Archive-name: Family/incest
Archive-author: Melanie X  
Archive-title: Incest


     I can't believe it was only five years ago.  It seems longer.  I've  
done a lot of living and a lot of growing, physically and emotionally, in  
the past five years.  As I write these words in my dormitory room at  
Northwestern University where I'm an Economics major, my thoughts drift  
back to that Kansas City summer after I graduated.  It was the first time   
I tried to get my father to have sexual intercourse with me.  
     My father owns and operates a Kansas City steak house that I'll call  
the Golden Steer, in case what I'm about to tell about Daddy and me would  
hurt business if I used the restaurant's real name.  For a guy who started  
as a short order cook, Daddy has done well.  In return for the long hours  
he puts in at the restaurant, he earns a high enough income that we not only   
have a home in the exclusive County Club district of Kansas City, but we  
own a summer house on Prairie Lee Lade as well.  Daddy also buys a new  
Cadillac every other year.  
     The summer I turned 15 my Mom had been dead only a year.  We lost her  
to leukemia.  I took Mom's passing hard, of course, but Daddy seemed to take  
it even harder.  He was a lot quieter than he used to be, and I rarely saw  
that big, boyish grin of his any more.  
     The first scene that stands out vividly in my memory took place the  
evening of the day after my sixteenth birthday.  Daddy and I were sitting in   
the  twilight on the sundeck of the lake house.  Nobody else around.  Crickets
chirping, Daddy leafing through the Kansas City Star in the fading light, me  
just sitting there watching the sun go down and the moon come up. 
     All of a sudden, Daddy laid his paper aside.  He looked at me for a long  
moment.   Then he said, "You're a pretty girl, Melanie." 
     The compliment pleased me.  It was the first time my father had ever told 
me straight out that I was pretty.  Not that I was unaware of having been  
blessed with passably good looks.  All my girlfriends told me they envied my  
naturally curly blonde hair.  And the boys were beginning to take notice of my 
developing figure. 
     My delight at my father's compliment faded as he stared at me intently.  
"What's the matter, Daddy?"  I asked. 
     "Melanie, I think it's time we had a little talk," he began.  "I know
you've been learning the basic facts of life at school, but uh...ah..."  He
broke off in embarrassment, muttering something about how he wished my mother
was there to handle the situation.  At last, he tried again.  "Let me put it 
this way," he said.  "With the way you're maturing, it won't be long before 
you're going to have to cope with, uh, sexual advances from boys."
     Little did Daddy know.  As he launched into a lecture on the virtues of
chastity as opposed to promiscuity, I thought naughtily of the sexual advances
I was already getting from boys.  There were the furtive pinches in hallway
crowds at school that had been unknown before my figure started filling out.
There were also verbal advances from fresh boys like Jimmy Fenwick, who'd
told me he'd like to kiss me between my legs.  While I wasn't about to let
Jimmy do any such thing, his imagery did hold a certain fascination for me.
     Although I paid only halfway attention to Daddy's anti-sex lecture, that
evening left a vivid impression on me nevertheless.  The impression was caused
mostly by the look on my father's face as he stared at me while telling me
I was pretty.  I thought a lot about that look afterward.  I decided that 
although I must be mistaken, it sure had resembled a look of sexual desire.
     About two weeks after the session on the sundeck, I was lying in bed
masturbating before retiring for the night.  A fantasy man hovered over me, 
his buttocks churning between my thighs as he thrust his thick cock in and
out, in and out of my pubescent vagina.  My masturbatory lover had no face, 
no name, was more shadow than substance, but he had helped me get myself off
scores of times in the years since I'd begun playing with myself.
     Suddenly, I heard a key turn in the downstairs door.  The door squeaked
open.  That would be Daddy coming home from the restaurant.  I stepped up the
tempo of my fingering of my clitoris in hopes of having my orgasm before Daddy
looked in for his usual goodnight kiss.  However, I hadn't quite come when he
stuck his head in the door.
     "You awake, Melaine?" Daddy asked softly.
     "Yes," I murmured as I teetered on the brink of orgasm.  I stopped 
diddling myself under the sheets as he came over to plant a kiss on my 
forehead.
     When he bent over me, I noticed that my father's silhouette bore a marked
resemblance to that of my fantasy lover.  
