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“Daddy, we’re home,” I heard Dulcie call from downstairs.
I quickly shut down the porn site I was watching in my office. Even after culminating my lust for my eighteen year old daughter Dulcie, I was uncomfortable flaunting my fascination with tight young barely legal bodies.
As I closed the laptop, I wondered “we who?” Dulcie’s older sister Carolyn was still away at college, not due home for a weekend until next month. Whoever was with my daughter, she obviously wanted me to head downstairs to greet them.
I shrugged as I walked down the second floor hallway towards the stairs, passing Dulcie’s room, pausing as always to gaze at her soft big bed, the source of what I still thought of as ‘all my troubles’. If she had not insisted on bouncing childlike on her mattress, I could have resisted the urge to fuck my little girl. Even if she was as much the willing seducer as I was, I still felt a mixture of guilt and desire for more.
Two weeks had passed. Dulcie was busy with cheerleading and school, seldom home to tease me with her taut athletic body. I found myself keeping to myself in my den, working sometimes, but mainly compulsively surfing porn, searching in vain for images that burned the memories of fucking Dulcie out of my brain. Instead, I found myself comparing photos and videos to my daughter, and found none of them to be nearly as hot. No slut was as depraved as my tarnished little angel. Finally, I even resorted to interactive live webcams, role playing with young beauties, but they could not match Dulcie’s pouty desire, or the wanton lust unleashed after we succumbed to our forbidden passion.
Dulcie’s final words before I had drifted of to sleep kept replaying in my brain.
“Did you hear that Jeanie’s home next weekend? Maybe we should invite her over to use the pool…” my baby had suggested.
But she had also said we would fuck more the next morning, only to have left for cheerleading practice before I awoke, and had not come home until after midnight. I had kept my distance, and waited for her next move. She had not even brought up the subject of our incestuous activity. Though as a parent I suppose I should have prompted a discussion of the wrongness involved, to make sure she bore no emotional scars, I honestly was just too ashamed. And even more ashamed about how I kept masturbating to my memories of how sweet my daughter tasted, how her cunt clutched at my cock, how her ass ate my finger.
Jeanie was one of Carolyn’s friends, a fellow cheerleader, but she was away attending a different college. I blamed Jeanie to some extent for my transgression with Dulcie. She was nubile, in a more obvious way than either of my daughters — pneumatic breasts, blonde ponytail, but still, hips more boyish than ripe which none the less swished about as if to say “we swivel like this because we love cock.”
While hanging out at our house, while using our trampoline, or pool, and rubbing up against me in the kitchen, Jeanie had vamped me repeatedly. Her attitude had driven me to extreme lust, which I had not been able to hide from Dulcie. That knowledge had in turn encouraged Dulcie to seduce me. Or to allow me to seduce her — our respective responsibility for ending up fucking and sucking was unclear. This ambiguity made me think about what happened even more. All I knew for sure was that it had left me a mess — embarrassed, ashamed, but still incredibly turned on. The more I thought about how cute Dulcie had looked, bouncing on her bed, and then touching my cock, the harder I came. Thoughts if how she had then sucked me like a lollipop, swallowing me seed… if I allowed my thoughts to go further, I would orgasm again, and that was just compounding the wrongness of it all.
Instead, I had made a mantra out of repeating “she’s a good little monkey…no more bouncing on the bed.”
And there had not been. Dulcie had initiated our fateful encounter by re-enacting her and Carolyn’s childhood pleasure of jumping up and down on the mattress until I had gone in to say “No more monkeys bouncing on the bed.”
Of course, when they were little girls, Dulcie had not worn see through nighties, or had such tempting titties. Thinking of those younger days, of my good little monkey usually distracted me enough that my cock shrank and I could concentrate on my work. If it didn’t, I tried thinking about Jeanie, who was not my daughter, and was known to be a slut.
I had no guilt filling my fist with goo while dreams of Jeanie played in my brain, which had happened fairly often over the past few weeks. Fortunately, Dulcie’s busy senior year schedule of school, gymnastic and cheerleading prevented any further embarrassing encounters where she overheard my self gratification. I wished that she would start dating more often. Maybe if she was having sex with guys her own age, I would not worry about how she felt about our fucking. Perhaps the trauma had ruined her life, though she did seem as cheerful as ever. If anything, there was a little extra spring in her step.
