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Misadventures of Stan

By: devil_dreams



Part I

When I moved to the country in my retirement, the garden out back was considerably small. I had no family left and in a short period of time afterwards I felt myself growing weaker by the day. Perhaps that what happens to people who have no one left to talk to, no one who calls to check how you are, even if it is just a nurse from a hospital. The physical side takes care of itself, but the mental side is the one that decides whether life has been worth it. But at 54 years of age I should not have been as close to death as I found myself. 

The only redeeming feature of my bleak existence was the internet. Just like in a computer game, I had a set amount of gold to spend, but it wasn't gold that would accumulate. In effect, it was all that I had left. For some reason the state pension was not picked up and I couldnt be bothered to talk to automated voice messages that had previously denied that I was Stanley Thomas, despite providing them with the information they requested. Eventually I was too tired to argue. I had all but resigned myself to my fate. 

Still, I was considerably excited about the prospect of what to spend in my final days, even though there was a cliched element of 'last meal' about it. It was almost a pleasure lying in a house with no one to bother you, or worry or annoy you. No, my kids had departed these shores long ago, somewhat alienated by my attitude towards them. Even as adults I spoke down to them, because I was a control freak at times. Wouldn't give it up for anything. I had so much power, it drove them away. I was happy for them. My reason for being stern was intentional; that they had outlived their stay in the nest. 

My son, Peter said goodbye to his mother and left me a post it note. That was time I heard from him. As for my daughter, Penelope; she stayed a while longer. It wasn't all smooth sailing however. I recall the time she walked in on me by the laundry basket one day, and watched in stunned silence as I joyously rubbed her silk panties all over my face. I was so intoxicated by the smell of her cunt; it was like sniffing a fine wine. She just stood there, hands on hips, the apple of my eye, as I, her perverted father became fully aware of her presence. I was sat on the bathroom floor, as dizzy as hell. If I had found any more of her erotic wear I would have become drunk very quickly. 

Suffice to say, Penelope still wanted to stay. She loved me so much, and in her eye I was her hero. We had a heart to heart and she told me to be more careful. After that, she would take her dirty panties or lingerie for a detour to my room for what she called 'processing' and let me be perverted in the privacy of my room, with her consent of course. 

I must agree it was a fine arrangement. She had quite a collection and only left me the most erotic, skimpiest and tiniest underwear. Jesus, I could play with them for hours. Bits of cotton, polyester, satin, velvet or silk that had chaffed against her pussy and even, he imagined, got caught between her cunt. Little clefted panty rubbing against her inside her denim jeans or mini skirt. It was a realistic possibility, one that I relished the thought of. 

My daughters tiny panties - Oh the sweet sweet smell! from the cunt of my little precious girl was exceedingly welcome and my nasal passages were in heaven. She was, of course a grown woman now but in the eyes of their parents, offspring will always be their child.

It wasn't until my wife passed away when everything changed, almost in the blink of an eye. We hadn't been intimate in years, and rarely spoke to me much near the end. I felt like an arse myself, thinking such terribly thoughts in her absence that spilled out like an oil tanker that had gotten too close to the rocks. Thoughts of a nature that were extreme to say the least. I dreamed of turning her over in her coffin and fucking her up the arse a lot. I even filmed it all somehow and then the dreams would get worse. There would be a passage where my son was visiting his mothers grave using Google Earth: Cemetary View and caught me fucking her corpse up the arse. It was quite demented. I was looking forward to just what else my uncontrollable imagination could cook up. 

Unfortunately, Penelope was not coping as well, but I couldn't really see it, I just assumed thats all. Therefore, there was nothing particularly unfortunate about that, other than my own suffering. 

She was a struggling artist, was Penelope, and I was... becoming more depraved by the hour. It was as if, my sadistic nature was always there, but my wifes presence had held it at bay all that time. Now I felt the spell was lifted. I felt unbound, and Penelope would feel the brunt of it all I suppose.

It wasn't that my inhibitions were never there - I just had no desire to control them any longer. Thus, I adopted a new stance which involved wandering around the house completely starkers. Often, my aimless walks would lead me to the entrance of my daughters room. Here I stood, one hand one floppy dick, demanding the keys to her belt.

RAP RAP RAP! My receding knuckles went..

'Yes dad?' Her voice would call out charmingly.

'Can I fuck you darling.' I asked, hoping she would open it. 

She was so nice, she would always open the door and let me in. But we never once had sex. Not like I hoped anyway. She wasn't particularly pleased by my perverted nature, as she was a submissive being, and believed in Jesus and other moral things, like equality and freedom of speech and thought. We would talk for a while while I sat trembling beside her, bum cheeks sunk into her pink duvet.naked, rubbing my dick with her red see thru's. 

We were quite a pair the two of us and our postures did not betray the fact. I sat slightly hunched, moaning and eyes half open like a sex mad zombie and she had her arms crossed, fully dressed and back straight like Mary Poppins, the expressions on her face concerned but not surprised. If her face could speak it would say 'What am I ever going to do with you?' and if she could read my mind it would be saying 'feed me a spoonful of sugar.' 

'We can't do it dad. I hope you understand the reasons why.' She explained softly. Her brows never once pinched. 

'We can't do what dear?' I teased, hoping to coax the word out of her. I had never heard her curse before and wanted to hear it coming out of her lips, even if it were just the once.

'We can't,' She paused and took a deep breathe '...fuck' 

She said it softly and to hear someone say it lacking any agressive edge whatsoever was so erotic. Like I had just broken her verbal cherry yet she would remain a virgin if she kept saying it like that. I rubbed her panties along my 8 inch shaft that much harder as a result and some precum immersed itself into the fabric of my daughters naughty number, creating a wet patch at the front, the same area that her cunt would fold and neatly tuck into her pussy. .

'I am curious...' I began. 'If you are so sweet and innocent, why do you have so much lingerie?' I wondered. Now I really was drunk! What a state of bliss!

SCHAAK! SCHAAK! SCHAAK!

