Father and daughter come together and cum together
Megan O’Malley was one happy girl as she rode her school bus home. Friday, the final school day of the week and the Winter break has begun. No school again for two weeks.
Even the day was perfect; unseasonably warm for December the temperature was in the low seventies with bright sunshine as her ride started.
Megan’s was the last stop on the route, as they neared her home an abrupt change in the weather occurred. Through the window she watched, as the sky became a kaleidoscope of colors; first the sickly green that is often a precursor of a tornado then, as though pulled up by the Hand of God the clouds swept to the top of the heavens, turning magenta and as they climbed higher, the purple of a bruise and finally fearsome black before being stabbed by forks of lightning. With a clash of booming thunder the sky opened to a downpour of Biblical proportions. Megan jumped back from the window; a streak of lightning struck so near that she was momentarily blinded by the flash.
The driver had turned her headlights on, when she arrived usually Megan jumped off at the end of her driveway but today the driver wheeled into the circular approach and dropped Megan near the front door.
“Thank you Mrs. Hobart,” Megan said as she debarked into the maelstrom. Grabbing the mail from the mailbox Megan sprinted to the door. In spite of Mrs. Hobart’s kindness Meg was soaked to the skin by the time she’d unlocked and gotten into the house.
Her teeth were chattering from chill, she dropped the mail on the cocktail table and ran up the stairs to her bedroom, stripped and jumped in a hot shower. Once she’d warmed she dried herself, hung her wet clothes over the shower rod and got dressed. Shorts, T-shirt and panties, she skipped a bra and descended the stairs barefooted.
She decided to watch a little television but in the living room she noticed the mail on the table, she needed to put it in her Daddy’s office on his desk. She picked it up; there was the usual junk mail and one manila envelope.
Fearfully she turned it over, Oh no; it was from her school, her report card for the grading period. Her stomach clenched and she nearly lost control of her bladder. Her grades would not be good and, even worse, the truth would out, she’d lied to her Daddy, his one unforgivable transgression. Slowly she walked to his office and deposited it on his desk.
She loved her Daddy with all her heart. Her Mom had died when Megan was only two, a victim of cervical cancer. Her Daddy, Liam O’Malley had raised her alone as a single parent with all the trials and tribulations of both a father and mother; he’d always been there for her. From colicky infant to the little girl with stomach trouble and two years ago dealing with a frightened ten year old girl’s first period, he’d taken on the challenges usually reserved for a mother.
Then the most embarrassing experience for both Meg and her Daddy.
When her periods became irregular and spotty with severe cramping he’d changed her from her pediatrician to a gynecologist; Fiona, Megan’s mother was killed by cervical cancer; Liam took female problems very seriously.
God, she well remembered her first visit, Daddy had sought out a female physician feeling that Megan would be more comfortable, not that it had made much difference, Meg had been scared.
The doctor had explained to Liam that a full examination including a pelvic examination would be needed; with the familial history of cancer and the bowel problems Megan was prone to, it was more than just a precaution. He insisted on being present when it was done; he almost wished he hadn’t.
First the doctor checked ears, nose and throat then listened with her stethoscope back and front before conducting a breast exam on twelve-year-old Megan’s small breasts. So far, nothing terrible, Meg thought. The doctor had lowered the top of Megan’s gown for the exam, now she instructed her to lie down on the table. She guided Meg’s feet into the stirrups and asked her to scoot down so her bottom was at the end of the table; then took the gown and draped a sheet over her abdomen and lower body.
“Megan, I want you to let your legs fall apart,” the doctor instructed.
After a visual exam of labia, vulva and anus she proceeded. Talking her way through for both Megan and Liam’s benefit she explained, “I’m going to insert a small speculum, you may feel a slight discomfort.
She warmed the plastic speculum under hot water, inserted it and clicked it in the locked position. After a visual inspection of the cervix she took a pap smear and withdrew the device.
“Next I’m going to perform an internal examination, I’ll insert two fingers into your vagina so I may check your internal organs.” She snapped on a vinyl glove, lubricated two fingers and entered her, checking the position, shape and texture of the cervix before feeling her uterus and finally, with pressure applied to her abdomen with her outside hand, she checked the ovaries.
“Good news, everything seems to be fine. But I’m going to do one more exam. I don’t usually recommend it until a woman reaches forty; it’s a rectal exam. With your history of bowel problems I want to check for obstructions or lesions.”
She put on a fresh glove and lubricated her index finger before inserting it in Megan’s anus and probed, checking the walls of the rectum. She withdrew, handed Meg a box of tissues and told her she could get dressed.
Mr. O’Malley, when Megan’s dressed I’ll meet you two in my office.
The doctor told them that she had not identified any problems and that she’d phone when the results of the Pap smear came in. Then she said, “In light of your menstrual problems I’m going to prescribe a low estrogen birth control pill to regulate your periods.”
They scheduled a follow-up appointment for three months hence, stopped at a CVS pharmacy to fill the prescription and drove home.
That was the last time he’d seen her without her panties but she was terrified that he’d see her again tonight, she’d lied to her Daddy and for that her Daddy spanked. She hadn’t felt his hand since she was eleven; maybe he thought that nearly fourteen was too old for corporal punishment, at least she hoped.
She looked at the time; he’d be home in less than an hour. She dashed into the kitchen; she’d have supper waiting.
Spaghetti with a meat sauce, garlic toast and a tossed salad were nearly done when Liam walked in from the garage.
“Hi Sweetheart,” he said as he kissed her on top of her head.
“Something smells good, what are you up to?” He asked.
“Spaghetti for dinner; I just wanted to treat my Daddy nice.”
Liam went upstairs and changed from his suit to gym shorts, T-shirt and flip-flops, back downstairs Megan met him with a glass; three fingers of John Jamison’s finest Irish whiskey as she said, “Why don’t you relax for a few minutes while I finish.”
“Diner’s ready Daddy,” Megan called out a few minutes later.
The table was set and the food was already plated when Liam sat down; she’d even poured a glass of Chianti for him. He was hungry and the food was tasty, he was half way through his plate before he noticed that Megan was only toying with her food, chasing it around her plate but not partaking.
“What’s the matter Sweetheart?” he asked.
In a play for sympathy Megan had decided to fake illness.
“My tummy hurts and I feel nauseous and I feel sick, “ Oooooh, I hurt,” she moaned, “My tummy hurts.”
“Cramping or an ache?”
“Both Daddy, a sharp pain sometimes then a dull ache before another sharp pain, Oooooh
“How about you go up and get into your nightie and lie down, I’ll clean up down here then come up to see you, OK?”
Cleaning up was her job so she said, “Thank you Daddy,” as she bent over and, holding her belly moaned.
He sat at the table and contemplated the evening; something was amiss. Meg was a sweet girl but she didn’t cater to him, having dinner ready then the Jamison’s were out of character. Yes, Meg was a sweet girl but she was a teenager, it usually took prodding and reminders to get her to move. Now the stomach problems; Liam was certain they were feigned, the pain seemly exacerbated, the ache exaggerated, the histrionics, to a father unconvincing; why?
He rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher then, taking a second glass of wine went to his office to review the mail.
He checked e-mail first, answering a couple of friends, reading and forwarding a few jokes then turned to the print stuff. He tossed away the junk mail then opened the manila envelope. And here lay the answer, she’d brought in the mail and she knew what this envelope contained; to her it must have been as though her world was going to end.
Megan was a cheerleader for the freshman football team; she played girls’ soccer and was looking forward to softball season; after the last report card Liam had told her that, if there were no improvement in her grades, the extracurricular activities would be cut out.
And, yes, they had fallen but that was hardly the most distressing thing Liam learned. Each and every teacher, in their notes, had indicated that the major reason for the low grade was failure to complete homework assignments. Each and every night, just before giving Meg a hug and kiss and wishing her a good night he asked, is your homework done? Without fail her answer was “Yes Daddy,” now those statements were unmasked as untruths.
He wondered what she was thinking, upstairs in her room: did she think, I’ve put one over on the old fool? Was that how she thought of him? He sat and sipped his wine, contemplating how he should handle this. There were really two issues, her faux illness and her untruths. Two problems requiring two solutions, he sat and thought.
The second was easy, she was untruthful, he spanked for lying, ergo, a spanking was forthcoming but the for the second a more diabolical solution formed in his mind.
