----------------------------------------------------------------- This text file contains explicit material unsuitable for anyone below 18. If you are underage, please do not read beyond this line. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Content: cafe au lait.txt (Mf inc ws) Author: Blerg3 Story title: Cafe Au Lait ----------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright to Blerg3 (c) 2014. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story except for your own personal use. I'm fine with sharing of this story via any person to person form of file transfer such as email, IM, flash drive, bluetooth etc, but please do not upload to any other sites without permission. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Cafe Au Lait (Mf inc ws) by Blerg3 ----------------------------------------------------------------- A daughter's slow seduction of her father finally pays off. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Thomas Carroll, forty, wandered downstairs at approximately nine-thirty am, scratching his chin and yawning. The rich smell of coffee already floated through the air, and his stomach rumbled as he entered the kitchen where his wife and daughter were having breakfast. Emily was in great shape, even at thirty seven, and in her skintight running gear, it really showed. His wife of nineteen years, and still every bit as sexy as when they'd met. He wasn't too bad himself, he thought as he sat down, grimacing ruefully at the bacon-free table. Still, you had to pay a price, and things like that were the price. He would usually be out there running with Emily every Saturday, but his knee had been acting up recently, so on doctor's orders he was taking a break. It wasn't so bad, he enjoyed spending lazy Saturday mornings with their daughter Sandra, watching TV or playing the occasional card game, but he could almost feel himself getting fatter, and craved the exercise. He poured a bowl of cereal, blearily came very close to pouring coffee on top of it, but was corrected just in time by Sandy. Sitting back with a cup of it under his nose, he slowly began to wake up. He watched Sandy affectionately as she sliced an apple, buttered a piece of toast, her thick red hair waving, loose and wild about her shoulders. It was quite amazing, he thought, how their daughter had ended up with this stunning display of colour while his own hair was black, and Emily's straw blonde. Pure luck of the draw. Though, looking at the teen, that luck of the draw was beginning to show through in other ways. She was wearing her usual nightwear, one of his old t-shirts, a soft baggy thing worn and holed at the shoulders and with the Cure's album art for Disintegration emblazoned across the front. It fell halfway to her knees, but even so she was looking quite shapely- particularly her legs. Her mother's legs were pretty fantastic, one of the things that had drawn him to her when she'd been about the same age, but if he was totally honest, Sandra's were well on their way to spectacular. He felt a little ashamed at the thought, comparing his wife to his daughter, and in such a typically male way, but hell, they were right there. As was the rest of her. She caught him looking her way and grinned widely, her bright green eyes flashing with amusement. He'd seen that look a lot recently and wasn't entirely sure what it meant, but compared to the horror stories he'd heard from colleagues about their teenage kids, he'd take any relatively happy look. He looked over to Em and shrugged. She smiled, kicked him affectionately under the table, and pushed her chair back. "Alright kids, I'm off out." She placed her empty cereal bowl on the counter, then returned to the table to give him a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'll be back in an hour or two, if the weather holds up. If it starts raining, I'll be back sooner. You two have fun." He finished the remainder of his coffee pensively, and poured another cup while Sandy tidied her plate and bowl, placing them by the sink before turning back to him. "Hey dad, should I wash up?" He smiled. "Thanks love." Yeah, he'd definitely come out lucky with the teenage lottery. He finished his cereal and passed the bowl to Sandy, up to her elbows in foam, large yellow washing up gloves comical on her small hands. She'd tied a knot in the t-shirt at one corner to keep it out of the way, incidentally pulling it up at that side and revealing half a bare cheek. If he was only twenty years younger and someone else's father, he thought with amusement, sitting back at the table. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him and he looked back sharply- was she wearing panties? No, come on, he told himself. If she is or isn't, it's not a big deal- she's at home on a Saturday morning, only us here. He remembered all too clearly an embarrassing period less than ten years previously when she'd gone through a phase of refusing to wear them, and their attempts to get her to at least wear trousers to school instead of the dresses she usually favoured. Now he could remember that with a grin, but at the time it had been awkward to say the least. However, now she was in her teens, she could definitely choose for herself whether or not to wear underwear, none of his business. He took a banana from the fruit bowl and tried to get his mind off of the subject of his daughter's panties. Still... he looked over at her again. He didn't think she was wearing any. But, the more juvenile part of his brain said, she's got a cute butt. And the irritating part was, it was right. He couldn't help but watch the slight movements of fabric across it as her arms moved in the soapy water, even with the growing certainty she was going to turn around and catch him staring. Reach up, he thought, just put something on a high shelf, so I have confirmation one way or the other and I can stop thinking about it. He was slightly alarmed to realise he wanted her not to be wearing anything, like the early days when he'd lived with Emily and had her tease him in a similar fashion. Was this all a sort of horny nostalgia? Or, he realised with a stronger flash of alarm, was his own daughter actually teasing him? The internal conflict only grew as he realised how shocked he was by the idea, yet how much he wanted that to be the case. If I leave the room now, he thought, go and do something else, I can forget about it, at least for now. That's all I need. Then when Emily gets back, I can hop in the shower with her, maybe talk to her about it. Or, another part of his brain said, sort it out now. Just ask her. They were always honest with each other, it couldn't hurt. "What, dad?" Sandy said, turning to him, gloves dripping on the floor. Oh god, he'd asked her. Said the question out loud. No choice but to blunder on, if she had heard, backing out now could leave the situation in an incredibly awkward vacuum. "I was just wondering if you were wearing any underwear, young lady." He attempted to make it sound as fatherly and jovial as possible, but that was a sentence you couldn't ask anyone over a certain age without it having different connotations, and he could hear them ringing out the moment he'd said it. She stood there, and he wondered if that was it, he'd ruined their happy father-daughter relationship- and then she blushed. "You noticed." "I noticed?" He echoed, confusedly. "I do just like the way it feels not wearing any, but why else would I be going without right now?" There was a sudden lurch in his stomach, like a bowling ball dropped onto a trampoline. "You wanted me to see. Sandy, why? You're my daughter!" "I know- but I'm going to be honest here- that's part of it. I think about you, a lot. And about mum." Thomas shook his head as though he could dislodge what he was hearing, the shock feeling as though his brain was being flushed through with cold water. "I just don't get it. Of everyone in the world, all the cute teenage boys and girls out there, your own parents?" She blushed more deeply, lowered her head. "It's weird, I know it is, but that's sort of why. It's taboo. Exciting. I fantasized a long time, but I think I'm old enough to decide that I don't just want a fantasy, dad." He wasn't sure how to react to any of this, it shocked him to the core; but some undercurrent, the same part that defiantly told him she was attractive, had tapped into that excitement she described. It was wrong, broke all the rules, but precisely for that reason it was hot. However, that was fantasy, the reality struck him as something that just didn't fit into his world. "What would your mother say?" He said, almost in desperation to find some point that would at least buy him time to think. Sandra looked at him sceptically. "What do you think, dad?" He winced. Emily. She'd always advocated some... well, slightly unusual points of view on such things. She'd told him once, back before Sandy was born, that sex between family members struck her as a good idea, at least early in life. He couldn't remember her reasoning, only the look in her eyes as he pulled a face that told him she thought he was being narrow-minded. God help him, it was one of the things he loved about her, that she could take a viewpoint that struck him as unnatural and utterly shatter his convictions with solid reasoning. Sandy had clearly inherited that mode of thought, and more besides. Of course, if Sandy had mentioned this fantasy to