She sighed. 'Its kind of normal you know dad. Girls dont exactly wear bloomers anymore.' She explained with a sheepish smile. I kind of managed to laugh with her. She had a good sense of humour but I wasn't finished drilling her.

'Do they all wear crotchless knickers too?' I asked. It was a good question, and one that made her think, because she had a few pairs of cotton splitters. 

'Not all of them dad. I don't know.... Do you think I should not have bought them?' She countered. 

I leaned back but kept up my rhythm. 

SCHAAK SCHAAK SCHAAK!! 

God her panties were flimsy and ever EVER so tiny. 'Goodness no. I'm glad you bought them,' I beamed with my red horny perverts face. My grin was momentary. I licked the salt gathering at the top of my lip. I loved the way Penelope just sat there in her prim and proper way, and watched me masturbate. Happy days! 

She cupped my chin and said 'Awww, thats so sweet.' She responded well to compliments. Knowing I had approved her selection of underwear did not change anything for me however. Her clothes were still firmly hugging her gloriously curvacious figure, so the only chance I had of fucking her was a hard cock and a prayer, and I didn't pray much.

Again, I asked her for sex . Invariably, she used the 'f' word again, followed by no. She waited for me to shoot my cum somewhere over her bed and then she would escort me to the bathroom followed by my room. We established a new routine for each afternoon that touched on the theme of incest, or at least I did. Everytime I would end up cumming all over her bed or her floor, or on her knickers. Then she would clean me up and tuck me in, kiss me on the head and sometimes even sing me a verse from the holy book itself. 

I'm glad she put up with a bastard like me for so long. 

The last straw came eventually. I was beating off as usual one evening in her room, while she watched. She was playing with a toy bear I bought for her birthday and it slipped from her hands and fell over by my feet. She advanced forward and her cascading hair landed on my thighs, brushing them unintentionally. Somehow, her face was hovering over me, dangerously close to my dick. When she picked it up, her neck pivoted slightly lower and I felt her lips caress my thigh before she regained her original position by the bed. As I went to say something she put a finger to my lips. 'We can't do it daddy.' She said. I noticed the 'daddy'. She always called me dad you see. This meant she was feeling a bit different tonight - A bit horny maybe. Hopefully.

[End of Part I]

Misadventures of Stan Ch. 02



Part II

Recap of story so far: Stan is a middle aged man who lives alone and his health is deteriorating. He lies in bed thinking lurid thoughts about his daughter, and of unfulfilled desires that would have his deceased wife doing cartwheels in her mausoleum if she knew he was having incestuous urges of such a kind.

And now the story continued....

There was one thing I knew for certain - Although it was but an expression, to break a camel's back with a straw? It had some element of truth about it I suppose. For a start, I was every bit the insignificant figure in play. A pathetic excuse of a human being; completely devoid of any form of consistent goodness. I was consistent at masturbating, but that was not helping matters. Still, it helped me that's for sure. When I wasn't doing it I was thinking about it. Even during my working career as an architect, I would often have one hand on my crotch and the other on the board. Quite often lines weren't straight and drawings had to be binned, but not till after I had cum all over them. Heh! Those were the days.

My wife was a good source of relief before she had the kids. Then they became her most important things. Whatever light she had shone on me was gone, and with it, her love. At first I figured she would come back - the secret looks we would share would return. I missed them. I missed her.

Perhaps I didn't deserve her...

I remember my position with my kids quite clearly; I was a strict man. Peter knew this more than most. He had some balls on him though - usually answering me back after a telling off. Even if I was bearing down on him ready to beat him, he would not flinch. He was a brave soul. As for Penelope, she was not exempt from the rage of my 'slap happy' hands but never did anything to make my blood boil. If anything, her presence seemed to calm me. Peter knew this and would try and ensure that when I was on the rampage, he was in the same room as his younger sister. 

Penelope was very fond of me. Her attachment to me drew resentment from my wife though she never once mentioned it. I had been an architect long enough to be able read the angles of expression on any face, and know whether it was a bad thing or a good thing. But that's just a disguised interpretation - I kind of got the picture when the sex dried up. 

When an individuals mode of relief changes, his mind takes him to new locations; to new faces and scenarios, when the old ones no longer work. I started to incorporate masturbation in the house for the first time in a few years. It was addictive. It got to a point where there was no way I could engage with my wife intimately had she approached me with such intentions. Her mouth could not resuscitate my lifeless dick, it was dead to her. 

At this point, other events occurred that I did not expect. Penelope often rested her head on my thighs or lay with me; she was very loving and thoughtful. I never gave any thought to her, if her head was too close to the intimate regions. But when she was 14 she seemed to be inching closer. I guess her head had grown a bit more since last time. Once she was on me she would lay completely still, so, often I would have to move her. Possibly she took this in the wrong way, thinking I was too busy trying to watch TV and did not want to be disturbed. 

After that, she became less attached physically, which was a relief. But at the back of my mind a mine had been stepped on and as the smoke finally cleared a new door revealed itself. Locked for now, a mist-like string of erotic odour floated out towards me from out of the keyhole. The odour of incest. 

The first whiff of it stunned the back of my head, like some strong mustard might. Except it was entirely pleasurable. Of course I struggled with the guilt associated with such inappropriate thoughts for a while. But after some time I incorporated them into my sessions. 

Mostly thoughts of my mother. I would lie back under the duvet completely naked with one hand stroking dick, and visualise an image of my mother. Of course I needed pictures so I just took the earlier ones of when she was a young woman in her 20's. She was quite the model, with all her wigs and poses in those days. They made good wank material. 

I especially liked the pose of her in the garden in a bikini. It was a strangely a picture I always skirted his eyes over whenever the family sat together to reminisce. I seem to vaguely recall not really liking it very much, and now I knew why; She stands with her back to someone, and one side of her bikini that covered her bottom... well, the material on one side had climbed up and over and one bum cheek was freely visible. 

I lost count of the times I wanked off to that classic. I just hate that her face was not also in view. Still, it was quite a bubble of an arse that never failed to give me erectile spasms. I'm not sure who took it and why mum never discarded it, but I sure was thankful. In the face of a broken marriage, it was my only saving disgrace. Were there any grace in beating your dick furiously over sexual thoughts of your own mother, I did not find it. 