     I don't know what came over me then.  It wasn't something I'd ever
consciously plan to do.  But as Daddy placed his lips on my forehead, I 
grasped him by the ears and pulled his head down to where I was able to kiss
him passionately on the mouth.  It was a short kiss because Daddy jerked back
when he realized what was happening.  But in the second or two that our mouths
were joined, I slipped my hot tongue between his teeth where it joined with
his tongue that was equally hot, if not hotter.
     "Don't ever do that again, Melanie," was all Daddy said in a shaken voice
as he left the room.
     After the foregoing frustration, I laid off Daddy sexually for two whole
years.  Meanwhile, I denied myself other boys and men.  I never consciously 
articulated to myself that I was saving my virginity for Daddy, but in fact
that's what I was doing.
     To say I was saving my virginity for Daddy doesn't mean I didn't pet with
boys from time to time as a break in the monotony of my masturbation routine.
I remember the time a neighbor boy named Henry Perkins took me to a drive-in
movie over in Leawook.  Having just gotten his driver's license, it was his
first time to operate an automobile legally.  He was touchingly proud and
careful at the wheel of his father's Buick as we drove to the movie.  A nice
boy, Henry was.  Because of his niceness and my horniness, I decided to stage
a first-time event on my own.  I decided to suck his cock.
     We got to the drive-in.  The movie was a horror show whose title, stars 
and story I've long since forgotten.  Henry and I fell to necking in the front 
seat of the Buick.  We progressed through the customary steps of petting.
Plain kissing.  Open-mouthed kissing.  His hands on my covered breasts,
followed by ditto on my bared boobies.  Finally, and usually the end of the
line for me, his hand on my covered vagina.  But it wasn't the end of the
line.  As Henry kneaded my pussy lips through my panties, I blew his mind
by unzippering his fly and pulling out his erection.  Since it was the first
penis I'd ever held in my hand, I examined it curiously in the dim light.
Then, to the tune of Henry's whimper of pleasure, I went down on him.  I 
sucked and nibbled and bobbed my head, maybe not very expertly, but very
much to the gratification of my partner, who, because of his youth, had
no basis for comparing cocksuckers.
     Henry came quickly.  Whereas I'd been apprehensive about how semen might
taste, my fears proved unfounded.  Male come turned out to be a bland-tasting
substance that I swallowed down easily.
     The sex experience with Henry was one of the few that I shared with boys
during my sophomore and junior years of high school.  As I said, I didn't go
all the way with anyone.  Mostly, I masturbated to fantasies of getting it on
with dear old Daddy.
     It finally happened the summer before graduation when Daddy had to fly
to New York City to attend a convention of restauranteurs, he invited me to go
along.  It was my first visit to New York and I fell in love with the Big
Apple.  Daddy spared no expense in squiring me around to such restaurants
as Sardi's, Four Seasons, and Top of the Sixes.  We saw Broadway shows like
Annie, Evita, and Best Little Whorehouse in Texas.  I was having the time of
my life.
     On our last evening in New York, Daddy and I enjoyed dinner and a floor 
show at the Village Gate in Greenwich Village.  On the cab ride back to the
hotel, I knew from the extra jolly way he was jabbering that my father was
high on the Jack Daniels on the rocks he'd been drinking all night.  A naughty
notion crept into my mind (not to mention up my loins) that this might be the
time and place to make another attempt to seduce Daddy.
     At the hotel, Daddy and I said good night to each other in the hall 
before retiring to our separate rooms.  The rooms were separate, that is, but
adjoining.  There was a connection door which neither of us ever locked.
     I undressed and waited, getting more and more excited with fantasies of
the consummation that I hoped was finally about to happen.  Periodically,
I pressed an ear to Daddy's door, waiting for the sound of his snoring.  At
last, I heard it.  I switched off my lamp.
     Stealthily, I turned the knob to open the door to Daddy's room.  I was
completely naked.  As I crept toward his bed, the only light in the room came
from a neon light that flashed on and off overlooking Times Square, half a
block away.  The silence, except for Daddy's snoring, was deafening.
     Slowly, very carefully, I lifted the bed covers.  Daddy, too, was naked.
I slipped under the covers beside him.
     The next move-touching Daddy-would be the trickiest.  If I woke him 
before I was able to get him sexually turned on, there was every likelihood
he'd kick my incestuous little butt not only out of the room and down the 
stairs, but around the block as well.  I decided my best tactic would be to
go directly to the heart of the matter, by which I meant to lay hands not on
Daddy's heart but on his genitals.