Emily first then she would've worked through it, and probably seen no reason for her daughter not to go ahead and try for what she wanted. But while Emily said these things, he'd seen no evidence to suggest that if he were to actually act on any of them it would go down well with her. So, what to do? "Are you alright, dad?" Sandy asked, showing obvious and touching concern. "I'm okay. But it's a shock, Sandy, I'm just processing. In any case- have you talked to your mother about this?" She hesitated, then nodded. "I thought she'd understand- well, better. Dad... haven't you wondered why she's out running right now?" Thomas looked blankly at his daughter. "She's running, like you said. Exercise." Sandy dropped the gloves back by the sink, pulled out a chair, and sat across the table from him. "She's been giving me some time and space with you. I didn't expect... I mean, I sorted of acted on the spur of the moment today. I had a longer plan, but..." She grinned wryly. "Well." Comprehension dawned slowly but inevitably, one of those moments where you see the ball headed for your face, but can't seem to stop thinking and dodge the thing. "You mean to say, my wife, your mother, has been giving her teenage daughter space to develop a relationship with her father?" Sandy nodded cautiously, as though he might explode. Instead, he laughed, suddenly, as long and hard as he could remember ever having laughed at anything. When he'd recovered to some degree, and Sandy was looking at him with that concern again, he managed to catch his breath long enough to speak. "Sandy, this is incredibly confusing. But I think we can say you have the best mother you could hope for, and I have the best wife. She's crazy, but I love her. So much. And I love you. And I'd be lying to myself and insulting you, and your mum, if I said... well, that I wasn't attracted to you. So there you have it. If- if she's given... this, whatever it is, the go ahead, and I can't object without both being a bad dad and husband and even lying to myself, then I guess it's good. Okay." The moment the last word was out, it was as though he'd popped some massive bubble of tension and confusion, everything was alright again, however odd the circumstances and morals might be. It felt as though after days working at picking apart the Gordian knot, he'd simply been handed a few bits and pieces and a simple instruction manual, and on fitting them together finding he'd crafted a sword. But now what? Sandy was smiling. "We're a weird family." He nodded agreement. "The weirdest. But I'd also be inclined to say we're among the happiest and oddly enough, most issue free. You'd be a fantastic daughter even if I hadn't suddenly discovered, well, this." Sandy grinned. "That's the weirdest thing, isn't it? We can say it now, it's out in the open, but it's still difficult. It's like the first time you try swearing in front of your parents and it turns out it's okay, but you still find it strange to do so. But... hell. Dad, you know what?" "What, love?" He replied, relishing the moment. There was a pause as they looked straight into each other's eyes over the kitchen table, hers that fantastic green, his a clear blue. "I want to have sex with you." Even knowing it was coming, it was delicious. An electric shock ran down his spine, his heart rate and breathing spiking instantly, like the first time Emily had told him she loved him. Despite her absence, the moment served to deepen that truth, and reinforce his love for her- as well as to tent his boxers like a cathedral's spire. "Sandy- you too. I can't bring myself to say the sorts of things I want to say, but you can be sure I'm thinking them." She broke into a wide smile. "Like what? I've seen a lot of porn dad, read a lot of stuff online. I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy hearing it, whatever it is. Even from my dad." "I want to-" It rang out shockingly loud in his head; 'I want to come on your tits.' But his throat somehow wouldn't loosen enough to say that to his daughter. He'd said a lot of far dirtier things to Emily over the years, but there was no way he could have when they first met, and this felt similar. He sighed. Sandy giggled. "You're too nice, dad." She looked down at the table, then caught his eye again. "I want to lick honey off your cock." It didn't even register for a moment, sounded so unnatural his brain blanked it out. Then it caught. "Sandy!" She laughed richly. "You've gone red, dad. Who knew you were so easily embarrassed?" He broke into a grin, then slipped easily from his seat and around the table, catching Sandy by the sides as she made to run and tickling her until she screamed with laughter. He fell back in her chair, Sandy