After a while, even the guilt was lying face down in a pool of blood. Bludgeoned to death by my demanding sexual needs. I was like a baby suckling for milk, wanting to take control. To be on top and to suckle until she had an orgasm. 

I was a mother's boy you see; I always held her hand and let her do everything. She was over protective and it wasn't until I was married that that bond loosened appropriately. I finally had air to breathe. She had kept me so close to her chest that I had one ear sticking out more than the other. 

Now it was a fitting reminder of my mother, though not in the way she would have hoped. 

As I was saying before, after my wife died, and Peter left, there were only two beating hearts in this house; mine and my daughters. Penelope had become accustomed to my immoral behaviour and adjusted to it perfectly. It was almost as if it didn't matter what shape my hands were, she always found a glove that fitted. She knew I desired her for a while now and had a glove for that too. It was a strawberry flavoured condom. 

For months I had been an exhibitionist; stroking my meat pole in front of her. She seemed a willing audience though not an interactive one. The most intimacy we shared was verbally considered and without script nor plan. She was almost as good as me, in that, she was composed while I was a nervous wreck. A feeble conversion of the earlier Stan I remember in days of youth. A bit of a lad, and a mommy's boy rolled into one. 

Penelope scooted over to me and surprised me. She clasped a section of the silk panties I had wrapped around my cock between thumb and finger and then looked at me.

'Daddy...' She said softly, her dreamy smile making me loosen the choke hold on my cock.

With my action, came her own. She unwrapped her tiny, rumpled panty from my throbbing member with the delicacy of a bomb disposal expert. It was sexier than Catherine Zeta Jones in that heist movie where she is avoiding the red lasers and has to jut out her arse at one point. 

Once it was free and my dick was bobbing slightly, she held it in her hand in a half-closed fist and rested her hand by her side. 

It was a small room and the smell of cum filled the air. If she could smell it she wasn't concerned. Actually she was used to it by now, and also told me her brother used to smell of cum a lot. Especially in the time leading up to his departure. It was an interesting bit of information. Perhaps Peter was pining for his mother too, or his sister, or both.

'Anyway daddy I was thinking... I have been visiting the church more often lately... because of accumulating sins.' She said frankly. I was only half listening because my eyes were fixed on the dick-soiled, cum-smeared panty held in a crumpled heap within her sensual grasp. It reminded me of a mother holding her child - with a delicacy that could only be admired. She knew it had just been on my dick yet she held it in her hand like it was the last tissue in the house.

I had not forgotten the condom either, which was resident on the right side. It seemed like a good omen. The faint scent of strawberry filled my nostrils and made my dick quiver in delight.

'I know that sometimes one has to take a few steps back before they can move forward again. I have accepted that much.' She continued. 

The silk panties were now partially deposited inside the pocket of her tight denim jeans. It was so erotic!

STROKE STROKE STROKE!!

'I see.' I replied, mind as bereft of words as a barn of hay. 

'You left that picture of your mum lying around you know. The one you like.' She explained. She looked down at her hand and managed half a giggle. 'I should wash my hands... but I don't want to. Do you know why Daddy?' She posed to me.

STROKE STROKE STROKE!!

I had no counter response of any merit but the odd pause, which preceded the thought that this was some kind of trick question. One thing was for sure, when my dick was draining all the brains resources, there wasn't juice left upstairs remotely capable of forming recognisable sentences. 

'Uh, no.'

'Well,' she started. 'Because... I have been smelling you're cum for so long now and I still don't know what it feels like.' 

I was midway through swallowing just then and her words caused a sudden constriction of my throat, resulting in a loud, observable gulp. Had she finally confessed a weakness? I was relieved she was telling me and not the priest. 

The smell of cum was inviting. It was intoxicating. Even for my daughter. It just took a long time and willpower to hold it in its place, but it appeared like she was on the threshold, between her world of morality and my world of depravity. 

I think the biggest factor in my favour against god, was that she did not want to lose me. She could have left anytime, but she stayed, knowing what I was like. In her mind the solution lay here and she was keen to find it no matter where it led her. 

She sniffed the air with a zestful energy, eyes closed, her nose tilted and nostrils flared. 

'I really REALLY love this smell daddy.'

BOING!!

If my dick could do cartwheels, like my dead wife... just a thought. Still, my dick hardened further. The skin stretched and veins more prominent after that admission. It was a terrible thing that she was as much a failure as me, but great because it possible meant I was going to get to fuck my little girl. . 

As height went she was a pixie complete with short raven blonde hair. She had a slim figure and probably no tits. Her main asset however was her pouting arse. It looked tight and round and very VERY sexy.

'So, can you fuck me baby?' I asked my daughter.

She put her cum stained hand on my lap. Her hands were tiny but her appetite for sex was voracious. I hoped.

'It depends...' She replied.

'On what?'

'On who's asking; you or Mr 9inch,' she paused before adding the word '...cock.' It seemed to roll off her tongue beautifully. Her transition from good Christian girl to cum sniffer was complete; like butter melting into toast. Now I knew her melting point I could stop acting so nervous around my little girl. My adorable incest muffin. I could not wait to eat her out.

'Is it him?' She said tapping the mane of my throbbing cock. Her curiosities clearly aroused. She lightly surrounded the head of my sausage with her fingers, each one threatening to clamp down on it but instead I felt the heat generated from the gap between her fingers to my foreskin and head. It was quite intense.

'Is it him?' She asked again. She sounded as if she could go on asking me this question all night. 

'YESSSS!! YES IT IS!' My dick is horny Pen.... so fucking horny.' I said grabbing my dick again. I started to stroke the full length of it while my daughter watched intently, her face so close. She sniffed around my cock like a dog that encountered a multiple of strangers. 

SNIFF SNIFF SNIFFF!!