     Daddy lay on his back, I on my side facing him.  Ever so gingerly, I 
slid my hand toward him until I made contact with his hip.  From there, I 
slid the hand quickly to his crotch where I seized his cock and balls in a 
gentle grasp.  That was all.  No Squeezing yet.  I just held him in my hand.
     Daddy's snoring faltered momentarily at my touch.  He snorted and 
swallowed a couple of times before reverting to the steady cadence of snores
he'd been emitting before.
     I thrilled to the feel of the virile male organ I held in my hand.  My
Daddy's cock.  Even flaccid, it was a big one.  I'd always known it would be.
But, even more than big, it was somehow more manly than the adolescent penises
I had seen, touched, or, in Henry Perkins' case, sucked.  Oh, how I wanted 
this lovely prick inside me!
     What was happening?  Was Daddy getting hard?  Yes!  Slowly but surely,
the meaty shaft I held between my thumb and forefinger was swelling larger.
It was time to help the erecting process along.  Very gently, I began milking
his awakening organ.  The tempo of Daddy's snoring quickened a beat as I did
so.
     Daddy began talking in his sleep.  "Mmmm, Jennifer.  Feels good, so good,
Jennifer," he murmured.
     Jennifer?  That wasn't my mother's name.  Why, that rascal.  Had he taken
a lover on the side while he was married to Mom?  Just for that, I was going 
to have to punish him.  The punishment I devised?  What else, in my horny 
state?  I decided to sit on his cock.
     I guided the head of Daddy's erection into contact with the rose petal 
lips of my vagina.  I was so hot, I was dripping wet down there.  We'd have
no problem with insufficient lubrication.  Taking a deep breath, I plunged,
swallowing up all of my father's cock with my cunt in one dizzying stroke.
As we plummeted to the most intimate union a man and woman can share, an
involuntary cry of pleasure/pain escaped my lips.  Daddy's simultaneous
groan was all pleasure, no pain.
     I commenced fucking him up and down, up and down.  Having a penis inside
me for the first time in my life- my father's penis, no less- was a more
wondrous sensation than any I'd ever known.
     Daddy began to participate in our fuck.  Even though his eyes remained 
closed in the flickering light, he seized my buttocks in powerful hands.
Arching his pelvis, he began meeting my thrust with thrust of his own.  As
I had yearned for and dreamed about for years, my Daddy was fucking me!
     "Oh, Jennifer, Jennifer," he murmured as his eyes fluttered open.  Then,
"Oh...my God! MELANIE!"
     Recognizing me, Daddy tried to pull out and push me off.  I was ready for
that.  Clutching him tightly around his neck with my arms, and around his legs
with my legs, I pleaded in his ear, "Wait, Daddy, think a minute.  It's too
late not to commit incest.  We're already doing it.  Think, Daddy.  It 
feels good, doesn't it?"
     His voice was choked.  "Melanie, you're strangling me ... Yes, dammit,
it feels good.  And yes, dammit, I've wanted to fuck you for years.  But, 
Angel Baby, what is this going to do to you?  Won't it scar you emotionally?
     He couldn't see it with our cheeks pressed together, but I had to smile
at Daddy's old-fashioned ideas.  Scar me emotionally?  How could that be when
I was literally having the best time of my life?  "No Daddy, it won't scar
me,"  I said in his ear.  "I just wanted to love you in the way because I love
you every other way.  What can be unnatural about that?"
     "God, Maybe you're right," Daddy allowed, swayed no doubt by the mutually
thrilling way I'd resumed my pumping on his hard penis.  "I'm more mixed up 
than any teenager right now, but yes Melanie, it's good, very good."
     With that, Daddy and I proceeded to share a profoundly wonderful sexual
experience.  Our incestuous love affair continued for more that a year until
we parted when I went away to college last September.  The only reason we 
haven't continued to get it on sexually when I go home for vacations is that
I've found a steady boyfriend here a Northwestern, and Daddy has become
involved with a woman back in Kansas City.  Neither of us feels we were hurt
in any way by our incestuous affair.  Far from it.  We feel we're decent
people who added a meaningful new dimension to our relationship.  We feel
it's something that could happen to any father and daughter, mother and son
or brother and sister if they'd let it. 

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