Like other mecidiyeköy escort athletic young women, Dulcie dressed casually, frequently in work out clothes, layered so that she could adjust as her body warmed up. I was quickly getting used to her bouncing through the patio doors into the kitchen with her spandex pasted to her flesh by perspiration. Her sports bras flattened her chest, and only occasionally the wetness made the fabric see through enough that the shadows of her areolae stared at me.
“Hi Daddy,” she would always say, grinning at me, eyes twinkling.
She would pause, body near enough that I could feel the heat. Standing on tiptoes, she would peck me on the cheek. Sometimes, her side would brush against my arm or my chest, and I would sense the weight as her full breast rub me. When Jeanie used to press too close, she was vamping me, but in spite of our incestuous encounter, I still believed in Dulcie’s innocence.
She just had gotten swept up in events. Like a snowball rolling downhill, my horniness and her curiosity made a flammable situation, and her bouncing on the bed had provided all the spark it needed to ignite. This rationalization stepped neatly past Dulcie’s efforts to fuel the fire by building up the tension ever since Carolyn left for school, but it allowed me to retain my parental balance. In other words, to keep my pants on and keep my cock in those pants, at least when Dulcie might be around.
When the house was empty, though, my cock seemed to spend increasing amounts of time in my fist, my fingers sliding up my shaft, bumping against the ridge at the bottom of the head, images of Jeanie dominating, though, shamefully, I sometimes pictured Carolyn or Dulcie. Those thoughts I persistently forced away, burying them deep in my psyche. Picturing Jeanie, so skinny but so large breasted, bouncing on the trampoline, sufficed to relieve my sexual frustration.
“Dad, you need a girlfriend,” Carolyn said every time she called. “It was great that you devoted yourself to us after Mom died, but we’re almost grown up now. You shouldn’t be alone.”
Then she would pause, but always add, “…and I know you have needs. You need a woman to take care of them.”
The last call had added a fresh ending. “A man can only go so long without sex.”
I had grinned when she said that, comforted by the indication that Dulcie had not told her sister what a pervert their father was. Since it was never going to happen again, there was no need for Carolyn to know. Perhaps I would try dating though, just to throw her off the scent when she was home visiting. She was correct to that extent — getting my hose drained regularly would, I hoped, reduce the ongoing distraction caused by Dulcie’s casual sensuality.
“Daaaaadddddyyyyy…” Dulcie shouted, snapping me back to reality. She always did have a petulant streak. Her mother’s baby, and then mine. Still mine, if I dared. Or, truth be told, if she demanded. I knew there was little hope of my ever saying ‘no’ to Dulcie.
I stood and walked out to the hallway, speaking as I approached the stairs.
“Don’t shout, honey, I was working.”
“Working, Daddy? On a Saturday? Or …..playing?” she giggled, low and lusty. A little extra emphasis on the last word. I wondered how her guest would interpret that.
I glanced down before heading down the stairs. My zipper was flat, not undone, no visible excitement, shirt tails casually loose all around. All good. I bounded down the stairs two at a time, perhaps unseemly for a man my age, but I felt a contact high from Dulcie’s enthusiasm.
Half way down, I saw Dulcie standing behind the center island in the kitchen. She was visible from her navel upwards. Those ripe young breasts she had used to seduce me two weeks prior were concealed and displayed all at once by a blue and white halter so snug it might as well have been painted on. Her nipples threatened to pierce the fabric, taunting me with memories of how tasty they were.
Standing next to Dulcie was Jeanie. She was even more provocatively dressed than my daughter, her full tits spilling out of a bikini top which was comprised of only two tiny triangles of fabric levered upwards by a string tied behind her neck. The fall day was too cool for this abbreviated clothing, so Jeanie’s nipples were even more obviously erect than Dulcie’s, tenting each triangle. The poor tie strained so tightly that there was a visible gap between the slope of her breasts and the string, which screamed “If I breathe heavily, my girls will tumble free. I know that you want to see that. I have the power, and plan to use it.”
All my hope of keeping my cock under control vanished in that moment. I felt the blood flooding to my groin, and knew that the swelling would quickly be straining the front of my pants. I paused on the top stair, unsure whether I ought to proceed further and expose my reaction. Maybe if I waited, it would subside. Not likely though — Jeanie was looking just too fuckable. nişantaşı escort Most likely, I would be engorged until she left my sight. Even then, I was already trying to calculate a way to sneak off for self relief because hormonal rebalancing might be the ultimate solution to this problem.
