Ron Taylor - Hot for dad

Betsy's heart skipped every other beat for what seemed an eternity as she performed her first finger-fuck on another girl. She stabbed, then pulled back till she'd almost vacated, and she stabbed once more, her finger thrusting deeply, lewdly, turning in a semi-circular fashion as it penetrated. Sibyl's drenched nylon pants were no match for Betsy's carefully manicured nail. One scratch and…"God!" Betsy whined. She had torn through the panties and now her finger was buried in real, slick, pulsating flesh! She wanted to thrust deeper, harder, but she was already as deep as her finger was long and the rest of her hand ground in futility at Sibyl's pussy.

For Sibyl, it was all over when Betsy broke through. The panties were like a nylon cherry. When they tore, she didn't bleed, but the bare finger inserted within her tickled juice out of her cunt. It kept wriggling and twisting, and so did Sibyl. She swayed from side to side, her thighs lifting and falling, her cunt grinding down to meet Betsy's hand, and even the padded cups of her bra couldn't quite conceal her erect nipples. Sibyl took her hands off Betsy's head, placed them on her tits, and squeezed until she ached and tears oozed from her eyes just as juice oozed from her pussy. Her lips were moving but no words were coming out, just a low-pitched, keening moan. The blonde girl trembled as she felt the orgasmic contractions which milked at her finger. If Betsy's digit had been a stiff cock, Sibyl would have a cuntful of jism right now.

Betsy was tingling and her tits seemed hard as lead balls inside her shirt. With her free hand she stroked her blouse, purring as she felt the aroused curves of her boobs, and then her hand was diving low, into the panty-covered gap between her legs. She shoved her fingers inside, pushing the lacy nylon trim out of her way, and her hand made thrilling contact with the dark-flossed mound of her pussy. Her nails were too long for uncontrolled masturbation – she was surely scratching her tender flesh – she didn't give a fuck! Her cunt opened wide and the fingers slid inside. Bunched together, they almost gave Betsy the feeling of being screwed by a relatively small cock. She sucked them up her pussy, and for good measure she began to ream Sibyl afresh, in counterpoint to her own masturbatory caresses.

She'd brought Sibyl to orgasm. Couldn't she do the same for herself? Betsy chewed her lips as she frigged in and out of her tight young hole, and she felt her body lifting, building up to it. She rammed her finger into Sibyl with an almost sadistic vehemence, drawing strength from Sibyl's rippling pussy action, from the younger candy striper's moaning cry of delight, and then her body responded just as she'd known it must. Betsy's cunt-dredging hand was awash with her cream, numb from the agitated vaginal contractions, and she closed her eyes in joy, shivering and whimpering as she came.

"I never did that before either," Betsy confessed later. "Not with a girl. But I don't think it makes either of us a lesbian. God, Sibyl, do you always come so hard? I thought you'd break off my finger! Are you sure you're a shy, withdrawn virgin? I mean, you come like a hot bitch."

Sibyl was dressed now, except for the torn panties, which she'd thrown into a wastebasket. It felt strange, but good, having her jeans crotch seam tight against her bare, tingly cunt, and she touched herself between the legs, relishing that good strangeness. "Honest," she smiled. "I really am a virgin. Except that I don't have a maidenhead. When I was twelve I had an accident in gym class." She squirmed, remembering that second of sharp pain, the sudden smear of carmine in her white gym shorts, the flustered face of Sister Barbara, the physical education instructor, when she realized what had happened. Still, she was a virgin. Unless Betsy's finger counted.

"And I think you're definitely hung up on your father," Betsy went on. "Don't deny it. You started creaming when I told you about him and me."

"I guess it's true," Sibyl agreed, blushing. "I think I've always felt that way about him. He's so good-looking, so romantic. I mean, like in glamorous adventure, not be a gigolo or something." She giggled nervously. "But I didn't realize it till the other day. Bets, I came home from the hospital – it was the day I met you, remember? You were sucking that boy – a crazy day, I guess – anyway, I got home, and Daddy was upstairs in bed with the girl who types his scripts. I watched them for a long time. He-he fucked her. She came, too. But he was still hard, so he made her suck on him until he squirted semen into her mouth. I felt sick, watching, but – I don't know, Bets, I felt strange, too. I didn't understand at the time. It was so disgusting. He was sticking that big thing of his…"

"Big is hardly the word," Betsy cut in, licking her lips.

"Sticking it into her body – her cunt – and into her mouth, too. Later I went up to my room and started touching myself, just like you were touching me. I hadn't masturbated in a couple of years, but I did then. I fingered myself till it hurt, and I couldn't forget how they'd looked, making love on his bed. And I-I wished it could have been me, instead of her! Bets, is that terrible? Do you think I'll burn in hell?"

"I don't even think there is a hell," Betsy said firmly, "and if there is, it's probably so full of politicians and military leaders, they don't have room for a poor little kid who just likes to play with her pussy and pretend she's getting fucked by a near, dear relation. Oh, look, kid, face the facts. He is your dad. He's a dynamite screw, too, but the only way you're ever gonna find that out is to hear it from someone who's been there. It's incest, and I don't believe he'd go along with you. No matter how doting he is."

Sibyl sighed mournfully. Betsy was right. It was only a dream. The urge had always been there, in her subconscious, but she'd not allowed herself to admit or accept it. Funny. They said that accepting your problem was the first step toward curing it.

"Look, Sib," Betsy added. "Let's have that picnic Saturday. You need something to get your mind off your daddy and his bod, and if you're willing to try desperate measures, I think we can do just that. I'll round up a couple of horny, adequate guys, and you and I will just go wild on them. You need to do some screwing around, to find out that the world is full of men, that a great many of them would be interested in giving you about six inches of love and affection."

David, the sensitive one, was definitely out. Betsy knew of no empirical evidence that he even had a cock, let alone that he'd be interested in using it on a girl. She needed guys whose past performance was a matter of record, and so she chose Wayne and Jim Marsh. They were cousins but looked more like brothers. She'd dated both of them last school year, though never simultaneously. Wayne was slightly better than Jim but neither was inadequate. It was just what Sibyl needed – a day in the country with a horny young guy who could help her forget about that silly, pathetic daddy fixation. And later she'd find more dates for Sibyl. This wasn't exactly what Ed had asked her to do – she really was pimping for the girl, more or less – but it was certainly the best thing for Ed's daughter. No one had to let him in on the secret; that Sibyl was going to be fucked out of her incestuous attachment to him. He'd assume she was just growing up.

"Remember," she told Sibyl as they waited for the boys to come for them. "Don't get attached. They're like St. Bernard puppies – cute and frisky, but before you know it, they've turned into lumbering clumsy hounds. Use them, then dump them."

Sibyl frowned. "Don't you even like them?" she asked.

"Oh, sure, I suppose," Betsy smirked, "but only for what they can do for me. Anyway, men have been using women that way for thousands of years, and we've always had to put up with it. Finally, the shoes are on our feet. Chin up, Sib! You haven't lost the rubbers I gave you? Well, don't forget to use them. And don't worry about the Pope. He doesn't have a cunt to watch out for."