Ron Taylor: Two hot families

Basically, it was jerking him off into my mouth, but he didn't seem to mind. He said, "Oh, Barbie," again, several times and I didn't mind either. I kept sucking on his rubbery swollen knob and my hand kept moving up and down his pole, and I knew that in a very few minutes he'd be gushing into my mouth. Oh, God, I prayed, let it be a big one! Let him come like a river! Let his sperm pop out my ears and eyes and nose, if you want – but make sure that most of it goes where it belongs, down my throat and into my tummy. I've done it for total strangers let me do it now for Daddy!

"Watch out!" he shouted. "Oh, God, Barbie, here it cooooommmeeesss!"

His prick knob swelled up like a balloon in my mouth, and it felt as if he were filling me again, with just the glans of his penis in me. My lips stretched with the swelling, and my tongue flew into a frenzy of action, licking and rimming his knob. I tried to dig my way into the deep deft slit at the tip of his meat stick, the hole where his jism would soon come bursting through.

Soon? My, God, it was now! The first salvo of Daddy's orgasm shot into me, and I felt a jerk of reflex excitement between my legs. I thrust my free hand down, into my lap, and the fingers skirted through the leg band of my bikini bottom onto the smooth flesh around my pussy gash. Nails scraped tender labia, and then my finger was inside me, pumping for dear life, and Daddy was pumping his cum into my gobbling mouth, and I felt a burst of orgasmic intensity lurking just inside my cunt, ready to explode.

Daddy sent blast after blast of jizz into my mouth, and I drank most of it, just the way I'd prayed I might do. God, he had so much of the stuff in him! It was like he hadn't climaxed for months, or years, even! Christ, what did he do for sex these days? He'd never talked to me about other women, but he hadn't talked to me about anything for the last four years. Well, the ice was broken. I'd find out someday, if it mattered. I didn't think it really did matter, though.

Sticky gobs of cum were dripping from my lips. I couldn't drink fast enough to take all Daddy had to give me, but I got most of it into my belly, where it belonged, and I didn't begrudge the spillover. Oh, I hoped he was watching me, looking down at his loving daughter as she proved her love in the most unmistakable fashion. I wanted him to see me eating his rod, to see the jism hanging in long sticky trails from my fluttering lips, to see that I was busy diddling myself to an orgasm that would complement his, that would stay forever in my memory so I could treasure this experience over and over and over.

I sucked on, and his cock gave a quivery jiggle in my mouth. Two or three more hot sticky shots came popping out of Daddy's dick, and then I felt him starting to go soft. I moved my head back, holding his dick in one hand, and I watched a lazy slow bubble, the final one, emerge from the tip of him. It drooped down, a long hanging strand of cum, and I caught it with my butterfly tongue before it could spill and waste in the grass at our feet.

Then I looked up, and I was delighted to see that Daddy was indeed looking at me. His eyes – God, how can I describe them? They were a potpourri of emotions, each struggling to gain command. Part of him was elated, part of him was satisfied, part of him was nervous, pert of him was guilty, and part of him was horrified. I smiled up at Daddy, trying to show him that it was okay. But my finger did a final poke into my pussy, and that orgasm hidden away seemed to burst aflame all at once. I threw my head back and moaned, shaking and shuddering all over, and my eyes closed, and for long sweet moment I was alone, reveling in the happy come that bucked and gurgled through my rippling twat.

The taste of cum was fragrant in my mouth when I felt Daddy's hands on my shoulders. He was squatting beside me, looking me square in the face. If nothing else, I thought, we've at least gotten to the point where we can look at one another.

"What in the hell possessed you to do that?" he asked in a tight voice.

"I wanted to," I replied. "And you needed it. Oh, Daddy." I shook his hands, squeezing them passionately, wanting nothing more than to share my newfound knowledge with him. "Don't you understand? You don't have to pretend I don't exist any more! We know the truth now, that we love each other very much, and there's no reason for us to keep acting as if we don't. What I just did – oh, God, Daddy, I can do that for you any time you want! Because I love you, damn it, and I don't want you to be unhappy and lonely any more, and because I don't want me to be lonely any more either! I've been without a father too damned long. I don't want to be an orphan for the rest of my life."

"It's crazy," he said. "It's wrong and it's wicked. We'll end up hating each other. I'll end up hating myself. God, I think I do already!" His hands shook in mine, and I tried to steady him. I slid a little closer. When my knee touched his, Daddy moved back. "No," be said. "I don't think I can trust myself again."

"You're being silly," I said. "You're trying to find evil where it doesn't where it can't exist. And I won't let you."

He shook his head. "Yes, Daddy," I went on. "Yes, yes, yes! Will you come with me now? Will you come with me and let me prove to you that I'm telling the truth? Let me introduce you to my friends. Let them show you what I'm talking about. Oh, Daddy, if you want to fuck me – and I know you do – you're hurting yourself and you're hurting me, too, by not doing it! The impulse isn't wrong. Covering it up the way you've tried to cover it up is wrong. For both of us. Come on, Daddy. Trust me. Will you? Just one time?"

"What else can I trust?" he asked. Slowly we got up from the pass. I tucked his cock back into his pants and zipped him, and then we went up over the hill and down to the little hollow where the Bankses had their camp.

The four of them were sitting in the shade near the convened school bus when Daddy and I came down the slope to meet my friends. He'd spoken to them before, but it was time he learned who they were and, more important, where they were at. If he knew, maybe he could look at me and at himself with a more honest eye.

"Alan, Connie," I said, pulling on Daddy's hand. "Will you talk to my father? You don't have to keep anything back unless you want to. Just talk to him. Make him see that it's all right."

Connie nodded and I thought it was strange she didn't ask any questions. It was as if she could read my mind, and Daddy's. "Hello, Mr. Gifford," she said, offering him her hand. "Your name is Steve, isn't it?" He nodded. "Alan, darling," she said, turning to her husband, "I think it will require both of us." Alan got up with a smile. As he walked past me he gave me a little nod that filled me with hope, and one of his hands clasped my shoulder for just a second, but, oh, Lord, did it ever make me feel strong and sure.

They went off with Daddy, talking in low voices, and I sat down beside Dierdre and David. We were like brothers and sisters, it seemed after two days of being with them, and, more important, we were like best friends, too. Dierdre put her hand on my knee. Any other time, I'd have thrown myself at her and started doing fun things, but most of my attention was on my father and the Banks parents, where they stood talking about fifty yards away, in the shade of a graceful, ancient olin tree.

"Don't sweat it," Dierdre said, catching my eye and ear. "I mean, you're already seventy-five percent there, y'know?" I must have given her a strange look. She squeezed my knee lovingly, then said, "When you didn't come back, I sneaked up to take a look. I was afraid you might be in the middle of a knockdown drag out fight, or were maybe trying to drown yourself out of rage. You were pretty mad when you left here."