“Hi, Daddddy,” Jeanie grinned and giggled, imitating Dulcie. I smiled back, politely, and started walking again, slowly, willing my heart to slow to a normal pace. Soon, I was stepping off the bottom stair.
As I descended, I noticed that Jeanie was wearing more than just a matching bikini bottom. I tore my eyes off of her nearly naked tits and forced them down. Her hips were wrapped in a sheer print sarong, the sunlight shining through; much more sensuous than if she had been naked. She held a big straw hat in both hands, covering her midsection, so I could not tell what was beneath the sarong.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, Jeanie spun the hat up onto the counter top, but moved so fast that further inspection of her attire was impossible. She flung her arms out wide, bounding towards me, and leapt the final five feet between us. I automatically stuck my arms out to catch her, though her gymnastics training would probably have helped her more than my fumbling hands.
Jeanie’s hair brushed past my cheek, and then I felt the warmth of her breath on my ear and her cheek pressed to mine. I did not even process this invasion before feeling her chest compressing against me, the nipples drilling hard against my shirt, rubbing along my ribs. Her hands slid smoothly under mine, wrapping around my back, holding us tight. She had opened her legs wide as she jumped, and her feet locked behind my knees, pressing her thighs against mine. I could feel the curve of her stomach against my cock. Any reduction in my erection vanished. I was once again at full mast.
My hands instinctively curved behind her, grasping her shoulder blades. Her skin was slick with lotion, and my grip was loose, so as Jeanie writhed against me, my hands slid down her back. I did not want to grab her ass, so shifted them upwards, but they kept sliding, like I was rubbing her back on purpose.
This all likely lasted only a second or two — time is elastic at moments of stress. Then Jeanie released her feet from behind me. As she slid back to the floor, her lips grazed my cheek, planting just a hint of a kiss. Her hands grasped my upper arms, perhaps to steady her landing.
“My what big biceps you have, Daddy,” she giggled again.
“All the better to bounce you with my dear,” Dulcie replied in a mock deep daddy voice. I was speechless.
Jeanie was still standing in my personal space. With each breath, I felt her chest fill and brush those tantalizing nipples lightly against my shirt. She was looking up at me, face a few inches below my chin, displaying a goofy girlish grin.
“Nice to see you, Jeanie,” I finally stammered. “Just home for the weekend?”
Instinctively, I tried stepping back to create separation, but the stairs bumped behind my ankles, so I tottered awkwardly, which matched the inner confusion between my brain and my balls. I must have nodded off; this had to be a dream.
Jeanie seemed to wriggle her hips a little extra before stepping back. My hardness was intense against her flesh, only my clothes preventing precum from rubbing directly on her tanned belly where it curved up from above the low slung sarong.
“Cheerleading competition. Too bad Caro decided to give up cheering and focus on her studies, or it would be just like old times here.”
Two fingers twirled a lock of my hair behind my ear, casually, intimately, as Jeanie turned. “Still water in the pool I see. I’m looking forward to a swim. Later.”
“After what?” I wanted to ask, but could not force the words out.
“First, we’re going to my room, to giggle like little girls. I want Jeanie to tell me all about college life,” Dulcie answered my unspoken question. My daughter always could read my mind.
“And college boys?” I teased back.
Both girls giggled until they were a bit out of control, Jeanie crossing her arms across her belly and tilting forward, still only about a foot from me, and turned enough that I had a perfect view of the seemingly endless valley between her tits.
“Them too,” Jeanie agreed once the laughter subsided, turning back to grin goofily up at me again. “But I’ll also make sure that she knows that college boys are nothing like real men.”
I was pretty sure that Jeanie winked at me before she twirled away, sarong flying up to show off her toned legs. There was another fit of giggling from the girls. As Dulcie raised her hands to cover her mouth, her elbows mashed her tits together, drawing my eyes to her exposed cleavage. I could not help but recall how much I had enjoyed burrowing my face deep into that valley. My cock swelled fuller in recollection of how much it had enjoyed Dulcie’s other treats. There was no longer any doubt that otele gelen escort if either girl bothered to look, my erection was plainly visible, straining the zipper, begging to be unleashed.
