Mark Carver: Family with the hots

There was no substitute for what he really wanted. Glancing at his daughter's lusciously tits, straining at her snug T-shirt, and then running his eyes down over her jeans, over her luscious curved ass, Mark knew he'd go crazy if he held off any longer.

Julie was a hot little piece, mad about him, but she still wasn't his own luscious daughter. And nothing else but this angel would satisfy him. Hell, as long as he was taking risks, he might as well go all the way.

"Marsha," he began sitting down on the sofa beside her and putting a fatherly arm around her shoulders, "I've heard some bad things about you. Terrible things."

The adolescent's face turned chalk-white. "What things, Dad? I haven't done anything wrong, I swear it!"

Her firm little tits rose and fell nervously, and Mark felt an irresistible tingle in his cock and balls. Ever since he'd spanked her months before, feeling her silky hot ass quiver violently beneath his fingers, he knew he had to explore every inch of that satiny young body.

"I heard," he said in a solemn voice, "that you were promiscuous. That you were giving yourself sexually to a great many boys at school."

Tears stung the girl's eyes. "That's a lie!" she said heatedly. "Oh, Dad, that's not true! I swear, I've never – I've never even had a boy. Honest!"

And her father suddenly knew it was true. The lie had simply been to find out if she was still a cherry. And now that he knew, his massive prick began to rise in his pants with furious power. It wasn't just that Marsha was his own lovely daughter that fired his overpowering lust. She was the living embodiment of his own wife, Sheila, when she was fifteen. Irresistibly sexy and cute, with the lush promise of being a ripe-breasted, long-legged, stunning beauty when she grew up.

And Mark Jensen damn well wanted his daughter's cherry before any clumsy boy got it.

"Then you're still a virgin?" he said softly.

"Yes, of course, Dad. I wouldn't lie to you."

"Sit on my lap, honey," he said in a hoarse voice. "It's time we had a father-to-daughter talk. Something serious."

Unhesitatingly, Marsha snuggled herself on her father's lap. He wasn't always this affectionate, but when the opportunity came, Marsha always grabbed it.

Mark wrapped his arms around her waist. His huge prick pounded so fiercely in his pants he knew she had to feel it, although she gave no sign. But, he remembered, she was still a cherry. For about another ten minutes, if he could help it.

He began by rubbing her belly gently, reaching beneath her T-shirt, his rod leaping at the fed of soft young flesh. No matter what the penalty might be, he had to suck and fuck every tawny inch of this luscious girl's flesh. It was an obsession that had haunted him for years.

"The thing about having sex is this," he whispered in her ear, inching his fingers closer to a hot tit. "Some boy could get you in real trouble, Marsha, possibly get you pregnant. Or hurt you in some other way. Because boys are inexperienced, you see, baby?"

"I'll be careful, honest, Dad. I know about things like that. Mom told me."

"There's a safe way to do every thing in this world," he told her, his voice beginning to crack with obscene desire. The feel of her hot little ass gently squirming on his fleshy rod was beginning to shatter what was left of his control.

"I could fix it so some clumsy boy would never hurt you, Marsha. You trust your father, don't you?"

She craned her neck around to look him in the you, eyes, genuinely baffled. "Sure I trust you, Dad. But I don't understand. What do you mean?"

"I mean," he said softly, "that there is a certain accepted practice in some cultures that, well, that allow the father to take care of things like that. Like his daughter's virginity. That way, you're ready, you're prepared for what's coming in life. It's perfectly normal in certain societies," he added hastily, astounded at his own glib lies.

Marsha's lovely young eyes, gaped in awe. "I still don't understand, Dad!"

He decided at that lust-maddened moment to show her what he meant exactly, rather than use any further persuasion. Mark slipped his fingers up beneath his daughters T-shirt and grasped a burning small tit in each hand. He began massaging them gently, rolling his thumb and fingers around the nipples, his meat quivering with frenzied desire.