What is the worst thing a teenaged girl could experience, even worse that the forthcoming spanking? Embarrassment, and embarrass her he would.
Liam quietly climbed the stairs, Meg’s door was slightly ajar, he could see her bouncing to the music from her Ipod, he continued on to his room. Liam got out equipment that hadn’t been employed in years. Fiona, his deceased wife had liked her enemas. At least once a week she wanted her bowels flooded, he gave them to her and he’d enjoyed administering them. He still had her equipment. He put a rubber sheet over his bed and covered it with a large towel then filled the two quart bag, added two packets of Castille soap and hung it from his hat rack checking that everything was ready then he got the rest of his tools. He wouldn’t need tissues, there was a box on Megan’s bedside table; he slid the rectal thermometer he’d used when she was a youngster into his shirt pocket and palmed a small jar of Vaseline before walking back to her room.
“Feeling any better Sweetheart?” he asked as he entered.
He’d startled her; she fell back onto the bed, pulling the buds out of her ears as she moaned, “No Daddy, I still hurt.”
“I was afraid of that,” he said as he sat on her bedside, “I think we need to find out what the problem is, you haven’t had these troubles in nearly three years.”
Over the years Liam had probably given Megan hundreds of enemas, pumping her little bottom full with a little red bulb. The last time was when she was eleven, but if she was relapsing he was prepared to help.
“Lie back,” he said. She did and he pressed on her abdomen. He was aware that she’d tried to tighten her muscles, creating the illusion that she had soreness.
“You feel a little tight, let’s see if we can find the problem,” he said, “Come over my lap.”
“Daddy, I’m nearly fourteen, you can’t do that,” she pleaded.
“I can’t do what Megan, help my little girl when she’s in distress?” Then, sternly he added, “Climb over my lap.”
Slowly, reluctantly, Meg turned the sheet back and positioned herself over her Daddy’s thick thighs. She was in her sleepwear, a cut-off top that exposed her flat belly and her panties. When she was positioned her Daddy lowered her panties to her knees, exposing her bottom.
“I want to get your temperature before we try anything else,” he said as he swiped a daub of Vaseline onto her anus. He inserted the thermometer, twisting it in.
“Relax, it only takes three minutes,” he told her.
Megan was almost in tears, she was being treated like a little girl and she was almost fourteen, almost a woman, what had she done, it would have been better to face the music about the report card than to endure this humiliation. He withdrew the glass tube from her, she started to climb off his lap but his powerful hand held her in place.
He checked the reading, 98.7 degrees, no problem.
“Your temperature is normal so I don’t think you have an infection, maybe there’s some blockage, let’s check,” he said as he dipped his index finger into the jar of lubricant.
Megan gave a slight moan as he inserted his digit into her rectum, feeling the soft wrinkled surface, he couldn’t resist, he pumped in and out several times as Megan continued moaning. Pulling out he said, “No, I don’t feel anything but it may be higher.”
He pulled her panties back up, helped to her feet and, taking her hand led her to his room.
As they walked in Megan experienced a twinge of fear, over the years she’d had hundreds of enemas; from before she could remember until she was eleven her bowels had needed assistance but always it had been administered across her Daddy’s lap with a small red bulb, what she saw here was intimidating, a huge bag bulging like a pregnant woman’s belly, tubes, and a nozzle that was at least six inches long.
“Take off your panties and climb onto the towel, I want you on your right side.”
“Sweetheart, don’t embarrass yourself, if you won’t get into position I’ll have to help you.”
Slowly she rolled her panties down and crawled onto the bed.
Her Daddy told her, “I know you’ve had a lot of enemas when you were a little girl but you’re not a little girl any more. This is how an adult gets them. I want you to know what to expect. The bag is two quarts and you’re going to take it all then you’ll retain it for five minutes so it can wash you out. No doubt you’ll experience cramping, if you do, tell me, I’ll slow or stop the flow and try to help you but then the flow will resume until you’ve accepted the entire two quarts. This solution contains a mild soap to cleanse you, afterwards we’ll use another two quarts of clear water to rinse you, ready?”
She was trembling in fear and anticipation but she nodded yes.
He lifted her right leg toward her chest, getting her into the classic Sims position and slipped the nozzle into her then opened the clamp and let the water flow. The bag was hung low, the flow was slow, he didn’t want to hurt her.
Megan was surprised; she enjoyed the feelings, the warm water filling her, the stretching of her bowels, even the slight cramping she was beginning to experience. She closed her eyes, smiled and enjoyed until a severe cramp struck.
“No more Daddy, I’m full,” she cried out.
He stopped the flow but told her, “No, you’re not near done, there’s still more than half a bag for you.” As she seemed to relax a little he opened the clamp.
As the water flowed into her he watched her belly distend, first a little hump then growing on the bed beside her, she was distended, appearing to be in her ninth month when next she cried out.
“Daddy, please, please, no more.”
He stopped the flow, there was less than a pint left, he massaged her swollen belly, working the water upward deep into her sigmoid, ascending, transverse and descending colons, filling her completely then he opened the clamp draining the last of the water into her.
She lay on her side cramped and aching. She felt like she was going to burst and tried to get up, her Daddy pinned her down saying, “Hold it for five minutes.”
Five minutes, five hours, five days, hell, five decades, what was the difference; Megan knew she was going to burst but then her Daddy helped her to her feet and led her to the bathroom. He positioned her on the toilet and left, closing the door, giving her her privacy.
It took about twenty minutes for Megan to evacuate, water had been forced so deeply into her that she had to allow everything to flow out, she came out into the bedroom, her Daddy was sitting on the bed waiting for her.
He’d refilled the bag with two quarts of clear water; it was waiting when she shuffled out.
“Feeling better, “ he asked.
“Oh Daddy,” was all she could say, then she noticed again the swollen bag, remembering he’d mentioned the need for a rinse.
“Sweetheart I’m sorry but the soap is an irritant, if we don’t rinse you out you’ll suffer, please, get up on the bed. For this I want you on your hands and knees.
She crawled forward; he positioned her so he could stand behind her directing the flow then relubricated her, pushed down on the small of her back forcing her to raise her bottom and twisted the tube into her.
For whatever the reason, up to this moment he had only been disciplining his daughter. Megan was and had always been precious to him, he’d adored her but he’d never sexualized her, in a New York minute that changed. From his viewpoint, her nightie top gaped, she was braless and he could see her fine young breasts. More than that, her genitalia, all of her precious womanhood was open to his inspection. He turned away, this was his daughter but her fragrance, her feminine aroma filled his nostrils.
“Daddy, please stop,” Meg pleaded.
Her belly was distended, hanging like a bag in front of her; Liam stopped the flow and massaged her tummy.
“I’ll try to help,” he encouraged her as he continued to massage her belly.
When he felt her relax he started the flow again though, this time he tried to keep her relaxed, massaging the distention that hung below and then caressed her bottom as she accepted the last of the water.
“Done Sweetheart,” he told her as he led her to the toilet. This time he didn’t leave her, it was only going to be water, he held her hand as he heard her expel, she looked like she was absolutely whipped, he folded tissue into a pad, wiped her and, pulling her to her feet said,
“Why don’t you go ahead to bed, I want you feeling better, I really don’t want to have to do this again tomorrow,” he said / threatened.
He walked her back to her room then went back downstairs, he knew that she knew that she hadn’t fooled him, that she had paid a price for her deception but she didn’t know what awaited her, she’d paid for her pseudo illness but she still was responsible for her untruths.
Liam went back downstairs and opened a Guinness; took it to the table by the window and enjoyed Nature’s Wonderment, the storm was still raging, lighting flared igniting the sky with a white-hot glare, thunder crashed and hail stones cracked against his tin roof.
As he sipped his stout Liam contemplated, should he finish with his plan for his little Sweetheart or had he done enough?
He rethought, had she come home and confessed to being pregnant what would he do? He’d comfort her and deal with it as SHE chose, abortion or delivery, had he found she was on drugs, he’d get her into rehab, in other words, he would do anything to protect his daughter.