Jeanie grabbed Dulcie’s hand as my daughter stepped out from behind the counter. I saw that Dulcie was dressed in typical casual shorts, her summer tan not quite faded, but no tan lines visible because the shorts covered more than the bikinis she wore while sunning by the pool.
Even though it is Dulcie’s home, Jeanie led the way up the stairs towards Dulcie’s bedroom. I tried to step aside, but the girls were moving quickly. They might have had enough room to go up the other side of the staircase, avoiding bodily contact, but either they were rushing too much, just didn’t care, or wanted to tease me further.
Jeanie led the way. Her hip brushed against mine, and then she twisted her body just enough to rub her pelvis against my erection, just for an instant, almost as if it was an accident, just in the same way she used to bump me with her breast. She kept on moving, grinning, but not making eye contact.
“Oh, sorry,” she giggled.
Her left arm still trailed behind her, holding Dulcie’s hand. She tugged my daughter along as she began climbing the stairs.
Dulcie was less subtle, her eyes fixing on mine as she followed her sister’s friendly rival towards her bedroom. The way that Jeanie held her forced Dulcie to pass in front of me and step around. Maybe she could have stepped right earlier, doing some nifty footwork — she had the dance training – but she passed so close that I briefly felt the warmth of her body, smelled her shampoo, and possibly felt the hint of hard nipples brushing against my chest. Her shoulder and upper arm bumped mine. Only then did she take a half step back, and turn.
“Sorry, Daddy, I guess you should have moved.” She teased.
I held my breath, waiting for her hand to caress my crotch. If forced under oath to testify that she groped me, I might have to admit that perhaps it did not quite happen. Her hand dropped along my belly certainly, the edge of her palm tracing my shape, and fingers dancing until she reached below my belt line. She straightened her arm, so that hand fell lower, but she was in motion, and maybe she grazed where my pants strained to contain my fat cock, but maybe she didn’t. My cock and my brain disagreed. My cock has always been an optimist.
“See you later, Daddy-o,” Jeanie teased from behind me as she led Dulcie up the stairs, both giggling as they went.
After my heart slowed a bit, I turned slowly, just in time to admire the tautness of my daughter’s ass as she reached the top of the stairs and turned out of sight. Her head was tucked by Jeanie’s shoulder, and it was possible that her hand was gazing the older girl’s ass. The throbbing of my cock also reflected my appreciation of her well muscled calves, the last bit I watched disappear.
My cock continued to ache, its stiffness unabated. I needed relief. Since I was only in the kitchen because the girls had called me downstairs, apparently just to tease me, they could hardly object if I returned to my office. With my door shut, I should be able to get off without being obvious about it. Once my hormones were adjusted, I’d be able to watch the girls sunning without embarrassing discomfort.
Dulcie’s room was almost at the top of the stairs, and I had to pass it on my way to my den. I noticed that they had not closed the door. I slowed a bit as I passed, trying not to be obvious about looking at the girls, and knowing that if I stopped, my erection would be even more painful. If they turned to talk to me, they would be staring right at it.
Jeanie was sprawled across the bed diagonally, her head towards the foot of the bed, her leg extended off the mattress towards the door. She lay on her left side, elbow down, and arm supporting her head. The sarong had fallen open, exposing her bare bronzed leg right to the hip. If she was wearing either panties or swim suit underneath, it would have had to be of the thong variety. All I could see was young womanly flesh.
Her positioning squished her bountiful boobs and more than a mouthful was spilling out of the top, bottom and sides of the bikini top. The tiny triangle on the right side had slid out of position, and from the doorway, her nipple was plainly visible. Even from ten feet or so away, I could tell that it was excited. This pleased my cock, but the few sane parental thoughts in my brain fought back, wondering whether I ought to be concerned about this display of sexual excitement in the presence of my youthful daughter.
‘She’s over eighteen, she’s all grown up now,’ the other voice in my head argued. Then, that devil snickered. ‘She proved that when she fucked you. You can hardly expect her to be innocent after that.’
I shifted my gaze to Dulcie, trying to resolve my internal conflict. She squatted on the bed, in her favourite pose — the same way she landed after bouncing on the bed, legs folded under her butt. I had a momentary flashback to how she looked on the night we had sex, wearing girlish baby doll pyjamas. Of course, the sheer see through fabric had displayed all of her assets to me then. I smiled that her halter and shorts were relatively modest today, especially when compared with Jeanie’s attire.
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