OH Goodd! I said with ragged breath, I could feel the air around my dick being pulled away and disappearing up her nostrils. I was so glad she liked my cum. In response, my shaft throbbed and my balls tightened. Penelope retreated. Got up and walked towards the door. I heard the sound of metal sliding over wood. When the door was locked behind her she returned casually to her place beside me. However she had adopted a new position, on her knees where she leaned on me by rested her arms on the edge of my lap.

'Ok, I'm ready.' She smiled still having not given me permission to fuck her. But the gleam in her eye was clear and held not promises but realities which would come to bear fruition in its own time. The inevitable scenario of one mans lust for a lover; that being, his very own child. We both knew how we felt even if she seemed so ok about it all, inside she was afraid herself. 

As pre-cum poured out from my tip she sat absorbed in it all. I could feel that my night was just about to get started. 

[End of Part II]



Misadventures of Stan Ch. 03



The first time I stood stroking my cock in front of my daughter, was the most liberating experience of my mundane life. I wondered whether or not I had considered the implications of my actions thoroughly enough? I was intelligent and at times very wise, but often these traits were undermined by my weaknesses and my tendency to migrate towards them, and normally without any prior notice. 

She was shocked and I apologised. My cock went limp and I was heading out but she stopped me and brought me back inside her room. She laid out a towel on her bed and I lay on that beside her in complete silence for an eternity, just looking up towards the ceiling. My thoughts would have been dampened by my pounding heart. I could not hear them. I already knew what was happening inside of her. Something complicated. Like a powerful processor that was designed to calculate permutations and identify the optimum solutions. 

The level of empathy she oozed was apparent in all of her decisions. Other people had to be treated first, before she could attend to her own needs. This selflessness was something I enjoyed exploiting I am sorry to say. I preyed on it like a blood thirsty leech. In reply she would relax even further and let me suck on her as much as I desired (not literally speaking).

It was a quiet evening in, but outside it was lashing down with rain. Pellets were rattling against the window. 

'You're free to stay here tonight dad, if you want.' She offered. It meant sleep but no touching. I was however granted access to wank by virtue of her subtle placement of tissues on the bed. It was done with some notable affection. I love the way she neatly folded the tissue into three layers making sure no side was askew, and then remained positioned on her stomach with an arm up to support her head. Her face; like a stadium floodlight in my direction, watching me and my body. She was a spectator that showed no expression of curiosity on her face but, rather, one of a person who seemed completely at ease with what was unfolding before her. 

A fiddled around a bit; dragged my limp cock back with a finger and then released. It kind of wobbled and returned back to the centre. My eyes always took interest in landscapes and in particular, the landscape of the female body. I couldn't escape but notice her body when she was 16. Her dress sense had undergone changes. All the heavy, loose tops were binned; replaced with the essential kinky teenage fashions of the moment. She certainly caught me by surprise a number of times walking around the house in tartan mini skirts, tube tops, platform shoes and glossy lips. 

I was already wanking off to thoughts of my dead mother, I didn't need this. After all, was it ok for me to think my daughter was hot? Was it ok to fuck her in my head? My dick answered all my questions for me in typical style, causing me to adapt my reasoning to its logic. Advising me to fuck any pussy I wanted. Be more Viking in my approach, more aggressive, like I had become with my dead mother. 

I noticed that, prior to switching my fantasy's, I was performing the most extreme hardcore sessions of intercourse with my mother; the darker the better. Each session had to top the previous, and each session lasted longer, because I really wanted to enjoy what I was doing to my mother for as long as possible. I could wank for hours, but it would depend on how empty the house was. The best sessions were in an empty house. I would lie nude in bed and have my door wide open. Such good times!

Eventually, my mum was not stimulating me any longer. But I had a replacement in mind. Penelope. I had now reached a new level of depravity. Subject was still incest but the taboo was less acceptable, because a) it was with my daughter, whom I adored and b) she was only 16 and very much alive. But man was she hot! Just thinking about her made my dick stand up; it rose like a vampire from its coffin and greeted me with approval. I realised then I could not fuck mum again. It just wasn't controversial enough anymore. I needed to tap my daughters arse now. 

I had a lot of great sex with my daughter; all mental projections maybe, but as real to me as I wanted. Fast forward 10 years and now she was watching me wank off. After the first night, we were together every night for 2 months. On weekends, we would try different rooms around the house. I would spank my monkey and she would watch. She never smiled much, nor seemed bored either, but was like a kind of nurse. My tissues were always prepared in front of me, towel placed on any surface, be it couch, bed or carpet. The trickiest moment was when I was ready to shoot. I wasn't always on target. She always cleaned up afterwards anyway. It was all good fun.

On our last night together (as I would learn afterwards), her mood was decidedly raunchy. She sat kneeled in front of me with arms crossed over my knees. I sat on her bed and stroked my 9inch dick, the tip of which wasn't far away from her glossy lips. She had dressed up for me like days of old. Her old miniskirt and tube top. 

'What kind of things did you do to your mum?' She asked me running her hands up my thighs. 'Don't hold back any details.' She finished. 

STROKE STROKE STROKE!!!

This wasn't Penelope before me - it was lustful sex demon. She seemed possessed. Somehow, I figured a priest would not be interested in exorcisms at this point; he would be salivating while fucking my daughter like a dog. He would let me watch hopefully.

'Whatever you can think of ... I did it.' I muttered under ragged breath 

STROKE STROKE STROKE!!

'Did you ....' Penelope started, caressing my calves with the back of her fingers '...out of curiosity like, you know... fuck her up the arse?' She asked, her widening eyes staring into mine. 

'I did and she loved it. She... ungh.. Loved the dirty stuff more than me.'

'I'm not surprised she liked it daddy. 9 inches of your cock meat inside her tight arse, violating her body.' She said sniffing around my cock like animal. I moved closer to the edge of the bed and brought my dick at an angle just above my daughter's nose. My balls smacked against her cleft chin. SNIFFFFFFF!!!!

'Mmmmmm.' She purred. My little incest kitten. My muffin, my sweet incest cake. Her pink glossy lips peeled open like a springtime flower. Her tongue peered out like a snake about to leave its den and what a long snake.