collapsing into his lap in a fit of giggles. Catching her breath, she looked over her shoulder mischievously. "What's that I feel against my back?" He was all too aware of how he was pressed up against her, but even more so of a certain slippery feeling on his leg. "I might ask you the same about my leg." She looked down, then slid from his lap, turned and sat back down on his knees, lifting her t-shirt. "Oh, you mean this?" she said casually. He'd known for a little while now that she wasn't wearing panties, but that was the moment it really clicked home, as he saw the pink and slippery parting in her flesh, its topping of fine rust-red hair, and the glistening patch on his thigh. He caught the front of his boxers with a thumb and hooked it over his cock, letting it fall heavily forward, suspended at forty five degrees right above her wet slit. He saw her eyes widen as she took in the size of it, and grinned in the realisation that he was bigger than she'd expected, always a pleasant reaction. She looked up at him and giggled. "My, daddy, what a big cock you have!" He beamed back and kissed her forehead- fitting enough that she would play on how they used to read red riding hood together when she was little. "All the better to fill you with, my dear." He leered. She laughed, then leant back and slowly pulled her t-shirt off the whole way, dropping it carefully on another chair. "And how about these, mister big bad wolf?" She said as she pushed her chest forward, but the line was a little forced, and he could detect some real anxiety in her voice. He thought of Em's fairly substantial chest, and could see why she might be worried about how he would see her own. However, any worries were entirely unfounded. Her breasts weren't large, but pert and perfectly sized for his hands, a dusting of freckles across their upper curves, small tan nipples upturned and erect. He leant back in his chair and surveyed her contentedly. "Sandy, I can hardly believe you're my daughter sometimes. You're fucking beautiful- more so than I ever could've imagined you'd grow up to be, with my genes in there- you've got your mum to thank for all that." She slid slowly forward until his cock was pressed upright against her flat belly, her breasts pressed firmly against his chest, and kissed him. "You're such a liar dad, and you know it." She slipped back again, and he felt a taboo thrill as she wrapped a hand tightly around his cock with a grin. "You look great." Abruptly she let go, and started to rise to her feet. "But first, I've got to go and pee." Thomas caught her thighs and sat her back down. "I don't see why you need to go anywhere for that..." Reaching round her, he caught the handle of the large glass jug they used for orange juice in the mornings, and slopped the remainder into his empty bowl, before holding it up in front of her. A slow smile spread across her face. "Aha, daddy has a secret fetish?" "Well, maybe not a very secret one, but yes I do- I might well even blame little you for it." She laughed hard, clapping her hands delightedly. "Because I...?" He nodded, slightly shamefaced. She grinned ever wider. "Oh, I love that." She caught the jug and lowered it as he spread his legs until she was sitting with her legs spread wider, bridging the gap, with the jug on the floor beneath them. She closed her eyes as he watched intently, and within seconds the first spurt of urine burst from her and rang against the bottom of the jug. She opened her eyes again with a grin, and seeing Thomas smile, continued, the steady stream of pee spattering into the jug, the pitch of the ringing changing as the level rose inside it. His face was ecstatic, and she couldn't help but giggle, missing the jug slightly and spraying the tiles beneath his chair, which only made them both grin wider. She finished and waited as the last few drops fell, and he picked up the jug and put it aside on the table, and kissed her. Even as his lips met hers, she felt his hand brush down through her pubic hair then curve under, slick against her wet skin. A finger probed, gently found its way inside her and began to move lightly, somehow touching just the right places to rapidly build waves of pleasure. Thomas felt an odd thrill that Sandy should respond so well to exactly the things that worked on Em- he'd heard, though he couldn't remember where, that such things were occasionally inherited, but it was something he'd never expected to find out first hand. He could feel her moving around his finger, tightening and releasing, hear her slight gasps as his fingers found other sensitive spots. His daughter. Every time he thought it, every fresh realisation of the facts was another perfect thrill (and slight touch of