0 comments/ 216082 views/ 20 favorites Lion's Pride By: Lion's Pride Blake nodded. The man made some sense, after all. The only problem was that Blake, after today's accident with her crotch, wasn't sure what his feelings for his daughter were, exactly. He was starting to lust after her, his own daughter, and he wasn't sure how the license of a marriage would help. But compared to death, it was definitely the lesser evil. "If my daughter says no, that is it - I don't care if I get killed, but that would be my decision." "She has already agreed," a female voice chirped in. Blake turned around - his back had been to the door - to see a fair-skinned woman, about twenty-two or -three, with all the significant features of her father. A pregnant belly protruded from the confines of her long skirt that left all but her shoulders covered. Pete walked over to the woman and hugged her gently, taking care not to push against her tummy. "I am Sandy," Pete's daughter spoke. "Amanda agreed to marry you. She tried to put forward that she was unsure, but your wife convinced her that it was quite all right. I must say, Maggie appears to be more excited by the upcoming marriage than the to-be weds are." Blake found one last arrow in his quiver. "What if we agree to be the Gods, but say we don't have to marry because it was all a mistaken belief?" Even before he had finished, Pete was shaking his head. "Wouldn't work, mate. I put a feeler for something along those lines, and the chief told me that your blood would flow even then. These people believe more in their tradition and customs than in anything else, and not even a 'reincarnation' can make them change their beliefs. Besides, you are just a reincarnation - you are not the actual thing." The evening sun spread orange rays over the sky, but Blake was hardly in a mood to enjoy the beautiful scenery. He felt the same jitterbugs that he had felt when he had married Maggie, his bride's mother. His bride, Blake mused. What must she be thinking, meeting at the altar her own father, the man who had caused her birth in the first place? Would he be left jilted at the altar? He wished he would be. Trumpets blared. The chief walked with all his regal bearing, accompanied by a young woman who had a crying baby in her arms. Father and daughter - no, husband and wife. The more Blake willed himself not to, the more he found himself picturing how life would be with his daughter and their - his and Amanda's - child. He tried to shake the thought off, but before he could, it gave him an erection. The loincloth around his torso did nothing to disguise the tent. Blake shuffled uncomfortably, painfully aware that his erection would not go down before his daughter came there. To their wedding. The door to a nearby hut opened, and Blake's eyes popped out. For coming towards him, head lowered demurely, a red cloth around her waist and only glittering jewels above, with her breasts bared for the world to see, was his daughter. Blake couldn't take his eyes off her - he had never thought that someone could be so beautiful. The Pride had certainly chosen the right Goddess. Now if only they didn't want her father to marry her... But, a voice told him, he wanted to marry her. He wanted to take her as his wife. Blake tried to shake his head to clear the cobwebs, but the head barely moved; he stared motionless at the approaching semi-nude beauty that was his daughter. She raised her eyes shyly at him, only once, and seeing his intense gaze, averted them. As far as Amanda was concerned, this was her crowning moment - the moment her mother had issued the 'no objection' certificate, Amanda knew - rather, she gave in - to the desire of being her father's woman. Step by step. Closer to the man she called "Daddy." Closer to the moment he would become something else. She walked forward, shy, but confident of herself. The short path ended at her father's feet, in front of a large idol of two lions. Even in the midst of the tribal chants, she could hear her heart beat; her nipple throbbed visibly in tandem with her excited core. An entourage of six other women accompanied her to the vicinity of the altar, but they would come no further. She would walk the last three steps to her father's side alone. "Psst," whispered Maggie as she slid in beside her husband. "Doesn't she look gorgeous?" Blake nodded without looking back. Maggie smiled to herself, surprisingly acquiescent with her husband's preoccupation. Gracefully, she moved back into the crowd. Since Pete was the only person who could understand Blake, it was decided that the former Australian citizen would be the priest for the wedding. Chants rose to a crescendo as Amanda walked alone towards her father, only to fall into silence as the priest spoke. "The Gods be thanked for gracing us with Your Sight, Your Presence and Your Matrimonial. With Your wedding do we wish to pay our respects to those above us, far and beyond all of us, to the very limits of the Universe that you Gods have created for us." Pete drew closer to the bride and the groom. In a lower voice, he said, "I now pronounce you man and wife. Blake Gerry, you may now kiss the bride." With just a second's hesitation, Amanda moved her face towards Blake, tilting her head suggestively. Blake covered her lips with his, his doubt of whether the kiss was part of the usual custom ignored at the first touch of her soft lips. As soon as he kissed his daughter, Blake knew it was special - no hard evidence, just a gut feeling. Amanda closed her eyes as his tongue invaded her mouth, accepting the invitation. Her tongue slid underneath his, like two serpents mating with each other. He thrust his tongue down as far as he dared, tasting the darkest nook and cranny of her mouths. For her part, Amanda did nothing else but survey the underside of her father's serpentine oral, drawing forth stray drops of saliva onto hers. For well over two minutes, the two lovers kissed. As they pulled away, the crowd roared thrice, the last roar the loudest. For the first time that evening, Blake looked at his wife, suddenly unsure of her reaction. She smiled back at him, a sign that she wasn't angry. Then she winked at him and pointed at Amanda, the blushing bride. "Carry her," she mouthed. Another cheer erupted as Blake literally swept his