She licked the underside of my cock. 'Mmmm Daddy cock.' She said to herself.

Ungh!!!

One lick ignited a fire; got pistons pumping and veins throbbing. 'Oh yes baby! Lick Lick Lick!!!'

'Wait.' She said leaning away slightly so she could peel off her tube top. What it revealed was a flat chest with pointy nipples; small and cute. She scuttled between my legs spreading apart wider to make sure she could fit inside. She was tiny so she didn't need much space. She removed my hand from its choke hold and wrapped her little spindly fingers around my thick meat pole. They appeared to be thicker than her wrists!

She gave me a dirty smile 'Oh my.' She said feeling the full length of my shaft. She seemed to enjoy the way my foreskin stretched when it was yanked upwards and how my head disappeared inside my helmet. Sometimes she would let go just to see it all slink back into position. 

STROKE STROKE STROKE STROKE STROKE STROKE!!

'It's so fucking long!' She said through gritted teeth trying not to let out her lustful moans trying to find a gap through the calcium bars. 

She came up a little more, leaning towards one side of my leg and stroking my cock with one hand while her other one applied vertical caresses to my chest and stomach area. I could feel her nails wading through my hair and it tickled. It was sensual.

She licked my cock Ungh! Held it like a microphone and kissed the tip with her glossy lips. Unnngh! Oh my little pixie! My sweet SWEET incest kitten.

She purred 'Meeoowww' her paws rubbing against me, her long darting tongue complimenting my foreskin with glorious licking action. LICK LICK LICK!! OhhhOhhhhOhhhh yeaaahhh!! 'Oh Baby!!' I moaned. 'In your mouth...ungh... take it in your mouth.'

She kissed and kissed and sucked the tip of my dick thoroughly. LICKKK LICCCCKKK LICCKKK SUCK SUCK!!

She stopped. Stood up and put her arms around my neck. I held her by the hips and explored the bare skin of her small back. Her frame was light and I felt quite powerful and dominant; no longer a nervous wreck. I pulled her in and engulfed a nipple and its areola in my mouth. My tongue swam around her pink cone and felt it begin to harden and become pointier. My daughter just watched me and moaned. The sensation of my tongue against her nipple caused her thighs to rub up against my dick. She was in a high state of arousal. 'Come on daddy... Ungh.... fuck me.... come on papa ... Ungh.'

My hands were roaming, exploring the fine contours of Penelope's vulnerable frame. If I wanted to have her, I didn't need to ask, I could just over power her I thought. I couldn't help think such hideous things when I was horny and reasoned that it was all role-play designed to enable relief; to optimise it. I traced my fingers along the belt and as she was busy ruffling my hair I tugged at it playfully until one pull saw it completely removed. Her skirt loosened up at the top and slid around the nape of her waist. Her pelvic bones were slightly visible though the good thing about Penelope was despite her slender frame, she was not bony. Her body was compact and beautifully toned. 

She leant down for a peck but I moved away teasingly. She tried again and this time I did not move; my lips locking with hers. Her glossy lips were so sticky and great to look at. They especially looked good on my dick. LICK LICK LICK LICK!! I began fondling her soft arse through the rough tartan cloth and she gasped. OOHH!! Wow! Finally! They felt much better than I imagined they would. Each cheek was bigger... fleshier. I snuck low and under and ran my hands up her skirt. OMFG!! (Oh My Fucking God!!) Like water balloons wrapped in silk! I enjoyed a leisurely 10minutes just stroking, grabbing and kneading my daughters amazing ass. She was caressing my face and leaning down to kiss it over and over. 

'I love you daddy!' We hugged. Our faces aligned and we made out. It was passionate and fucking steamy as heck. I hardly noticed when we collapsed on the bed and she tumbled into me, her lips battering my neck and chest, her tongue invading my skin which such ferocity that I almost felt like I was being raped. The sudden rush of electric heat from my daughter was something that had built up over a long time. She was very sassy and a brilliant tease. Often she would slow down just to lift up her head and gaze into my eyes; tell me something she was thinking.

'If I had a cock daddy, Ungh... I would make you suck it.'

'Call me Stan.' I said.

'I'd do anything for you right now Stan. My dad. My lovely woverly dad.' She said kissing his neck after each word spoken.'

It was weird feeling my daughter's naked body grinding up against mine. A shock to the system; like I'd downed a glass of vodka thinking it was tap water. 

She was climbing all over me, kissing me from head to toe. Licking me so much I felt completely lubricated and sticky as hell. She loved my dick the most. Who wouldn't? 

The first time I shot my load prematurely it shot up over my stomach and squirted onto her as well. She smiled and played with my cum, making swirly circles on my love handles with my sperm; with daddy's sperm. Oh my daughter was a natural. She crawled back down to my genitals and sucked on my cum-oozing cock. MMMMM!!! Yummy!!!!!

I wanted her to stop but she wouldn't. She licked my balls well; like an over excited dog. I had to keep looking at her to figure out if she was my daughter or a dream. You know how a face seems to become unrecognisable the longer you stare at it, I didn't get that feeling. Luckily. 'I love you.' I told her frequently. But this made her mad. 'Why are you telling me now?' She said hurt, swapping dick from one hand to the other. Kissing it and loving it. In her lust she had developed an incoherent personality; she was swimming in all kinds of alternating moods and I particularly enjoyed seeing her angry. 

'Come here.' I snapped. She clambered up to me straight away. She kissed my ear and told me she didn't want to go to hell. I caressed the back of my daughters head and told her sexist joke about how many women it takes to fit a light bulb. She laughed and told me I was an idiot. We kissed. It was very intimate and the matching embrace complimented the scene. 

I put my tongue inside her mouth and she reciprocated. She held my face with both hands and sucked on my tongue for a while. My dick was on the rise again. It had lifted up and was positioned between my daughter's legs, halted by her vagina. . 

Penelope guided my meat pole inside her pussy and gasped. It was big and she was loving it. Her hips began to move like a locomotion train and within minutes her arse was jigging up and down furiously in and out of my dick. She really knew how to shake her arse!