She’d been his life for the past twelve years. The loss of Fiona had been devastating; he’d found his life mate. Both he and Fiona were second generation Irish, she an auburn haired beauty while he was dark, no doubt the spawn of a survivor of the debacle that was the Spanish Armada so, how had they created Megan. Their child could have been the map of Ireland. With a complexion white as the finest porcelain sprayed by light freckles, glistening eyes greener than the Emerald Isle itself and flame red hair, she screamed “Irish Lass,” yet, she’d broken his one rule, she’d lied to him.
He trudged up the stairs.
“Are you feeling any better?” He asked as he entered her room.
Megan wasn’t sure how to answer, No, she might get further treatments, Yes, she might have to deal with her transgressions; she opted for, “Yes Daddy, thank you for caring for me.”
“I’m afraid we have one more item to deal with, don’t we?”
“What do you mean Daddy?” Megan fearfully breathed out.
“Do I have to explain or do you already know; Sweetheart, you lied to me, didn’t you?”
Megan buried her head into her pillow in shame before whispering, “Yes Daddy.”
Neither of them questioned what was about to happen, Liam took her hand and helped her rise, unyielding, Megan stood in front of him.
“Sweetheart, please never cause this to happen again, I can countenance nearly anything you might do but I cannot accept untruthfulness and you know that.”
“I’m sorry Daddy,” she said.
“Take your panties off Megan and get across my lap please.”
“Please don’t Daddy, I won’t do it again.”
“Daddy, I’m a high school girl now, I’m almost fourteen. I’m too old to be spanked.”
“Megan as long as you live under my roof, I don’t care if you’re thirty, you need to abide by my rules.”
Even as she lowered her panties she continued to plead with him.
He couldn’t help but notice. She was breathing hard, swelling her bosom with each breath, her tummy was flat, her pubic hair was a fiery tangle of crimson and her hips were flaring in preparation of her childbearing years. She was becoming a young woman; nevertheless, she was going to be spanked.
Finally she accepted the inevitable, she crawled over his lap.
He jiggled her into position, elevating her bottom and said,
Crack, his hand striking soft flesh, she jerked forward, crack she wailed as he struck her again, crack her lightly freckled alabaster bottom was beginning to take on a pink shade, crack and then something happened to Megan, her tummy roiled, in her lower belly she felt cramps like when they first started with her enema, nice pain that she could feel lower, cramping her organs, her uterus clutching, her vagina clamping; she couldn’t help herself, she ground her pelvis against her Daddy, he was wearing thin gym shorts, she pressed down against him then thrust her bottom up, meeting his hand as she again felt, crack, oh, it stung, she pumped against him, she raised her bottom, crack, once more as she continued to grind.
Many more whacks to come, many more whacks deserved but they didn’t rain down on her. She couldn’t stop; she continued to grind into her Daddy’s groin as she pumped her hips, raising her bottom, hoping that he’d continue with her spanking. Instead he pushed down on the small of her back, pinning her in his lap and massaged her bottom, one more thrust of her hips, grinding against Daddy’s shorts and she was sure she’d wet herself, she could feel the hot wetness between her legs. She limply collapsed lying across her Daddy’s lap, ashamed that she’d peed on him.
Her legs splayed as she went limp, Liam could see her moisture, she’d experienced her first orgasm. Her grinding into his lap had aroused him and here she was for the taking, he helped her back to her feet.
“Put your panties back on, I think that’s enough for one night,” he told her.
She fled the room, panties in hand.
God damned he thought, the first time, the very first time he’d seen Megan as a woman, sexualizing her, making her desirable. Hell, she was desirable, flaming red hair top and bottom, emerald eyes glistening at him through her spectacular smile and now she was acquiring the attributes of womanhood, firm breasts, her hips flaring to become perfect for child bearing and a spreading bottom, widening and inviting. As she’d laid limply her legs had splayed, he’d seen her wetness.
No, get your mind elsewhere he thought; she was his thirteen-year-old daughter.
He hadn’t had a steady lover since Fiona’s death but he did visit a lady of the night about once every three months just to keep the horn dog at bay; he needed to see her tomorrow.
Outside the storm continued to rage, hail stones were hammering the tin roof as Liam lay in his bed, he couldn’t accept what he’d felt when his daughter was on his lap, it scared him, he’d found her desirable, sexy. He couldn’t climb into Morpheus’ arms, tossing and turning he fought the stirrings he’d felt.
When Megan had fled the room, panties in hand, she’d run to her room and gotten in bed. Confusion reigned, she felt like she’d done something bad but couldn’t understand what or how. When her Daddy had spanked her she should have been crying; she hadn’t, instead she had felt really strong even demanding feelings in her tummy and on down, feelings that had made her grind against her Daddy. Even when he’d stopped spanking her body refused to quit, it wasn’t until it felt like she’d wet herself that she was able to stop.
The nice feelings had started while she was getting her second enema, her Daddy’s hand on her belly and her bottom, rubbing her, she’d even liked the cramping but it was during her spanking that her tummy twisted into an uncontrollable urge.
She tried to sleep but couldn’t, strange thoughts haunted her and the weather didn’t help. The lightning was so bright it lit her room with it’s white-hot light and the thunder was like booming bombs. After an hour she sat up and pulled her panties back on, she had to apologize to her Daddy. She walked to his room.
Liam felt a weight on his mattress and heard, “Daddy are you awake?”
“Yes Sweetheart,” he answered.
Megan burrowed under the covers and buried her face in his chest.
“Daddy I’m so sorry.”
“Meg I know you won’t tell me untruths again, you’re a good daughter and you’ll do what’s the right thing.”
Still talking to his chest she said, “Not just that Daddy, something happened to me. When I was on my knees getting my enema I started getting strange nice feelings in my tummy but when you spanked me I wanted you to keep spanking, it gave me strange wonderful feelings. My tummy was flip flopping and down below, in my abdomen it was like I was being tied in knots then I squirted a little bit of pee and felt all squishy between my legs. What happened to me?”
Liam knew, he just couldn’t figure out how or if he should discuss it with his thirteen year old daughter then he reconsidered, the spanking had been over the issue of truthfulness, he began,
“Sweetheart what you felt was sexual arousal. I don’t know why an enema can be arousing but it was to your mother and maybe you inherited that desire. What you squirted wasn’t pee and the clenching you felt in your abdomen was your uterus and vagina contracting from an orgasm, the squirt was liquid expelled by your vagina as it contracted. Any questions?”
“Un huh, will you give me an enema and spank me again?”
He almost laughed as he answered, “We’ll see.”
“Can you rub my back for me?” She asked.
He slid his hand under her nightie, massaged her shoulders then rubbed, relaxing her.
“Do my bottom, too, please.”
He cupped her cheeks through her panties, caressing and kneading them. She was taut, tense, even Meg had to know they were venturing into dangerous territory, still he rubbed her until she said, “Thank you Daddy,” snuggled against him and slept.
He had a raging hard-on; he really was going to have to visit his lady of the evening the next day. But as his erection subsided he realized how truly nice it felt to have a warm female body sharing his bed. Finally his mind cleared enough that he was able to drift off.
Breakfast the next morning was a tense affair, like there was a wall between them. They had always been exceptionally close; neither was comfortable with what was obviously a changed relationship yet neither knew how to confront the change. They hadn’t even shared the ritual of a morning hug and kiss.
Liam was staring at Megan in profile when she turned her head toward him. Her emerald eyes looked so very sad; they glistened with tears then she walked to him, sat in his lap and asked, “We’re going to be OK, aren’t we?”
“It’s you and me Sweetheart, we’re gonna be OK.”
Megan turned her head away, embarrassed by what she was about to say.
“Daddy I want to do that again, does that make me bad?”
“No Meg, that doesn’t make you bad, that makes you human. The sex drive is one of the most powerful forces in nature, which, I suppose is good. It drives the urge to procreate, to sustain our species.”
“Is that what I want to do, procreate?”
“I think right now what you want is to experiment, to learn how to handle the changes taking place. You’re growing from a little girl to a beautiful and desirable young woman.”
“Do you really think I’m beautiful and desirable?”
“Absolutely, now let’s clean up the dishes, I want to go out and check to see if the storm last night did any damage.”
With the missing hug and kiss Meg jumped up and got to work.
The rest of the day went by uneventfully, the tension of the morning had eased.
Around four Liam changed clothes and told Megan that he was going out; he’d be home by six. He suggested that dinner be take-out that he’d pick up on the way home and asked what she’d like.
