Jack Grant - Making Daddy

Her cunt had come alive now, aching and wet for him. She could feel the slow trickle of her juices wet the tool, and it twitched to make her even hotter. She had known it would be fun, exciting, but even this little bit was driving her crazy. She couldn't stand the pressure in her guts any longer. She had to make her move, had to try to accomplish her purpose. God, she was getting wetter and tenser by the minute!

She wiggled and tried to impale herself on his shaft of flesh. The wet, hot head slid over her labia and past the tiny cunt opening. She moaned softly, almost in tears now. He was lying almost atop her and she couldn't move enough to force the change of position she wanted. And to push at him, to try to move him, would surely waken him. And she was afraid of what would happen then. After all, he was her father, and he didn't need her for sex the way she needed him. He had Mom and he had Francie… maybe even other girls or women. But she had no one but him … and she wanted him now.

She moved again and the hot spear touched her swollen tissues. She held the cock there, tightening her thighs around it, forcing the big prick between the folds of erotic flesh. It touched her clitoris and sent shock waves of pleasure through her lower belly. But his cock was flat against her cunt and she couldn't wiggle enough to poke it upward. In desperation, she finally reached down with her hand and grabbed her father's cock.

The sudden motion woke him. Her father grunted, rolled half off her; then, as if thinking better of it he rolled back and onto her. It was a reaction without thought, a sexual need he wanted fulfilled. He wasn't aware of who lay beneath him. In his groggy state, he probably thought it was her mother, Robin decided. She quickly spread her legs and held her breath, waiting for him to complete the action he had started.

Stan Hawley came awake very slowly, not wanting to open his eyes to face the new day. He hadn't slept enough… he wanted to sack out longer… but, Christ, he was hard, and Nina was pulling him onto her and into her. He could always use a quickie then go back to sleep.

Without opening his eyes he rolled on top of her. His cock was stiff and he felt the heavy pulse pounding along its length and deep in his guts where his action began. He pushed between her legs.

He was only dimly aware that it was different this time, and his foggy brain made no effort to identify the difference. Smooth flesh, he thought. He pushed and the tip of his cock parted the hot lips and tried to enter her. Christ, why the hell didn't she open her fucking legs and let him get in her snatch! He shoved again and heard the tiny whimper.

He opened his eyes and found himself staring down at his ten-year-old daughter.

For a moment he was too stunned to move. He was braced over her, his hard cock stabbed between her slim legs, the tip of it already wet and uncorked from the sheath of foreskin, ready for fucking. He had thought it was Nina! A wave of horror washed over him at what he had almost done.

He forced himself away from her naked flesh and dropped back onto the bed, propping himself on one elbow and shaking his head in disbelief.

"My God! Robin! What are you doing here!" His voice rasped from his throat like fingernails on a blackboard. His kid! He'd almost fucked his kid! His face was filmed with cold sweat. He saw her glance at his genitals and he quickly jerked the sheet to cover himself. She tried to smile at him.

"Are you all right, baby?" he asked quickly. He was scared, so scared his guts ached. He'd almost fucked his own kid! He looked at her now, lying there with her nightgown tangled all around her so her baby cunt was open to his sight. His mouth went dry and he looked away. Why the hell wouldn't his prick go down! The goddamn thing was still as hard as tooled steel. He laid his arm across his lap and tried to look as though he had nothing to hide. His fucking cock was sticking up like a flagpole.

"Yes, I'm all right," Robin said in all very small voice. She didn't sound all right, and he peered at her.

"You sure, honey?"

She nodded and bit her lip.

"God, baby, I'm sorry. Christ, I was half-asleep. I didn't-" He couldn't go on and he had to look away again. His cock was still a ramrod and his loins ached. What the hell was the matter with him! He glanced at her again. She looked so damned sweet and innocent lying there. The thin nightgown she wore barely covered her flesh, and he could see the dark patches of her nipples through it. He wished she'd pull down the gown, or cover herself so he couldn't see the smooth, gleaming mound of her pubic area. He didn't have the guts to do it for her. He didn't dare touch her-not the way he still felt. His mind whirled in confusion, and he felt as though he had a colossal hangover.

With guilt, he remembered the girl last night-Francie. Maybe his sleeping brain had been busy with thoughts of her when he tried to mount Robin.

Robin touched his arm… "I'm all right, Daddy, honest." She smiled and he had to offer half a smile in return.

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm sure."

"What are you doing in here?" he asked.

She licked her lips in a quick nervous gesture and smiled again. "I wasn't feeling so good. Mom and Jodi went to pick up the boys, but I didn't feel good so I went back to bed. Then I felt worse, and I got scared. So I came in here…" She couldn't look at him with the huge lie on her tongue.

He put his hand to her forehead. She felt a little warm but not really feverish. "Where does it hurt, honey?" he asked.

She hesitated, then pressed the palm of her hand to her belly. He frowned, forgetting his own problem as his concern for the child grew.

He touched the naked flesh of the smooth white belly below the line of tan where her shorts and swimsuit ended. She was firm and warm, and he probed his fingers gently at the flesh. Appendix? He poked but she didn't jump.

"Does that hurt?" he questioned.

She shook her head.

"Here?"

"No."

"Here?"

She shook her head. "Down further." The two words were barely a whisper. Would he do it? Would he touch her where she wanted him to touch her? She held her breath and closed her eyes partway, watching him through the narrow slits.

He paused, unsure, yet needing to know. Slowly, his hand moved down on her body. The heat seemed to increase and he couldn't resist the pressure that seemed to grow on his fingers. He was hypnotized by the gentle swelling just above the juncture of her thighs. She was still lying as she'd been when he climbed off her, with her legs spread slightly. He had a spasm of lust as the memory of his hot cockhead against that virgin territory assailed him. He was sweating again, but he couldn't move his hand from her pubic mound. It was so smooth, so incredibly warm and smooth. He felt his fingers twitch, and her body quivered slightly under them.

"This where it hurts?" he asked. He pressed lightly and had to catch his breath as his cock jerked violently with desire. Somewhere deep in his conscience, he knew it was a game, that she wasn't in pain, but he couldn't stop. His hand moved again, over the hump and to the softer flesh of the edge of her labia. She shivered now, and he didn't look up at her. His fingers probed gently at the softer part of the hill of erotic flesh, moving gently and slowly down and toward the crevice that hid her virgin cunt.

"Yes… there… yesss…" Her words were escaping breaths fluttering in the quiet room, hovering between them like a lover's plea.

He swallowed hard. His throat was very dry now and he was having trouble breathing. His lungs were on fire, and his belly was a tight knot of pain. His prick was poking the sheet upward and a small spot of wetness stained the peak of the tented cloth.