OOHHH BABYY!!!! OOOHH BABBYY!! OOHHH BABBYYY!!

SCHLOP-SCHLOP-SCHLOP-SCHLOPPP!!!! She rode me with an honest aggression that I loved. Really tore into my dick with her tight incestuous cunt. We were sweating like pigs and squealing like them too. The bed was threatening to collapse but we couldn't stop for nothing. 

When I was ready I just shot my entire load inside my daughters pussy, I couldn't help it. She rested her glistening body on top of mine, both our chests beating hurriedly against each other. Her eyes closed but her hands weren't finished. She roamed up to my arms and tickled my skin with her nails. 

The little pixie was finally spent. 'I love you so much.' I told her, but this time she was not angry. I had wanted to fuck her and my dream had come true. I gave myself a low 5 by smacking her butt. By contrast, Penelope had very little to celebrate about, not only had she just fucked her own father but he had also impregnated her with his sperm. Now she had to decide whether to keep it but did not want to think about it in this moment. .

When I woke up the next morning, Penelope was gone. She left me a letter by the fridge in the kitchen. In short, it read:

'Dear Stan,

I'm glad we finally got together. I always wanted to fuck you. But I wasn't prepared for the feelings afterwards. I'm sorry I had to leave... The guilt was too much for me to bear... Maybe I will return one day with your son (not Peter). So, you heard right the first time, I decided to keep the child I hope you approve. And... I hope you forgive me daddy. I will love you always.

Your incest kitten, 

Penelope xxx' 

[End of Story]



Misadventures of Stan Ch. 04



After reading Penelope's note I was devastated. I quickly folded it; slipped it back into the sleeve of the envelope and sealed it shut again, as if I had never opened it. I put it under the welcome mat just to be random, perhaps thinking something under the rug could change the words the next time I read it. But I had seen this all before and knew that it was not like a badly hand written term paper. 

Just as I had dealt with one note, another letter came through the door. It's many stamps were colorful and European and it was addressed to me in neat blue ink. There was nothing better than receiving some sort of attention, by whatever means of communication, and I considered peeling open the seal to entertain it's sender, but my heart was blackened by my recent loss. I knew it was from Aunt Fanny's side, perhaps from someone I had never met and had no intention of ever doing so. What could they possibly do to help me anyway?

My daughter had left and that was that. I guess it was the right thing to do, considering she was young and had to go out there and choose one of the many suitors who would be the father to her child. Our child; or rather, my gift to her.

It was more than just a token to remember me by, the only remaining link between us. I kind of wanted her to ring on the doorbell and take me to her room for a session though, just for old times sake. I could pull my pants down and she could watch. As for the sex, in the end we did it just the once, but it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. I imagined my hormones would give it a rest after 40 but it wasn't like that at all. I've always had some sort of object of lust occupying my mind since I was a little boy and when I began to notice Penelope around the house in her figure hugging clothes, I adopted her as my new sex thing. During many one on one fantasy girl dreams, she agreed to be my slave only if I demonstrated my complete dominance over her. It was hard to know how aggressive she wanted me to be exactly, but after successive sessions, I had gotten quite aggressive indeed. Much to the extent that she was hogtied, glazed and had her mouth held open with an apple.

That was a good fantasy, but nothing compared to the real thing. I can still remember squirting the biggest load of cum inside my daughters cunt. It must have shot up like lightning, and filled the tight tunnel with my juice. So much poured out of her pussy it was quite a sight. She just smiled and told me she could not believe her daddy had deposited semen into her, quickly reassuring me that she enjoyed being filled like a twinkie. She rubbed her oozing cunt against my thigh like she was trying to fuck it and my leg squirmed to help spread her lubrication over a greater surface area. She licked it all off while I watched, her eyes never once leaving mine. I could tell she was ready for more and I wanted to cry because I was damn well exhausted. She fell asleep and that was that. 

I let the months roll by in a house that was twice my age and it still felt young. Yes, under the weight of my feet, the steps ached and by the aid of the wind, the walls groaned, but like me and my dick, it also had the feeling of being under served. Many rooms were hardly ever used, not since I was running through them all, trying to find the best places to hide, and that was a long time ago. 

I was still a horny old man, but my mind was not best left alone for too long before it became unstable. I wasn't a man who ever had any hobbies as such. Normally such types of personalities are driven by one sole aim, such as a family orientated man who existed only for his family, or a sportsman who trained every day in preparation for the weekend game. If you were to remove the very thing they focussed on, they would fall harder than most. Luckily, my main focus was myself. Apart from sex, nothing really interested me. 

I always assumed I was 9 inches but I had never really took the time out to look for a ruler or measuring tape. I had always been a bit shy in public urinals, opting to take the vacant cubicle instead. Men did often look over at each other, and size, well - it mattered. 

My well hung penis was a beast but I could not help but feel it has been seriously under served, like the near unspoilt parts of the house. My dead mother never got any while she had the chance. I mean, the opportunity was always there while she was at the height of her pomp in her late 30's. I was 17 and embarrassed about the flared trousers she would make me wear, because the fabrics made for a loose style, that did not fare well with the particulars stuffed inside my under wear. All too easily I was liable to react to the most unusual things at the most unfortunate times. One time my aunt, Fanny, sat across from me one evening and told me about the history of lemons. She spoke at length and I swear I could smell citrus permeating from her body.

"Vanille Citrique my dear." She explained of the strong scent that hit me when she waved an arm over my head. 

I'm not sure when I became her 'go to' guy, but I learned one thing, and that was, never to elude to others to what extent you were paying attention, because it only got me into the kinds of situations I worked so hard to get myself out of. All the cousins called her Funny Fanny, but she had another side to her that only I got to see. Like my mother, Fanny was a poser for the camera, always trying to be the main focus in shots. Unlike my mother, Aunt Fanny was curious about the bulge that could often be seen on my pants, ever since she first caught sight of it during our lemon conversation. 