“McDonalds just brought back their McRib sandwich, I want a McRib and fries.”
“McRibs and fries it is, I’ll see you at six,” he said as he left.
Liam drove into town then cruised through a seedy area he knew until he saw her. One hour and one hundred dollars later, his ashes hauled, he stopped at Burdines Department Store and, from the young ladies section selected an ivory pant suit and beige shell top, he paid and left then he stopped at Mickey D’s then headed home.
Megan picked it up immediately, “You smell like perfume,” she told him.
Liam blushed as he lamely answered, “Must be from when I walked by the cosmetics counter at Burdines.”
She let him slide, put the sandwiches and fries on plates and brought catsup, a Coke for herself and a Bass Ale for him to the table, they feasted.
After they’d eaten Liam asked, “Day after tomorrow is your birthday, would you like to go out to some fancy place for dinner?”
“Can we, can we really, oh my, what can I wear, yes I want to go.”
“How about Le Coq a Vin, it’s a nice French restaurant.”
“Heavenly Daddy, just heavenly but what should I wear?”
“I don’t know, let me think,” he said as he got up from the table and walked to the garage.
Back inside he handed her a box, “I thought an ivory colored pant suit and a beige shell with your bone shoes. You can wear your mother’s gold necklace and earrings, would that work for you.”
Opening the box she pulled out the clothing, “Thank you Daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Her birthday dinner was perfect, she was beautiful in her new outfit, the food was memorable but the highlight for Meg was when I ordered a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon with our meal, the waiter filled her glass, she was walking on air as we drove home.
“Oh Daddy, tonight was the absolute, elegant; I love you Daddy, love you,” as she scooted aver against me and rested her head on my shoulder.
At home we changed into less formal clothes, read shorts and T-shirt for me and shorty pajamas for Meg.
I picked up her gift while I was changing; when she came down I called her over and gave her her present.
She tore the gift wrap off the box and screamed in delight, she had an Iphone 4S, Apple’s brand new offering.
Her eyes were glistening with tears of joy and she leapt up and jumped into my lap, giving me a wet kiss right on the lips.
I gave her a hug, “Happy?” I asked.
“Ecstatic,” she beamed.
Suddenly her eyes seemed to lose focus, her bottom was wiggling in my lap, she pressed against me then slowly rose and stood, “I need to potty,” she said as she walked up the stairs.
Meg knew where her Daddy kept the equipment and she was craving relief, she set up his room then went back down.
She took my hand asking me to go with her; I followed her up the staircase. At the top she again took my hand and led me to my bedroom.
I looked at my equipment, the bed prepared, the bag bulging, then I looked at her.
“Please Daddy,” she begged.
My newly minted fourteen year old wanted her enema and, truth be told I wanted to give it to her.
With a whimsical smile I nodded my assent.
Meg rolled her bottoms down and scrambled up on hands and knees.
I took a moment to look the equipment over and decided to make one change. The tube had the enema tip on it; I took it off and replaced it with the douche nozzle; Fiona had always preferred it, I thought Megan might be the same.
Her bottom was virtually twitching when I approached her from behind. Although I’d used Vaseline before and that’s what Meg had set out I retrieved the KY Jelly from my medicine cabinet.
I inserted my lubricated finger into her, coating her internally then greased the tip and twisted it into her.
She gave a little moan as I opened the clamp and let the water flow. I caressed her bottom as she filled.
She’d accepted about half the bag when she whimpered, I knew the cramping had started; I massaged her tummy, she was starting to swell.
Under my gentle caressing touch she began to mewl. She was becoming aroused, from behind I could see that she was lubricating, her labia were gleaming with her moisture.
There was something I used to do for Fiona, I was sure Meg would like it too, but, if I did I would have crossed the line, I hesitated then thought; what the hell, just giving her an enema for her sexual gratification rather than for clinical purposes was already across said line. I reached forward, let my fingers glide up her slickened vulva and found her clitoris. Taking her little bud between forefinger and thumb I masturbated her as the water continued to flow.
When I first touched her she bucked a little but then her body quivered as she had her first release. The bag had emptied, I pulled out the tube but Meg stayed on hands and knees. Her belly hung almost to the mattress she was so distended by the water, her bottom broad and inviting, her vulva dripping with her orgasmic fluids as I placed my thumb against her rosebud and continued rubbing between her legs.
Like she was caught in earthquake Megan began trembling, I could see and feel her anus pulsing as contractions wracked her young body, she cried out, “Oooooh,” as she fell to the bed on her side. I continued my attention to her clit as her juices flowed over my hand.
When she was able to regain control I helped her up and to the bathroom, leaving her there while I put away my equipment; I kept the nozzle out, as it needed to be washed.
When Meg returned the bedroom she looked bedazzled, a dazed look on her face.
“Daddy,” she asked, “What did you do to me?”
“Why, did I hurt you?” I asked.
“Noooooo, you didn’t hurt me. I don’t know what you did, it felt like I was caught in a whirlwind and then the sensations, wild, wonderful things just flowing through my body, I could feel it in my breasts then my tummy and on down to my uterus and vagina. It was like electricity, powerful and shocking; no, you didn’t hurt me but you gave me feelings that I couldn’t have imagined.”
I just smiled at her, saying, “Put your panties on and let’s go to bed.”
“Do I have to, I don’t want to.”
“Why, aren’t you tired?”
“Yes, I’m tired, it’s not that, I don’t want to put my panties on,” and giving me a moue she crawled between my sheets.
I seemed to have acquired a bed partner, I climbed in beside her still wearing my gym shorts and T-shirt her in only her pajama top; she snuggled against me.
“Daddy will you rub me some more,” she asked.
I thought, what the hell, in for a penny, in for a pound. I rolled her onto her side with her back to me, spooning, then reached over her hip and toyed with her clit until she gave a little quiver and relaxed in my arms. She was asleep in moments. It took me longer, my erection needed to shrink and I had to work some things out in my mind. There was no question I’d crossed that line and there was no question that sex would be the next step.
We got up the next morning, had breakfast then erected our Christmas tree; it was the twenty-third of December, only two days ‘til Christmas. We lazed the rest of the day away.
On Christmas Eve we dressed and went out for a brunch, we planned an early dinner then, as was our tradition we’d open our gifts before listening to Christmas music and sipping on some of my special eggnog.
We owned a cabin in the mountains about a two-hour drive from our house, it was on a lake where we could swim and fish in the summer but, in the winter it was lovely to walk in the woods. We would often see wildlife, rabbits, deer and the occasional black bear. At brunch Meg told me she’d like to go up tomorrow. I agreed, we could go up for three days; we’d leave around noon on Christmas day.
It was at 8:00 in the evening when we settled in before the tree to open our gifts. Meg handed me mine. I opened it to find a pajama set and a robe; the PJ’s were black with gold trim, the robe also black with gold piping on the sleeves and a gold crest on the left breast. I thought they were a handsome set and told Megan so.
“Go change into them, I want you to model them for me,” she enthused.
Given no choice, I went upstairs and changed.
Coming back down the stairs I joked, “I feel like a Viet Cong in black pajamas.”
I took off the robe letting her see all of the pajamas; I laid the robe on the sofa and spun in a circle.
Megan laughed at me, “No you look like a handsome Black Irishman, come drink some eggnog with me.”
She’d poured each of us a glass while I was upstairs and she’d laid a blanket on the floor in front of the blazing fireplace. We toasted each other Merry Christmas with the eggnog then I encouraged her to open her gifts.
She ripped the wrap from her first gift; it was a cosmetics sampler case with an assortment of scents, lipsticks and make-up.
“Thank you Daddy,” she said as she spritzed a little of one of the perfumes between her breasts.”
I handed her her second present, this one wasn’t wrapped, it was a stuffed elephant with an envelope taped to his trunk.
“I wanted to buy you some new clothes but thought I’d probably get it wrong, so this is for you.”
It was a gift certificate to Burdines for five hundred dollars.
“Oh my God Daddy,” she looked at me, “This is so much.”
“You’re worth it Sweetheart,” I answered.
And last I handed her a box. She tore at the colorful wrap, opened the box and found a nightwear set, Virginal white trimmed in lace, Baby Dolls with a matching robe.
