trouble. She had several friends and was generally very sociable. In many ways she was a perfect example of an eighteen year-old role model. Her looks were great too, although every father would probably say that. She had a beautiful lightly freckled face with light-green eyes, cherry lips and wavy long blonde hair. At 5ft 7 inches, she had the body of an angel, with perfect curves in all the right places.
Not everything in Amy’s life was perfect, however. Ever since Linda – her mother - and I had split up six months previously, my daughter Amy had spent most of the weekends at my place. There wasn’t any need for an official visitation agreement seeing as Amy was legally an adult and therefore she could choose to live anywhere she wanted, with or without her parents’ consent. It was purely Amy’s choice to spend the weekdays with her Mum and the weekends with me. I knew that the main reason Amy initially liked the idea of this living arrangement was because I was more easy-going than her mother. I wouldn’t make a fuss about where she was going, who she was going with, what she was wearing, at what time she would be back and so forth. I fully trusted Amy to manage her own life without parental interference.
In the last month, however, Amy hadn’t been out once, preferring to stay at home on Friday and Saturday evenings with me. When I asked her about her lack of nocturnal activity, she brushed it off as being unimportant, saying that she was bored with partying, especially since she and Jeff had split up. Upon probing her further, it turned out that she didn’t want to bump into him or that “whore Jessica” who had stolen him away. I suggested that she try going to other venues with other friends, but she said she really wasn’t interested. I suspected she was in a bit of a down period, even though she seemed cheerful enough.
“Don’t you like having me here with you?” she asked.
“Of course I do, Baby,” I answered, “It’s just that I also want you to be having fun.”
“I am having fun, Dad,” she responded with a smile, “Aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m having a wonderful time.” I lied, while trying to force a smile back at her.
The problem for me was more than just wanting Amy to have fun. I felt disturbed about my sexual feelings toward her even though I had often indulged in such thoughts, to a point of snatching her worn panties from time to time. I would hold the soiled gusset up to my nose while jerking off, to help me relieve the tension in the comfort of my bedroom. Afterwards I would feel very guilty about my behavior, vowing never to do it again; only to find myself a week later inhaling the same deliciously exciting musky scent on a different pair of panties and shooting my load into a clean cotton tissue.
The comedy show finished, followed by an intro to the next program. I cringed when I heard the topic, and wished that I had switched channels. Amy wanted to watch.
“Family Matters is up next,” said the announcer, “What happens when the passion between a parent and child goes beyond the accepted norm? Why do some siblings lust for each other? We follow four real-life cases of incest, questioning the causes and exploring the morality of this alternative lifestyle.”
“Oh cool!” said Amy, snuggling up next to me.
“I don’t know. I’m not really all that interested in seeing this.” I responded, hoping I wasn’t too red in the face.
In reality I was very interested, but not with Amy sitting right next to me. I wished I had known the program was going to be on, in which case I could have foreseen recording it and avoided watching it with her. I wanted to know if it could help me know more about myself, or at least to give me some answers about what I was feeling toward Amy.
“Aw, come on Dad, it might be fun,” Amy insisted, snorting with laughter, “It could be a laugh watching those trailer-park types and their inbred ways.”
I reluctantly agreed to watch the program, thinking about my own predicament. “If only Amy knew how I thought about her, she might not be so eager to see a program about it,” I thought to myself.
As it turned out, there were no “trailer-park types” amongst the couples that were exposed. Instead, they all came from average homes, except for a mother and her son who were from a wealthy family in New York.
The basic premise of the documentary was to spark debate about whether consenting adults should be allowed to engage in incestuous relationships, so long as they did not produce offspring. There was a mother and son, a father and daughter, a sister and brother, and a sister and half-brother. In all cases they either had been or were still sexually active within their couple, although they were not all living together as a couple. In some cases the relationship was sporadic; with one or both members of the couple having a spouse. For example, the son whose mother lived in New York had a wife, but would regularly travel to New York and sleep with his mother.
At one point, the father who was having sexual relations with his daughter explained that he had been having strong feelings for her for quite some time. When he said that he had been regularly masturbating at the thought of having sex with her since she was 16, I almost had a heart attack. My heart was pounding like crazy and I felt too hot. Amy looked up at me for a second and then rested her head back against my shoulder to continue watching the show.
The incestuous father went on to explain how one day he felt compelled to tell his daughter about his feelings, knowing that it might cause a massive rift between them, and how lucky he was that instead of fleeing from him, she opened up to him, saying that she had similar feelings for him. Since then, they had been living together like wanton lovers, engaging in sex as many as six times a days for the past several months.
The documentary was well presented on the whole, although it left me with more questions than answers, and feeling even more confused about my relationship with Amy than beforehand.
“Wow, that was really weird!” Amy declared when the show was over, switching off the TV.
“Yes, it was indeed.” I replied, relieved that it was finished and was about to get up to fetch a drink.
“What do you think about it?” Amy asked, interrupting me.
“It was weird, like you said.” I responded, hoping that my answer was enough to finish the conversation.
“I mean, about incest in general?” Amy continued, “Do you think it happens a lot?”
“I don’t know.” I replied.
“Me neither,” said Amy, “But, I bet it happens a lot more than we know about. I mean, like that guy who came out to his daughter. It must take a hell of a lot of courage to say what you really feel in that situation. Imagine if she completely rejected him? He might never have seen his daughter again.”