"Dad, don't!" sobbed the dark-haired teenager. "Daddy, you're – I'm – oh! Golly, Daddy, you're doing something wrong!"

But all the adolescent did was moan and wriggle more hotly on his lap. To Marsha, what was happening was completely confusing and unlike her father. Yet, she didn't dare deny her virgin-pussy was beginning to seep hotly as her own father fondled ad stoked her tits. And she was acutely aware of the fact that the giant throbbing bulge just beneath the crack of her young ass was an erection.

"It's not wrong," Mark said quickly, nabbing her tits lasciviously and pressing his hot prick up against her juicy little ass harder. "I know exactly what I'm doing, baby, and Daddy is doing it for your sake. You do exactly what I tell you, honey, and afterwards you'll be happy. You do what I tell you!"

In that fatherly command lay magic words. Marsha had never disobeyed her father, both out of fear and love. And the luscious adolescent wasn't about to now, even though she felt there was something terribly guilty about it.

"Daddy! You're getting me hot!" the teenager sobbed. "Oh, Lord, Daddy, it's-it's long… Mmmmmmmm!"

Mark Jensen, at that moment of naked lust, was beyond any redemption or penalty. His gorgeous, hot-breasted young daughter was wriggling her succulent ass madly on his pounding prick, in spite of her protests. And now he slipped one hand down to her warm crotch, pressing and rubbing lasciviously. He could feel her juices begin to soak through. Marsha was nearly hysterical with both confusion and passion.

"Daddy! Why are you doing this? Ooooooo, Daddy. Oh I feel funny! Unnnnnngh!"

"For your own good, honey," he told her hoarsely. "Wouldn't you rather have your own father introduce you to sex than some idiotic boy? You know I love you, honey. You're my own daughter. I know what's best for you. Daddy knows."

Quickly, Mark unzipped the fly of his daughter's jeans. He slipped a hand inside her warm crotch. One finger pulled aside her panties, and he found her juicy, soaked young cunt already pulsing and waiting for him. Kissing her on the nape of the neck, one hand still fondling and squeezing her hot tit-mounds, he began fingerfucking his teenager daughter.

"Daddy! Oh My God, IT'S – wrong, so wrong!Ooooooo Daddy, I'm so hot, so worked up, ummmmmmm, oof!" He'd dipped one finger inside her tight cherry-cunt, and it was so hot and juicy he feared he might come in his pants. Damn, what a hot tight snatch! Undoubtedly Marsha was telling him the truth when she said she was a cherry. But now he wanted the wild sensations of his own daughter's naked succulence on his lap before he fingerfucked her to her first organ.

"Let's get undressed, baby," he whispered hoarsely in her car. "Come on, Daddy know best."

After years of total obedience, even her near hysterical confusion couldn't keep the lovely adolescent from complete obedience.

Panting feverishly, Marsha stood up and quickly stripped out of her clothes. Mark rose too, but his gaze never left his daughter's lusciously curved little body as he stripped. Damn, she was beautiful, even more beautiful than her mother at fifteen.

Marsha hesitated, her cheeks flushed and her tits heaving. She gaped at his massive long prick.

"You won't – you won't taut me with that, will you. Daddy! It's so big! And I'm a virgin!"

"Won't hurt you," Mark reassured in a voice hoarse with raw lust. "Come on back and sit on my lap."

The girl obeyed, trembling wildly. Her father's mammoth rod of flesh now hovered up between her tender thighs, its purple knob quivering with urgency. Now Mark began to gently fingerfuck his daughter, his blood pounding urgently at the gushing, sticky heat of her tiny cunt. His only fear was that he'd come, shoot his rocks right up into the air from the delicious satiny heat of her writhing ass on his lap. Meanwhile his other hand played with her softly-rounded hot tits. In less than a minute, Marsha was loudly sobbing and jerking her juicy cunt against his stroking finger in mad, fucking motions.