daughter off her feet and carried her out of the sacred plot. Pete moved alongside him and pointed to a large hut a few meters ahead. "There's your palace, mate. Your new home." Maggie suddenly appeared beside them and gave them a quick peck on their cheeks. "Mom!" Amanda squealed. "What do you think?" "You two make a lovely couple, you know that?" her mother teased. "I mean that - you two look positively made for each other. My best wishes." "You aren't angry?" interjected the new husband. "Of course not, silly. I guess I knew it would come to this one day. I mean, what father can resist such a beautiful daughter who is already in love with him... and what girl can resist her father's affection?" "You knew?" Amanda rounded her eyes at her mother. It had always been her little secret, but it seemed as if her mother had been in on it for some time. Maggie smiled patronizingly at her daughter. "Just call it a mother's instinct." She stroked her flat belly. "One day, you will, too." Pete held up his hands, and almost immediately, the entire crowd dropped back. "You are on your own, mate," he said to the newlyweds. "The night is yours." He motioned for Maggie to follow him. Maggie held a thumb up before turning around and going back. Blake looked at his daughter, lying across his arms as he carried her towards their new home. His fears had been allayed - no one had any objections, least of all his lovely bride, and at the moment, that was all that mattered to him. She smiled back at him, dreamily gazing into his eyes and finding infinite love there. She returned his unspoken words of love with eyes of her own, answering him with the same love he held her. The hut had a single room, with a large straw cot in the middle of the room. On a three-legged table were kept various fruits and vegetables - their nuptial feast - and a clay jug. A bright oil lamp, fuelled by some lac of the jungle trees, burned steadily over the cot, throwing its light all over the room. Blake carried his daughter towards the cot and dropped her gently down. He looked at her form for a couple of seconds, drawing in her virgin beauty. Amanda allowed herself to be studied, and stretched full length against the cot. Amanda held out her hands, motioning for her father to join her. Blake slid in next to her, surprised that the fragile looks of the cot had disguised its strength. Even as he slid into position, Amanda moved on top of him, and placed her head on his bare chest. They enjoyed the feel of each other's body against their own, the warmth and the intimacy catalyzing their desires for each other. Blake placed his hands on the hem of her cloth and pushed it down. Amanda assisted by raising her hips so that her father could slide the material off her body even more easily. Simultaneously, her fingers undid the knot of his loincloth. As her bare crotch came into contact with his, a sigh escaped her excited body - he exuded a grunt. His cock stuck out like a flagpole, obscenely intruding upon the dark confines of her warmth. The patch of hair above her feminity crinkled against his, shooting bolts of electricity across each one of them. Their lips sought each other again, and they kissed with renewed passion this time. Animal instincts began to take over as the two lovers ground their pelvic regions together, her wetness and his hardness the eternal aggressors into the other's territory. Moans came hard and fast as the intensity of the kiss increased. In their rabid, animal movements, his cock entered her pussy. Barely the tip had gone in when the two of them stopped in mid-motion. They looked into each other's eyes. Words were unnecessary as they realized the wanton needs of the other, the requirement of the ultimate consummation. Amanda sat up, the action pushing her father's cock even deeper into her pussy. She paused for a second as his tip touched her skin, and then, while diving for his mouth, impaled herself to the root on his engorged member. Blake wanted to love her - love every inch of her - before he entered her, but Fate had intervened. The other aspects of lovemaking would find some other time. For the moment, though, they wanted to reach for the stars together. Amanda cried out loudly as she came, her cuntal walls squeezing his shooting member. Below her, Blake, usually a silent lover, had no other alternative but to give voice to his pleasure as well. They came together, their orgasm dying out within seconds of each other. They collapsed into a heap, a mass of sweating bodies. "Tell me, my dear Amanda," her father panted, "Was it really as good for you as it was for me?" "Better," came the hoarse, daughterly reply. "To top it all, it is my first time. Just wait until you teach me more..." "God save me! You are going to give me a heart attack, girl. More of this... Jeesus!" Amanda giggled at her father's tone of abject resignation. "You deserve it, my man," she cooed in his ear. Her long hair fell around their faces as an exotic tent of their own. It spelled intimacy in bold letters. "I like that - being your man." "I love it - being your woman, Daddy. But you know what I want more?" "What, honey?" "Your... the mother of your children, Daddy. I want to have our own family, our own kids. And then, one day, our grandkids..." "I see what you mean... Honey, I am ready if you are." "In that case, brace yourself. My period is due in a couple of day's time." "Couple of days, huh? Gives us enough time." "Enough time for what?" "'Ough time to make some juice." Blake reached for an orange kept on the bedside table - God knew where these people got such fruits in the middle of the forest, but he was hardly in any mood to trace its origins. He parted the rest of her smooth hair on her back, letting them drop to her sides before he squeezed the orange dry. The cool sap dripped on to Amanda's back, and she shuddered at the sensitive contact. With his free hand, Blake spread the juice all over the small of her back. "And lap it up." Maggie smiled to herself as the sounds of loving emanated from the hut again. Behind her, the tribal party was reaching its peak, its crescendo preventing any of the new couple's sounds form being heard. Beyond the 'wedding' hut of her husband and daughter stretched the dark forest. Deep. Inviting. Wordlessly, she slid into the darkness.