I remember smelling citrus and then tasting it at the back of my throat. Next thing I knew I had an erection. Aunt Fanny took it that I enjoyed her story telling and would endeavor to make the next time more memorable. 

As I reclined in my chair on a beautiful bright Sunday I wondered how I could have forgotten about my sexual encounter with aunt Fanny. Maybe it was because I was always thinking about my mother. Like every woman, I'm sure she would not have been adverse to putting a big cock to her mouth had the opportunity presented itself. Yet, no matter how much I imagined the scene itself, It just could not match the desire to see it actually happen. It would have been a pleasant surprise for her I'm sure.

I tapped the foreign letter against my arm rest, and broke open the seal. The letter inside was written in German. Luckily, that was one of my specialties. It was from a girl called Anneka. I read the letter but it's words did not sink in. I was already to busy tracing my steps back to a time long ago, when I was in my teens. Thinking about the history of my penis and it's misadventures. Although my mother had seen my dick, she had never given it any attention like I always dreamed. 

As it happened, aunt Fanny was the first one to inspect my tool, but it wasn't something that just happened without any warning. For a long time between her visits, I was made to run around, sometimes like a headless chicken, doing little chores for her. I guess I must have liked her because she was always smiling at me and patting my head; making me a willing servant. 

She was a good looking woman, kind of like Stephanie Seymour on stilts. Her front was always hard to ignore in that Mary Poppins like dress. She was a lady after all with an aristocratic husband from the British Isles, and dressed like she had money. She was, on the whole, a socialite, who had nothing better to do than visit people and talk about things like sharp tasting fruit. I'm sure she was more complicated than that but I was not privy to Fanny's business in those days or I guess, any other day after that. 

"Well, did you pack the hamper?" She said.

"Uh?" I replied standing before her without a clue of what she was saying.

There were no prior engagements with Fanny, nor plans. She just did things on the spur of the moment often forgetting to fill me in completely, and thus leaving me to decipher her language.

"Out by the front Stanley. Quickly." She said ushering me towards the front of the house. 

She left me to exchange thoughts with her sister in the hallway, where the sounds of their voices were amplified several fold.

I stepped outside and saw the hamper. Once it was loaded to the back of her car I sat at the back, arms spread out along the head of the seat, pretending like I was an off duty submariner. It was a beautiful day much like this one. When Fanny appeared, she told me to sit beside her at the front because she disliked having anyone positioned behind her. I understood that, since I didn't really appreciate people staring at me while I was trying to eat. I joined her at the front of her imported car and we set off down the road on my first adventure outside the house.

"Your mother asked me to show you where she used to go camping, but we are going to settle in a park somewhere before that." She explained looking over at me. "I hope you don't mind."

"No, I don't mind Aunt Fanny."

the wind was rushing past so quickly, with air pummeling our faces; it was hard to hear her when she spoke, but I had good ears. Fanny wasn't good at concentrating on the road with the way she turned to me every time she wanted to speak.

"Sometimes, your mother likes an empty house. I can't say I blame her."

At that point her hat flew off and she just laughed. At the speed she was going I wouldn't have surprised had her clothes come off too, but then that would have been comical, like something out of a banned x-rated episode of Laurel & Hardy, which didn't really exist, but I could settle with comparing it to a 'Carry on ...' movie instead. Looking at another way, it might have been better if her clothes weren't pilfered by the elements, because I knew she would step on the brakes, and make me jump out and chase after her clothes. I was not accustomed to being with her outside of the house, so I was quite shy and quiet at first. when we reached our destination, she drove the car into a path off the road and we got out. Here we were near the coast, as it was quite breezy and it was nice to hear the sound of the gulls and the waves. I picked up the hamper and followed Fanny up a short bright green hill and set ourselves down at the very top where another world was spread out over it. 

I looked over to witness the panorama. Beyond the smooth sand lay a kingdom of blue, stretching into infinity. It was hard to take my eyes off such a simple looking landscape because there was so much to see with the naked eye.

"Why don't you try these." Fanny said handing me a pair of binoculars.

As I went to take them she pulled away. "Now, what do you say?"

"Thank you" I answered.

"That's very good Stanley." She smiled.

She hummed a tune and almost threatened to break into song. Maybe something about the hills being alive or something. Her voice was not quite on that length, but it was bearable.

I adjusted the lens and focussed out -- first into the sky to spot all the kinds of avians flying by. It was a popular location for birds because the winds allowed them to glide along without needing to flap their wings as often as they would need to further in land. 

"Not many flocks out there today." She observed. That would normally happen much earlier in the day. 

"have you been here before Aunt Fanny?" I said pointing the binoculars at her face. I saw a big hand motion for me to lower the instrument.

"Yes." She said laying out the picnic. "With your mother and father, before you were born."

"Down in that beach there was once a house, but I don't know what happened to it. It's fascinating how the landscape changes over time."

We tucked into some sandwiches and sat there in serene tranquility, sometimes staring at each other if we did not have words. She told me to call her Fanny from now on and she would call me Stud. I had not heard of such a word at the time, nor what it implied, so I didn't mind.

Fanny sat up and pushed out her chest. Her breasts must have been quite something.

"Did you know bad posture affects digestion?" She told me. 

She liked to give me advice, and I just believed it all, so I hoped she would also advise me to kindly remove her clothes and start licking her pussy. I wouldn't need a second invitation, but with Fanny it was hard to figure out fact from fiction. A serious offer could induce a false promise and I could not let myself fall into such a trap. 

"Let's talk." She she in a rousing way.

"About lemons?" I replied.

We both laughed and it was nice to know that I was feeling comfortable again. She blew me a kiss. "Oh Stud." She chuckled "You're so sweet."

She looked at me like I needed to be broken in and then cleared the blanket of our plates and glasses. When it was bare, she surprised me by leaning over and going on all fours like an animal. I kept my arms to my sides unsure how to react as Fanny crawled all the way way up to me. "Miaow." She purred like a cat. Exactly like a cat. I gulped and she brushed her head against my ribs. My dick sprang out like a party whistle and the bulge was instantly visible.