I swallowed hard for a second and turned round to look directly at her. I wanted to tell her how much I lusted for her, and how much I cared for her at the same time. I felt like I needed to tell her that even though I felt sexually attracted to her, I would never dream of compromising our strictly father-daughter relationship.
“Have you ever thought about me sexually?” Amy went on, looking me straight in the eyes.
I flinched for a second, not expecting such an outright question. I had to think on the spot.
“Well, I think it’s quite normal for fathers to see their daughters growing up to be women.” I started waffling. I had no idea where I was going with that answer, but luckily, before I could make a complete mess of things, Amy helped me out.
“It’s OK if you have Dad, because I’ve had some sexual thoughts about you too.”
“Really? Like what?” I asked, surprised at her openness and surprised at myself for continuing the conversation.
“Just the usual girl stuff, I suppose. I mean like, sometimes I dream that we’re showering together or just lying together on the bed wearing nothing but our bathrobes, enjoying the morning sun. It turns me on.”
I was speechless for a couple of minutes as we both sat there looking confused, glancing at each other and then looking away. Amy had just told me what I wanted to tell her, and yet I didn’t know how to handle it. I wondered what would have happened if I had spoken to her more directly, or sooner. Then the thought crossed my mind that she might have somehow been influenced by the program we had just watched.
“You’re not just saying this because of the program, are you?” I asked.
“Don’t be silly, Dad,” Amy responded, “I’ve wanted to tell you for ages.”
She leaned in toward me and we kissed each other full on the lips. I held her tightly in my arms as we embraced each other like long-lost lovers. The smell of her skin was fresh and youthful, her delicate perfume filling my nostrils with desire.
I slid my hands under her sweater while still kissing her, and released her bra strap, then reached up under the front to feel the fullness of her soft breasts resting in my hands. She reached down and pulled her sweater and bra over the top of her head, her titties bouncing gently as they were released. She then pushed her chest forward in anticipation of me playing with them.
I swirled my tongue over each nipple in turn, flicking them until they became hard, then I ran my face between her breasts and down her tight little stomach, kissing her soft skin along the way, while she moaned gently.
I unbuttoned the top of her jeans and then undid the fly, pulled down the top of her panties and then kissed the top of her delicate shaved mound. I couldn’t reach her pussy because her jeans were too tight. I looked up at her and smiled, at which point she immediately stood up and stripped off her jeans.
“You get undressed too!” she whispered, twisting open my shirt buttons one by one.
I quickly undid my pants and pulled them off. After another brief kiss and a hug, Amy knelt down and yanked down my underpants, grabbed my throbbing cock with both hands and rubbed my shaft up and down a few times before swallowing it deep inside her mouth. As she did so, she looked up at me, her light-green eyes beaming wildly. She rocked back and forth on her knees, her beautiful red lips sliding over my rod, her mouth filled with my swollen manhood. I ran my hands through her lovely golden hair while she slurped at me, until I could hardly hold out any longer.
I took her by the arms and lifted her to her feet, and then gently sat her down on the couch. After pulling down her panties, I leaned her further backwards, and lifted her thighs over my shoulders while I buried my face into her dripping pink shaven pussy.
My tongue couldn’t get enough of her juicy little lips and her tiny bud of a clitoris. I lapped and lapped, kissing and licking her until she started screaming for more.
“Lick me, Daddy!” she wailed, “I’m going to come!”
“Oh yeah, Daddy! Keep licking me! I want your tongue all over my pussy!”
“Yes! Yes! Fuck yeah! Suck your daughter’s clitty, Daddy. Then I want you to fuck me!”
I wasn’t sure if it was my licking or her own dirty talk that did the job, but within a few more seconds she started bucking wildly, went limp for a few more seconds, and then suddenly squirted a jet of pussy juices all over my face while screaming unintelligibly and waving her legs over my shoulders.
“Come on top of me and fuck me!” she begged.
I didn’t need to be told. I quickly turned her sideways on the couch to make her more comfortable, straddled on top of her, and pushed the tip of my penis between her pussy lips. She pulled me toward her, wincing at one point as I entered her, but then relaxing as we slowly built up rhythm. I watched her beautiful face while we enjoyed the feel of each other’s sex. I couldn’t believe that only a couple of hours beforehand, I would never have known that this could ever happen between us, and yet here we were, fucking together in harmony.
Within moments, I was pumping hard, feeling the head of my cock sliding over her pussy walls as she lay there staring at me with glazed eyes. She started to tense up, and the thought of her squirting again set me off. My balls pulsated a few times before releasing what seemed like a bucketful of sticky white cum deep inside Amy; in several long spurts. Amy writhed about with the feeling of my seed filling her, her love juices trickling from the sides of her pussy and over my balls while she came at the same time.
Once our love-making session was over, I had a pang of guilt for a few seconds, until Amy told me matter-of-factly that we should take a shower after such “heavy activity” as she called it. We went and bathed together for the first time, during which I made sure that I fully enjoyed the touch of her youthful body, soaping her down and making her cum once again.
As we lay on the bed together after the shower, Amy turned to me, smiled and said cheekily “Nothing wrong with a bit of incest is there?”
“Nope, and we’re not even in a trailer-park.” I replied sarcastically.
“I knew that, duh!” Amy laughed, “It wasn’t even live TV.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I flipped it over to a recording, right after the comedy show.” Amy giggled, “It’s a good thing you didn’t notice!”
We fell about on the bed in a mock fight, and then curled up together for a snooze. Life was good.
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