“I modeled for you, now it’s your turn,” I said.
She bounced up the stairs; a few minutes later she started down.
She walked down the stairs like she was a runway model then walked in front of me, pirouetted, tossed her robe atop mine on the sofa, slowly turned so I could see her from all angles, with her back to me, she bent, wiggled her cute tail at me, then faced me and stuck out her tongue.
“You like?” She asked.
She looked so sexy, “I like, I like very much,” I breathed out.
She walked over and sat on my lap; she couldn’t help but feel my erection, I’d tented the pajamas when she bent over. I couldn’t deny my feelings, she was the most sexy, arousing, desirable woman I’d ever seen; and she was my fourteen-year-old daughter.
Her emerald eyes locked on me, she could read my desire as I could see the same with her. She walked over and loaded a record on the turntable, old music, started it and came back to me.
She took my hand and pulled, encouraging me to rise as she said, “For tonight this is our song.”
To the raspy voice of Rod Stewart she pulled me down onto the blanket before the fire, as “Tonight’s the Night” played she took my hand and slid it under her top to her breast.
Her eyes held me as she whispered, “Tonight is the night Daddy, make love to me.”
I couldn’t have denied her, I couldn’t have denied me had I wanted to, I massaged her breasts as I kissed her. Not a fatherly buss, no, a passionate kiss, my tongue probing hers answering as we shared tastes and breath. She began unbuttoning my pajama top, when my chest was exposed she sucked on my nipples. I took her nightie over her head and tasted her peach sized bosoms, kneading first one while I sucked the nipple of the other. I felt her hand opening my bottoms then her hand sought me out.
While she slowly masturbated me her bottoms fell victim to me, I rolled them off, exposing her flame. My fingers slid along her vulva, she was already incredibly wet. I found her tiny vagina and tried to insert a finger, she seemed so small; how was I to gain entrance. She was tugging down on my bottoms, I helped her; we both lay nude, warmed by the fire and passion.
She spread her legs saying, “Now Daddy, I’m ready.”
I rolled between her thighs, ran my penis along her slit to lubricate, found her small opening and pressed into her. Incredibly I could feel her flesh stretching to accommodate me. Her eyes were closed and I could read some pain on her face but she maintained a slight smile.
I pushed forward until I met her hymen then pausing I said, “This may hurt.”
“I know Daddy but I want it.”
I thrust forward feeling her tear as I took her virginity. Her eyes flew open and she winced but then she smiled.
“I’m a woman now Daddy.”
“You are, you’re my woman and I love you dearly Sweetheart.”
Slowly I started to rhythmically stroke, penetrating to her depths, reveling in her clasping tightness. She encircled my hips with her legs and began to rise to meet each thrust; “Oh yes Daddy, so good, so good,” she chanted as I continued to probe her.
It was the most wonderful sex I had ever experienced; her constricting tautness squeezing me as she continued to be stretched as she strained to accommodate my invader; the love we shared for each other and, I must confess, the allure of the forbidden fruit, incest.
She had sped up, was thrusting against me harder and harder, wrapping her legs tighter and tighter around my waist, lifting herself, meeting me. Her face reflected the pain/pleasure she was experiencing as she started to tremble under me, her chest and breasts reddened, almost like a rash, she threw herself against me then locked her legs around me, her vagina contracted, containing me as my penis swelled. I spewed with a wail of ecstasy, filling her with my cum. She continued to hold me in the grasp of her thighs, I continued to pump into her; finally slowing, stopping. I was going soft within her; at last she let her legs fall from around me.
As she lay before me she was like a vision. Her flaming tresses framing her beautiful face, her complexion still pink from our efforts, her small breasts proudly erect, her nipples still swollen, I leaned forward and kissed each one, then her lips.
With a sigh of contentment she said, “Daddy that was so nice, so nice. Did you mean it when you said I’m your woman?”
“Yes you’re my woman, my only woman Sweetheart.”
“Good, I’ll be here for you anytime you want me. I am your woman and I want to be your only one. I don’t want you to have to go to prostitutes again.”
She shocked me, “Meg what are you saying,”
“Oh Daddy I know, I’ve known for a long time. When you go out for an hour or two, don’t ask me to go with you and you come back reeking of the smell of cheap perfume.”
“You’re pretty observant,” I told her.
She gave me a smile, saying, “Of course I’m observant, I have to know what’s going on so I can take care of you; now promise me you won’t see them again.”
“I promise,” punctuating my pledge with a kiss.
I got up and got a warm washcloth then came back and cleaned Megan, there was a little blood but not much; then I rinsed myself.
I got our eggnogs from the cocktail table and returned to the blanket.
Meg had rolled onto her stomach, I handed her glass and lay down beside her and began stroking and kneading her cheeks.
“You like my bottom, don’t you Daddy?”
“What, now it’s confession? Yes I do like your tantalizing cute tail, satisfied?”
“No but I will be if you’ll play with me there, I like the feel of your fingers against me.”
She arched her back, elevating her bottom and I circled her ring with my fingertip then pressed against her opening. I’d toyed with and teased her for about ten minutes when she whispered quietly, “Are we going to have sex there too?”
“Maybe someday but for now I thing you might be a little small.”
“I think so, too, but when you decide I’ll be ready.”
I loved anal sex. Fiona and I had indulged nearly every week but none in the twelve years since she’d passed, never with any of the ladies of the night. The intimate conversation had resurrected me; I was stiff when I rolled Megan onto her back and knelt between her thighs.
Like a kid over a favorite dessert she exclaimed, “Oh goodie,” as she lifted her legs and pulled her knees toward her chest.
Open, exposed still reddened from earlier but lubricating copiously she offered herself; I positioned her legs over my shoulders and leaned forward as I entered her hot and tight love tunnel, pushing entirely in then starting a pumping motion with my hips.
With her legs over my shoulders she was so exposed, I could watch my cock slide in and out of her luscious body, each time I thrust into her she gave out a little grunt, I could even see that there was still a small spattering of blood as I pulled back. She was flexing her vaginal muscles, squeezing me then relaxing then clutching me again, it was a fantastic sensation. She was rapidly bringing me toward climax; I wanted her to come along with me so I slowed my stroking and reaching between us started to tease her clitoris.
As her breathing became harsh and ragged I knew she was close, I took my fingers off her clit and pressed my hand to her abdomen, I wanted to feel her uterine contractions, and then they came, a clench then a release as she moaned. In her vagina my cock swelled then I shot off, drenching her insides with cum. After I’d pumped out, emptying myself I withdrew but kept her legs in the same position, I watched as my semen oozed from within her then lowered her legs to the blanket.
She was lying with her eyes closed, cooing with a smug smile of satisfaction on her pretty face.
“Alright,” I started, where did you learn to pull your legs back like that and where did you learn how to squeeze; who taught you?”
Her reply surprised me when she said, “You, you taught me.”
“Megan what the heck do you mean, anything you’ve learned from me was just in the last few days.”
“Silly Daddy, you should be more careful, you leave your web browser on.”
Oh Christ I thought, she’d been watching the porno that I look at.
With that revelation I had to ask, “Did you like watching?”
“A few yes, a lot no, but I used them as instruction videos, I learned a few things. Daddy almost all of those women are shaved, do you like that, would you want me to shave?”
“No, no and no, I want my woman to look like a woman down there, not a naked baby. Besides, I love your crimson curlies.”
“OK, I won’t,” she said as she retrieved the washcloth and cleaned both of us.
While she was up she refilled our glasses with eggnog then sat down Indian style giving me an unobstructed view of all her precious treasures.
When we’d finished our drinks Meg stood up and carried the glasses to the kitchen, rinsed then and put them in the dishwasher. While she was gone I glanced out the window and noted that it had started to snow.
As she reentered the room I said, “Maybe we better call it a night so we can get an early start tomorrow; it’s started to snow.”
“OK Daddy,” she said as she took my hand and helped me up.
I had to ask, “How are you feeling Sweetheart?”
“I feel a little achy and it burns some up inside but that’s OK, I think I like a bit of pain. I’m going to take a warm bath, I’ll feel better then.”
I was up by seven, I wanted to get an early start on our drive to the cabin as it had continued to snow over night with about four inches accumulated.