guilt, but that would pass). "If your mum could see us now..." He said. "She'd be taking her clothes off already." Sandy replied. "You know... mum taught me to masturbate when I was younger?" He laughed. "You needed teaching?" She tilted her head and smiled. "Not really, but she gave me some good tips- and her teaching method was very... hands on." She pulled his hand away, face showing some reluctance, and slid from his knees to the floor beneath the table. "What's up?" He asked her. She grinned playfully, only her smile showing beneath the edge of the tablecloth. "Nothing. But it's my turn now." She put her hands on his knees and slid forward, the tablecloth brushing her hair back wildly from her eyes, and slid her lips over the tip of his penis. She paused with the tip just beyond her teeth, those sparkling green eyes looking right up into his, gaze electric, before turning her eyes down again, and slipping her lips further down. He held onto the edge of the chair, white knuckled. She wasn't taking him particularly deep into her mouth, but her lips and tongue were expert, and the waves of pleasure were threatening to wash him over the edge already, only half a minute in. She seemed to sense that and slowed, rolling his penis gently around her tongue then slipping back, a strand of saliva snapping to her lip. She wiped her mouth bashfully, then grinned. "Am I doing well?" "There aren't any words to describe it." She smiled happily. "That bad, huh?" "The worst." Her lips tightened around the tip of his cock again, tongue circling, joined by her right hand moving on the shaft, and suddenly her left hand caressing his testes. The motions were regular but the combination and timing was magical, and he rose to near orgasm in seconds. Without removing her mouth she felt carefully on the table behind her, catching the handle of his half full and still warm coffee, and managed to bring it round without spilling any, pulling her head away as her hand grew faster, pushing him over the edge. She tilted the coffee mug, rim to the underside of his penis as it hit him hard enough his hips jerked, spurting creamy load after load into the warm black coffee. Just when he thought he was done she slipped her free hand to the base of his cock, stroking the shaft and balls lightly at the same time, sending another wave of pleasure ripping through him, and more sperm splashing into the mug. He let his head fall back, eyes closed, as the orgasm ebbed, feeling literally drained. He could feel as she moved from under the table, and hopped up in front of him to sit on its edge. As soon as he could easily speak again he lifted his head. "Where on earth did you...?" She gestured vaguely with the coffee mug. "I had some tips from mum. That, and my imagination I guess." "You have always had quite the imagination. That was- spectacular. Incredible." She fixed her eyes on his as she grinned and lifted the coffee, took a sip. He pulled a face. "That can't taste great." She smiled wryly. "Honestly, it doesn't. But I wanted your cum inside me, and I didn't want to do something like gag if you shot straight in my mouth, so this is the first thing I thought of." She tilted her head and drained the cup, then wrinkled her nose. "Bitter." Thomas was hit abruptly with the memory of the first time Em had taken him in her mouth, and her comment at the time, with the same nose wrinkle, the same inflection on the one word. He laughed out loud. "You are incredibly like your mother, you know." Emily lifted a foot to his lap, lazily playing with his shrinking cock with her toes. "Well, that's a good thing, isn't it? And speaking of her, what are we going to say, going to do when she gets back?" He grinned at her. "We? This was all your idea, I was seduced." Sandy gasped in mock outrage, then grinned back. "Like that makes it any better for you." She pointed a finger dramatically. "In the eyes of the law this was adultery. And incest? Have we done enough it would still be called incest?" He frowned. "I think so. I'm hazy on all the legal issues, but at the very least you could say it was incestuous." Sandy looked amused, and slipped back forward to his knees. "It's probably illegal as hell whatever, what with me being short of the age of consent... so why quibble over the details?" He had to grin at that. "True, true. Well, whatever the case may be, I think the best solution when your mother gets back is that we allow her to deduce instantly everything that happened in that way she always does, and then we join her in the shower." Sandy smiled eagerly, emerald eyes glittering. "That sounds like a plan, dad. A fantasy of yours?" He kissed her forehead, and grinned. "I can't say it wouldn't be fantastic."