Jack Grant - Making Daddy

After a very long time, her father slowed his hard-hitting motions and came to rest. He propped his weight on his arms along her sides. He was breathing very hard and she could see the sweat glisten on his body and face.

She smiled up at him. "Oh, Daddy, that was so goood, mmm, soooo goooddd!" She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his face down so she could kiss him.

His breath rasped harshly in his throat. After a few seconds, he pushed himself up and pulled his deflated penis from her sopping-wet cunt. He sat beside her on the blanket, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

He couldn't look at her. God! What had he done? He'd fucked his own child! And she was a child-not even into her adolescent years yet! He tried to find shame in what he had done, but his body was filled only with the pleasure of having had her. He had not come like that for a very long time-if ever! It had been a very special experience-better than Nina, better than Francie, better than any woman he had ever known. He chewed at his lip. A kid, his own kid, a baby. Baby cunt. And he had loved every fucking second of it. It wasn't just the drinks; he knew that now. He had wanted her so damned bad this morning when he woke up and found her in his bed. God, it hadn't gone away all day. He wanted her when he went to meet Francie. He wanted her when he tried to drown his need with booze. And he wanted her when she crept to him in the darkness on this boat. He wanted her and he took her, and he was not ashamed.

Very slowly, he got to his feet and pulled her up. He put his arm around her and wordlessly led her to the shallow-water end of the boat and helped her down into the water. She stood very still while he wiped at her body with his hands under the surface, splashing the cooling, cleansing water over her tits and belly, then using his hand to scrub the thick, swollen labia with cool, refreshing water. He put his fingers into her cunt and washed her out the best he could. He couldn't help wondering if he'd made her bleed when he broke her hymen. When he was done, he lifted her to the boat and wrapped the beach towel around her thin body and dried and warmed her. Then he helped her pull the thin nightgown over her head and shoulders. He kissed her lightly.

"Go to bed now, baby… I love you." He gave her a gentle push toward the cabin.

He sat for a long time before he dried himself and put on his clothes.

When Francie Collins left Stan Hawley, she hurried back along the road toward her own house. Her heart was pounding with excitement and with the daring excuse she had told the man. It had been a hard choice to make, but she hoped now that she would not be sorry. Hawley had been great fun the night before, but somehow now that she had managed to seduce him, some of the thrill was gone. Not that he wasn't good-he was. Plenty good! But he'd appreciate her more if she weren't quite so available whenever he snapped his fingers. Besides, tonight she had a more exciting offer.

She thought again about the previous night, first with Stan Hawley, then with her blackmailing fucking brother. It had been an exciting night all the way around. And this morning, her brother had come to her again with a deal. He told her how much he had liked fucking her, wanted more. His buddy Drew Hawley was due back from a canoe trip today, and why didn't she spend the evening with the two of them? He had a couple of six-packs of beer stashed away and knew where there was an empty cabin they could use. Drew had been off in the woods for more than a week, and he would be ready for a good time and a good piece of ass.

At first, Francie had hesitated. She promised Jack her answer by dinner time. She had savored the memory of Stan Hawley taking her. More and more she found herself wondering what his son would be like-and more and more she found herself liking the idea. And Jack. Her brother had surprised her last night, both in the size of his sex tool and his talent in using it. More than that, the prospect of having two of them at the same time was the strongest attraction. She'd never had more than one cock at a time before. She decided to spend the night with the two boys. It was sure to be more exciting than a few stolen minutes with Stan Hawley.

So she met Stan and stalled him until the following day. She could have her cake and eat it, too.

Now at the road to her house she stopped and peered past it into the darkness. At first she saw nothing, but then a shadow moved and she saw the pale glint of moonlight on a moving figure. It was Jack. He waved a hand and she followed his gesture. When she caught up to him, he slipped his arm through hers and hurried her along the dark road.

"Drew's waiting for us," he said.

"Where are we going?"

He grinned and she saw the flash of white teeth.

"There's a cabin about a half-mile down the road that's been empty all summer. We've been using it, always straightening up when we leave so no one knows we've been there. Very convenient."

Francie frowned. "Who's we?" she asked.

"Me, Drew, a few of the other guys around." He spoke softly, almost in a whisper. They were walking past driveways to other cabins. Francie rarely came this way along the lake, and she had no idea who was living at the cabins and which were vacant. But her brother seemed to know, and she followed him, half-running with quick little steps from time to time to keep up with his long, loping stride. Funny, she hadn't realized how grown up Jack was until now. He'd always been just a pesky brother, someone to fight with and resent. But now, he was an interesting young man.

About a half-mile along the road, the trees thickened considerably and the road was flanked on both sides with dark woods. Francie had seen the cabins along this stretch of road. They were far apart, with high brush and woods surrounding them. Each one was virtually isolated from its neighbors.

Jack steered her down a sloping drive toward the lakefront. The cabin squatted near the water, a brooding, dark outline against the night sky. The sound of the lapping waves on the sand and rocks was the only noise.

Jack held her hand and guided her up the few steps leading to the back door of the house. He rapped very softly, twisted the knob. Then they waited while soft footsteps inside the house came toward the door. The door swung in and they entered quickly.

Francie held her breath and clutched Jack's arm in the pitch blackness of the interior of the cabin. There were no lights, and the shades had been drawn at all the windows, blocking any outside light. She heard the sound of movement; then a match flared. Drew Hawley held it up and grinned at them.

"Let's get in the other room. A light here might be seen from the road." He moved toward the front of the cabin, the match flickering as the air caught it. Jack led Francie through the small kitchen and into a larger room at the front of the house. "In the bedroom," Drew said.

"There aren't any drapes on the picture window. It's like a goddamn movie screen from the lake."

In the bedroom, Drew closed the door, struck another match and lit a lamp on the dresser. "Welcome to my lair," he said with a grin.

Francie looked around the room. It was a large bedroom on the corner of the house. The windows were covered by shades and over them heavy drapes of red velvet had been pulled. There was a huge four-poster bed at one wall, a large chaise lounge, a dresser, a vanity table and a metal stand with a small TV set. She was duly impressed, and grinned at the two boys.

"Who'd leave a joint like this empty all summer?" she asked.

Drew grinned back at her. "Our fairy godmother!" He turned and lifted the top of a small cooler on the floor near the dresser. He extracted three cans of beer and popped the lids, handed one to each of the others, then lifted his own in a toast. "To the Edwards family. May they long rest in the city while we enjoy their pad!" He put the can of beer to his lips and drank. When he lowered the can, his lips were flecked with foam.