Still clad in my new pajamas and robe I started breakfast. Bacon, scrambled eggs, pancakes and melon (no, not cantaloupe with the current scare, it was honeydew) along with coffee were prepared by the time Megan came down. Like me she was still in her robe and new nightwear.
“Good morning Sweetheart, how do you feel?”
“You nasty girl.”
She grinned at me; “Totally honest, after all you’ll spank me if I lie.”
I gave her a swat on the bottom saying, “Come on, let’s eat.”
We cleaned up our plates and started the dishwasher then we went upstairs to change and pack.
After I’d finished I carried my things down to my Jeep Cherokee, loaded my things and started the engine. I wanted the interior warm when we left then tossed in a cooler so we could transfer our food for the three day stay.
Meg came out toting a big suitcase; I asked if she was going for three days or was she moving.
“I have a lot of things I’m going to need,” she said.
“Don’t forget your boots and parka,” I told her.
“All packed,” she retorted, patting her suitcase.
I put it in the back.
“OK, let’s go,” I said as I locked the door from the garage and the house.
After a stop at the supermarket we were on our way.
The normal two hour drive took three and a half because of the weather, it was nearly four by the time we got in and in the lee of a tall mountain it was almost dark at the cabin. We unloaded the Jeep and stowed our gear.
“If you’ll start supper, I’ll gather some firewood for the fireplace,” I said, “I thought steaks and baked potatoes, just start the bakers, they’ll take over an hour before they’re ready.”
Meg went to the kitchen; I put on coat and gloves and went out to the woodpile.
With a flame blazing in the hearth and the heater turned on it soon got warm in the room. Meg said that she was going to change into lighter clothing; we were both dressed in jeans and long sleeved flannel shirts. I agreed with her.
I was already in the kitchen seasoning the steaks when Meg came in. Without looking up I asked her to fix a salad while I finished the meat.
The salad bowls were already on the table and glasses of red wine were poured for both of us by the time I plated the steak and potatoes. I sat down and she sat across from me.
For the first time I noticed that she was wearing a robe; a robe that was gaped open displaying her breasts; I raised my eyebrows.
“I told you I’m horney,” she said, “I want you to see me, touch me, feel me and oh so much more. I may not put on clothes for the whole three days.”
“Works for me, “I said, “Although we will probably freeze our butts of if we take a walk in the woods.”
“Well, maybe for that I’d put my pants back on.”
After we’d eaten Meg cleared the table. I was sipping on a second glass of wine when she wriggled onto my lap and hugged me.
“Daddy, sweet Daddy my Daddy man your Sweetheart, your woman has a big favor to ask.”
“For you, anything,” I answered her.
“Please give me an enema,” she begged.
“I can’t, I don’t have the equipment here,” I told her.
“Yes you do, I packed it, I even put a nail in the wall to hold the bag while you were wood gathering.”
“You just had one two days ago,” I reminded her.
“I know but I want to try something, please Daddy.”
She liked getting and I liked giving, “Sure Sweetheart, I’ll do that.”
She smothered me with a sloppy, wet kiss, leapt from my lap and went into the bedroom. A few moments later I heard water running in the bathroom then she called out, “I’m ready.”
God, ready she was, I walked into the room, she was on hands and knees atop my bed. Her head lay on the mattress, her bottom was elevated, her legs were splayed perfectly displaying her tight little anus and her womanly charms; I stopped to look and enjoy.
“Com’ooon Daddy; take your clothes off, too, I want you naked.
“My what an anxious Irish Lass,” I said as I stripped.
She’d laid the KY Jelly on the bed; I picked it up, lubricated her then slicked up the nozzle and inserted it.
“Rub my bottom please Daddy.”
It was her show, whatever she wanted; I kneaded, caressed and rubbed.
When she’d taken about a quart of the water she asked, “Could you touch me, you know, down there.”
“Yes, my clit but don’t make me cum, not yet.”
I placed a hand under her, placing two fingers along her little button. She worked her hips, gliding along my digits, exciting and pleasuring herself.
Then Megan moaned, “My tummy Daddy, rub my tummy,” a cramp had hit her.
I switched to her belly, the bottle was nearly empty, she had nearly two quarts of water in her bowels, she was distended, hanging nearly to the bed. She moaned again. I worked the water upward, deeper into her colon as the flow stopped. I pulled the nozzle out of her and continued to rub.
Meg was panting from the effort and strain as she said, “Get behind me Daddy, put it in me.”
I was surprised but didn’t hesitate, my Sweetheart had no idea that she was about to fulfill one of my strongest fantasies; when Fiona was pregnant with Megan I loved to take her from behind, thrusting into her swollen body as I rubbed her sides and belly, even feeling Megan move within her as we mated.
As I entered Meg I admonished, “Don’t leak.”
My cock slid in as I pushed forward, she moaned, “Oooooooooo Daddy, I promise I won’t leak.”
Damn it was fantastic; the water warmed her organs, her big belly and broad bottom alluring to me as I thrust into her soppy vagina.
Both of us were exceptionally aroused, the lewdness of our coupling, we climaxed rapidly, Megan was moaning as she came, me wailing praises of my partner, my beautiful daughter.
I lowered her to the bed, on her side then lay behind her, reaching around to caress her tummy.
She held her water for around five minutes before whispering, “I have to potty Daddy.”
I rose, helped her from the bed and took her to the bathroom. After seating her on the commode. I started to leave, she asked me to stay. With her frequent enemas I knew the content of her bowel would be nothing but water. I stayed.
She reach and took my penis, while she emptied she masturbated me.
After washing our hands and genitals, each of us donned robes and returned to the kitchen.
Meg made hot chocolate while I spread a blanket in front of the fire. We sipped our drinks and watched the flames dance.
She took our empty cups to the kitchen and rejoined me on the blanket.
“Daddy can we do it with me sitting on your lap?”
“I’m sure we can,” I answered as I lay down on my back, “But let’s try this, I think you’ll enjoy it. Now, straddle me.”
With a knee on each side of me I asked her to guide me in, telling her, “When it’s in slowly sit down.”
Once I’d filled her I told her, “This is called the Cowgirl position, it gives the woman a lot more control. Now you can rock back and forth and move up and down.”
First she rocked on me then began bouncing up and down. She was laughing with glee as she whooped, “Ridem Cowgirl, wow this is fun.”
She was having a ball bouncing on me until she discovered that by rocking back and forth she could rub her clit against my erection; hell, she tried to do both at once, back and forth, up and down, whoopin’, hollerin’ generally raising hell as she pounded me.
“Whoa Daddy,” she screamed out as she came, wet, wild and wonderful, her young pussy gushed, soaking my balls with her ejaculation. She squirted; she’d never done that before, it seemed to scare her, she asked, “Daddy, what happened to me, did I pee on you, I’m sorry, Oh Daddy.”
“No Sweetheart, you didn’t pee, I’ve got to tell you, no woman has ever done this with me, not even your mother, but you squirted your juices out. Not many women do that and I think any man is proud when he can make it happen. And I am proud, proud that you’re my woman and my lover.”
“You didn’t cum?” he asked.
“No, not this time, this one was for you, only you,” I grinned up at her, then I added, “Let’s go to bed.”
“Only if I can sleep with you,” she smiled at me.
We walked to my bed, I still had my erection; when we climbed between the sheets I turned her so that her back was to me, spooned her and entered her from behind. I just fitted myself into her, filling her, I didn’t pump, I wanted to sleep with us coupled, she seemed to understand.
We lay quietly for some minutes before she broke the silence.
“Daddy do you know why I like my enemas?” She spoke into the quiet.
“Why don’t you tell me,” I asked.
“Two reasons; I do like the feel of the water flowing into me, the cramping that comes with it and how you touch me then but when my belly’s all hanging out, and second, when I’m full I like to pretend I’m pregnant.”
“What Sweetheart, you want to have a baby,” I asked.
“No Daddy I don’t want to have a baby, I want to have YOUR baby,” she whispered.
“Sweetheart don’t you think that’s a little early to think about?”
“Of course it’s premature Daddy, I’m only fourteen you won’t make me pregnant until I’m eighteen then we’ll have four children.”
“You’ve got it all planned out, hunh?”
“Yup,” then using her fantastic muscle control to squeeze me she asked, “Do you want to cum?”
It turned out that, yes, I did, she milked me then snuggled back against me, we both slept.
She beat me up the next morning; she had sausage patties, eggs, fried potatoes, juice and coffee waiting when I stumbled into the kitchen.
I was in my robe as was she; let’s eat then go exploring she said. I was cool with that.
Stuffed on breakfast chow we both were dressed for the cold weather when we met on the front porch; we strode off. We didn’t discuss sexual intimacies as we walked, our conversation was more pragmatic. There was no question our relationship had changed, we needed to clarify, it was evident that we’d gone from daughter and father to man and woman, she understood, I understood. We divided responsibilities’ I worked, she went to school, I brought home a paycheck, she attained good grades, she cleaned the interior of the house and did the laundry, I was responsible for all outside work plus all maintenance and we would share the cooking. We had talked as we walked; we sat down and looked out over the ice-covered lake. My tush was chilled, I suggested we needed to go, I was cold, she said she hadn’t noticed. I noticed the snow surrounding her bottom had already melted. I though, My God she really does have a hot ass.
The snow had started again while we took our walk; by the time we got back to the cabin it was evident that we weren’t getting out for several days. I voiced my concern to Meg, Our food was limited, we’d need to conserve.
“Daddy can you hunt?” She asked.
She knew I kept a gun safe at the cabin; I had a shotgun, 12-gauge Winchester and a .22 Magnum I answered, “Yes, I could hunt.”
“If we run out of food you can get some for us,” she said.
I hadn’t shot in ten years; God the assurance of youth was unbelievable.
I was imagination us surviving on rabbit stew and fried squirrel.
I thought, Christ I hope this weather breaks, if I have to try to shoot something I’ll probably hit my foot.
Fortunately, we had plenty of firewood; we got back to the cabin, shed our outdoors’ clothes (read we were back in our robes), and were back before the fire.
Meg made a plate of sandwiches with potato salad, cole slaw and pickles as sides and we shared our lunch before the fire. The blanket had become our focal point. The light sandwich lunch was just enough, I didn’t want to get logy, I had dessert I mind.
Meg took our plates back to the kitchen then lay down with me on the blanket, “What would you like to do now Daddy,” she asked.
Without answering I spread her robe and admired her breasts then I opened her attire further, putting her entire body on display.
“You really are spectacular,” I said as I took her robe over her shoulders, denuding her, her body completely displayed.
To her I said, “I want to make love to you, not like what we’ve done but as my woman.”
“I am your woman, do what ever you want to,” was her answer.
We were both now nude, lying side by side; I took her into my arms and, for the first time kissed her as a lover, not as a daughter. She wasn’t quite ready, she tried to pull away, for the moment I let her.
“Sweetheart, you’re my lover now, please kiss me.
Tentatively she placed her lips against mine, we’d kissed before but this was different, it was going to lead where we’d never been before but when she finally gave me her lips we melted together.
Yes, unquestionably, this was her evening; the setting was perfect, a mountain cabin, a fire dancing on the hearth and the most exquisite of partners; I couldn’t have staged it as well.
I’d never given Megan a passionate kiss and followed up, I cradled her in my arms and brought her lips to mine, we tasted each other’s breath then lips then mouths. My tongue probed between her lips, enticing her to reciprocate, I wanted to taste her. Her tongue snaked forward probing my mouth, sucking my breath. I let my lips taste her ears, her throat and down her swelling breasts. They’d nearly doubled in size; her nipples were long and distended, red from blood infusion; I took one into my mouth as I teased the other. She was so tender, she moaned as I suckled her. With a final kiss and a gentle twist I moved down her body, across her chest, over her torso and down her belly. She was soft, her sides and belly yielding, then her little innie belly button, I reamed it with my tongue and slid down burying my face in the wild curls that composed the scarlet coating of her Mons Veneris.
This was not girl, this was woman, as I sunk lower, as I experienced her fantastic wetness I tasted her for the very first time, my tongue glided along her vulva between her labia, licking, reveling in the slickness that was her lubrication, sucking in all of her flavor. From the very top of her flavorful slit to her perineum and beyond my tongue tasted her, experienced her, then up to the top for a moment or two tonguing her clitoris and then back down her velvet slit, dipping into her vagina, stabbing her with the tip of my tongue then back up. Her clitoris was not large, more a love button than a projection, nonetheless it was oh so very sensitive, I took her between my lips sucking as though I was a nursing baby, I batted and teased her little gem, the pearly tip as she exploded in multiple orgasms. I held her as she trembled, I pressed her to the mattress as she bucked, I let her pound her pelvis against me until she’d spent her sexual energy then I rolled her onto her tummy and massaged her for a few moments as she calmed.
She was gasping, trying to catch her breath, “Oh Daddy, what did you do to me,” she asked at the same moment my tongue touched her. I’d spread her sweet cheeks and buried my face into her musty depths, yes, I rimmed her then tongued her, enjoying her earthy scent and dusky flavor.
She pushed her bottom back meeting my tongue; she was so ready to experience more than she had.
“Daddy, tonight,” it was almost a plea as she asked.
“No, not tonight Sweetheart,” I answered, as I sunk my tongue deeper into her, flicking it in and out as I fingered her clit under her.
She climaxed; from my fingers no doubt but I kept on her, licking her tight ring as she went through the throes of her orgasm.
The girl was hot, no question, my Megan was sizzling, even though it was approaching eleven and the old man, me, was beat she wanted just a little more. She rolled so we were in the spoon position then said, “ Put it in me Daddy,” she arched her hips inviting me in, I accepted the invitation, pulling her to me and burying myself in her burning warmth.
We lay for several minutes, neither of us moving, neither trying to elicit a sexual response. Finally Meg asked, “Daddy do you know why I like enemas?”
“Yes, you told me,” I said.
“I want you instead of a tube Daddy.”
“Sweetheart, we talked about this, we’ll wait.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
I gave her a sharp whack on the bottom, “We’ll do it Daddy’s way,” I told her.
“When can we,” she whined.
I told her, “When you’re older, when you’re sixteen, OK?”
“Oh Daddy sixteen is such an arbitrary number, I’m ready now.”
She was, I knew she was but I’d decided early on that we’d wait. Did I regret my earlier decision? Yes. Was I going to change it, No, but nothing stopped some energetic play, I pulled her over my lap.
“Are you going to spank me Daddy?” She asked.
“Do you deserve one,” I shot back.
“Probably, I can be a bad girl,” was her retort.
I gave her a light whack then opened her thighs and stroked her. She mewled as I felt her. Then I lubricated my fingers and circled her tight ring. She pressed against me with her pelvis, breathing deeply; I slipped a finger into her and stroked in and out. We were going to wait until she was sixteen but I had the feeling she’d demand fingers and tongue frequently.
Meg spent the night in my bed, the next morning I awoke to a most erotic feeling; she had me in her mouth fellating me. As she licked along my shaft, circling, sucking then taking me between her lips, into her mouth as she tried to deep throat me. She couldn’t handle it all but she sure tried. I was starting to swell when she stopped and straddled me, guiding me in, she wanted her Cowgirl; as she slid down my pole it felt like I was being enveloped by soft, warm wet velvet. I fondled her breasts as she rocked on me then she started to post, up and down she bounced, faster and harder she rode as she flung her head from side to side whipping her luxurious tresses. Suddenly she slammed down and stayed as she hissed, “Yesssss, oh God yessss.” I was right behind her; I thrust up shooting spurt after spurt into her luscious body.
The rest of our stay we were sexual gluttons, every position imaginable, tongues, fingers and mouths employed for the sole purpose of giving and getting pleasure.
Once home we set about exploring and getting comfortable in our new relationship. I wanted her to continue her extracurricular activities, cheerleading, sports, the things she’d participated in and enjoyed. She was popular with her classmates, even dating in groups, doing the things a teenaged girl did. She even hosted two parties at our home over the ensuing two years.
A fancy dinner date had become ritual; for Meg’s fifteenth she’d opted for Thai, this year she’d chosen a famous seafood restaurant, our reservations were for eight.
She, of course had outgrown her ivory pantsuit, she wore an outfit that she’d shopped for and selected. I thought it was a little over the top but other patrons of the restaurant seemed not to agree. In her red mini-skirt, red blazer and white shell top she turned more than one male head as we walked to our table.
We feasted on shrimp, King crab legs and New England lobster and took our desserts “to go,” Key lime pie for me and a slice of pecan for Meg.
I lit the fire in the fireplace while Megan made coffee. As it brewed she went to the bedroom, I assumed she was going to change but I was wrong, she came out still attired in her mini. Instead, she’d gotten the blanket that she spread before the fire.
She then brought in our pie and coffee, I expected her to recline on the blanket but she served me then sat primly in the opposite chair.
Over the past two years Meg and I had made love hundreds of times, I knew her body intimately so, it was with a touch of embarrassment that I was trying to sneak a peek under her mini-skirt.
She caught me and smiled, “Like what you’re viewing?”
“Immensely,” I answered.
We finished our desserts; Meg took the plates and cups to the kitchen then came back and stood in front of me.
“I’ve got a gift for you, you have to unwrap it.”
Being a little dense it took me a moment to get her drift then I realized she was my gift; she wanted me to undress her.
She’d stepped out of her shoes but was otherwise completely clad. I helped her out of her blazer and lay it on the sofa; next was her shell top. When it came over her head I was greeted by the sight of a fire engine red brassiere trimmed in white lace. I took a few moments to admire her; her bosom was swollen, she was breathing deeply in anxious anticipation. I unfastened, unzipped and lowered her skirt. Again I paused, taking her in. Her panties were the same scarlet as her bra; she was wearing thigh high stockings that I decided to leave on. As I reached for her panties she pirouetted ending with her back to me, she bent over putting her fine bottom on display. Printed on the seat of her panties was the legend, Daddy’s Gift.
Then she turned to face me, with a big grin adorning her face she announced, “I’m sixteen now Daddy.”
First I removed her bra, kissing each full breast then I lowered her panties. She continued to stand before me and she was spectacular, she’d grown, filled out, her shoulders were muscular from her athletic endeavors, her breasts were full but erect, standing proudly displaying her hardened nipples, below, her hips had widened creating the classic hourglass figure, she remained unshaven, her pelt had thickened to a mass of flame, her thighs had remained slim although her bottom had spread. No vestige of a child remained; she was a desirable, delectable young woman.
I took her down to the blanket; it was our special place, recumbent before the warming glow, the fire dancing in the hearth as we made love.
I took Meg into my arms, held her, my Sweetheart as I tenderly kissed her honeyed lips. Her breasts were bared for me; I sucked the nipple of one as I caressed the other, giving each my attention and homage then licked over her flat tummy enjoying her little shivers as she became more and more aroused. I ran my tongue through her glorious flame tugging with my lips before opening her, my tongue gliding the length of her vulva already brimming with her exuded nectar, tasting her delicate flavor, reveling in her exotic redolence. I dipped my tongue into her vagina, eliciting a wriggle from her then slid across her perineum, inhaling her earthy musk, dampening her with my tongue.
I moved back up, found her tiny love button, licking her. She’d brought a tube of lubricant to the blanket; I squeezed some on my fingers, as I teased her clit I massaged her anus then slipped in a finger. As she started responding I ceased the clitoral attention, I wanted her well aroused but not to climax. I added more of the lube and worked a second finger in, pumping.
I asked if she was ready.
“Please Daddy,” she responded.
I rolled her to her tummy and lifted her hips, she pulled her knees under and raised her bottom, I slathered some of the KY on myself and moved up against her, aiming my straining erection at her virgin rosebud. I touched her and pushed forward. Her sphincters yielded to the pressure, I slid into her, continued to press forward and filled her rectum.
Meg had moaned, a plaintive, “Oooooooooo,” as she stretched to accommodate my girth but as I started to pump she set up a chant of, “Yes Daddy, yes Daddy, Oh, harder, harder please.”
Her pleasingly plump posterior pounded back forcing me deeper, giving me even more pleasure.
“Faster Daddy, faster, Oooooh I’m gonna cum, Daddy, I’m gonna cum. Harder, make me cum Daddy; make me cum, oh, oh, oh, Yesssss, she wailed as her body trembled. She’d become tighter as she experienced contractions, her clutching sphincters choking me as I swelled. I powered forward then came in a roaring explosion deep in her bowels, flooding her with my semen as her vagina pumped her precious juices onto me, she’d come in gushes. Spectacularly she’d climaxed with only anal stimulation, something that even Fiona hadn’t done. I didn’t want to pull out even after I’d gone limp. Fact of the matter I didn’t withdraw, I just fell flaccidly.
I was still kneeling behind her, she turned and came up to embrace and kiss me, painting my face with wet kiss after wet kiss she enthused, “Daddy that was the greatest, the very best,” then she jumped up and went for a warm washcloth.
After she’d cleaned us she lay down beside me, “Wow Daddy, just wow. Now I want to Cowgirl.”
“Hey, it takes the old man a little while to reload,” I told her.
Grasping my softness she said, “I’ll help,” as she took me between her lips, fellated me until I was ready then swung across me for her pussy-pounding ride.
God she loves this position, she whoops and hollers like she was Dale Evans chasing the bad guys. She came with a wail that sounded for all the world like an Apache war cry then fell forward on me, pinning me to the blanket.
When she finally let me up she said, “Let’s go to bed.”
I was ready, we gathered up our clothes, she grabbed the KY and we headed for the bedroom.
After we’d hung our togs up she suggested a nice warm bath; sounded great to me, we filled the Jacuzzi tub, set the jets to massage us and climbed in. No sex, we washed each other with exploring hands and fingers then rinsed and toweled off.
As we got into bed she handed me the KY Jelly, “One more?” She asked.
I was whipped but she’d never denied me nor I her, I wasn’t going to start now.
I pulled her over my lap and lubricated her then I rolled her on her side so we could spoon.
“Arch your back and push your bottom back to me, “ I directed her.
I entered her from behind, sliding deep into her guts. Reaching over her I started stimulating her clit with my fingers as I slowly pumped her. I wanted desperately to grip her hips as I filled her. I took her hand and directed it to her clitoris, holding it in place until she was rubbing then I held her by the hips and thrust into her harder.
Damn, her chocolate channel was hot and tight; she soon found delight on the tips of her fingers as I spewed into her from behind. I left my deflating cock in her as we both, exhausted, dozed off.
The next year and a half seemed to fly, over the summer vacation of her seventeenth year (by the way that birthday dinner was Indian), as we lay cuddling, she reminded me that eighteen was coming. Her plans hadn’t changed, she was determined that, when she was eighteen I would impregnate her.
“Everyone knows us,” was my argument.
“Then we’ll move,” her counter.
“What about my job?” I asked.
“When we decide where to move you can get hold of a headhunter, you have skills and talent, he’ll place you.”
“What about the house and the cabin?”
“Sell them both.”
And so it was, I scheduled two weeks vacation, rented a small motor home and we screwed our way across the South of America. We decided Ashville, North Carolina would be our new home.
I put the cabin on the market right away, we could live without it, I wouldn’t list the house just yet, we anticipated moving when Meg graduated from high school which would be the following May.
I’d already been in contact with a management recruiter; the job search had begun.
The cabin sold rather quickly and at an acceptable price. In February I listed our home and over Spring Break we drove to Ashville to see properties.
A job offer had come in, nice salary and plenty of perks; I’d need to report on July 1st, the opening was because of retirement. I accepted.
We’d not have a cabin and a home initially so I was looking for something secluded and on a lake or river, we found the perfect home on Lake Kenilworth and, of course it had a fireplace. I made an offer contingent on the sale of my home; it was accepted with closing tentatively set for June 15th.
I accepted an offer on our home and closed on May 30th, just two days after Megan graduated.
We’d taken care of several details pending the relocation not the least of which was getting Megan health insurance. Her anticipated pregnancy could prove to be costly.
She went off the pill in March; she was eighteen years and three months old.
On a cool April evening we decided to light the fireplace and spread our blanket, it held so many good memories for us; this would be our last fire here.
Our coupling was bittersweet, slow and tender; words of love shared, touches, kisses, and plans for our future our climax was mutual, we lay holding each other, me still in her, just smiling.
When the moving van left so did we. We’d have to stay in a motel in Ashville until the closing.
Nothing yet showed but my Sweetheart had tender breasts and two missed periods when we drove off heading into our future.