"F-Fanny?" I stuttered.

She brought her head up to my face and licked my lips a few times with a darting tongue. "Miaow."

I felt some sort of sensation shoot up under my chin and my head muscles jerk outwards from her action. It felt really good but I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be doing. I sat there like a wax work as Fanny circled me, all the while remaining on all fours. She purred and rubbed her head against me affectionately. I guess this was one of those things I would have to work out by myself. I had only seen similar behavior demonstrated by sirens in a Finchcock movie where a woman was seducing a man in a picnic scene long enough to allow a flock of giant crow's to sneak up behind him. For about two years I had this new phobia, namely that, if I saw anything flap, I had to jump out of the way. But Fanny was only distracting me long enough to point her derrière in my direction. She reversed her crawl and wiggled her ass, which through her lady's dress still stoked my hormonal fires below. 

"Come on Stud." Fanny said, playfully prodding my chest with her booty. "Show Fanny a good time."

I lost my shirt and pants pretty quickly, with my hands acting as agents for the impatient corner of my brain. I still sat sensibly like a schoolboy about to sing a score of hymns, while the endearingly, if not entirely unusual Fanny, gasped at the sight of my timber.

"Well I do say!" She marveled picking it up my meaty slug. "I knew it was big ... but 9 inches ..."

Thats right, I thought. I was 9 inches Stan, even though that could easily denote the name of a serial killer and his favorite choice of weapon, so I was thankful, in this case, it was in reference to my dick, which was essentially a stabbing weapon in the erotic sense of the word.

"Suck it good Fanny!" I blurted, like an involuntary muscle had twitched, my mouth was suddenly spouting my own kind of Shakespeare, no slings and arrows about it.

"You're just so naughty!" She cooed. Her hands were rolling my dick like it was in a dysfunctional printing press feeder designed by robots who were stuck in some kind of 'can not compute' loop. Hence my meat was twisting and turning, the foreskin being pulled out of position only to return to it once her hand strokes were satisfied. She then pulled the hood back to reveal my helmet and I almost expected her to say bravo bravo but instead she looked at me and for once was speechless. 

She gave the most delightful hand job in her long white gloves. Later she coated my rock hard dick with picnic jam and asked me if I liked it. 

"Oh, I like it."

She stroked often with one hand from tip to base and it made her smile to know that she was touching the dick of her sister's child. If she had a dick, she would have a boner too. But I settled for the constant tongue panting she exhibited, normally demonstrated by dogs. She smiled while she panted and it had me wondering which other animals she could impersonate. I lat back as she cupped my balls and then swooped low to kiss and suck on them. She took each ball in her mouth, pulled it back a little and sucked on my smooth hairless ball bags. Her tongue playfully teased the air beneath the underside of my cock, threatening to give me a nice long lick. She liked lollipops, but mine was better because it would never melt. 

"Suck my cock." I pleaded.

She obeyed. My dick slanted up like a military rocket and Fanny's mouth just swooped low and enveloped a sizable chunk inside her mouth. It felt like hungry wet suction device that was not industry approved but it felt amazing. I loved sticking my pole inside her cave and always ventured further in without permission. It was clear that such excursions were necessary.

Fanny had a big mouth that was designed for talking and sucking. I pitched my arms out and leaned back as she treated me to the most delightful blow job. My cock was long and thankfully, not too thick, because, it allowed an expert cock sucker to take it all in. Fanny wasn't familiar with the term 'deep throat' at the time, but neither was I. All, I can say is that she loved the way I fucked her throat. She would be commenting and praising me every time she unplugged for air. 

"Heavens! What would they think?" She sucked.

"That an aunt is taking care of her nephew?"

"Yes! Yes!" She sucked. "In more ways then one!" She giggled.

I took her head and pressed it down deeper into my shaft and Fanny began to choke a little. 

"Come on Aunt Fanny, suck my fucking dick!!"

"I'm trying, I'm trying!!"

I got up and ordered Fanny to lean back. My dick had never seen this kind of action before and I wasn't about to waste an opportunity to fuck her good and proper. Sure, I could have stopped at a blow job and called it a picnic to remember, but I knew that Fanny was a two-faced woman. One minute she could be smiling, the next, crying. What if she decided to forget about this episode like it never happened? Not on my watch!

She positioned herself as I requested and I stood up to her face, and started fucking her mouth with my dick. It was more aggressive and more enjoyable. She looked so stupid in her upper class dress and make-up. She looked a bit like my mother and I really enjoyed that aspect. 

"Do you like that Fanny?" I taunted.

She replied in some throat language. Each syllable from her was interrupted and accompanied by GACK! GACK! GACK! I just figured she liked it and banged her harder and harder. 

"Come on Fanny, Work my dick!" I ordered.

Several times we changed positions, until finally I settled on my back with the sky as my witness. Fanny crouched over my big bad lollipop and addressed the throbbing anguish of my dick with a gentle cock sucking. Her lipstick was deep red and never once faded or left any marks on me. She took in a few inches and then bared her teeth as she attempted to get a further purchase on some more. Her lips would latch on to my meat and stay there while her tongue squirmed around inside. 

She looked really hot but Fanny's problem was, she would never believe it. The way she sucked on my cock, you could be forgiven for thinking I was something she had been dreaming about ever since she could remember. I hastened to think only as far as the last few years however. This was, by all means, the first time she had attempted to seduce me. It was like she was waiting for me, like I was a fruit that had just started to blossom. 

"Mmmm." She giggled.

My legs tightened and I felt an uncontrollable urge to explode, so that's what happened.

"Fannnnnyyy!!!"

I squirted and squirted but she put her hand over the head of my helmet, and then began licking it all off. I got up and shoved her backwards. She lost her balance and landed on her back. I clambered over her and slapped her face with my wet meat pole and kept threatening to seriously harm her. I think this was the first time I realized, that I liked my sex with violence, just like some people liked their fish with chips. 




Misadventures of Stan Ch. 04



With Penelope it was different -- She commanded my respect through her conduct. She was a genuinely decent human being, her only flaw being me. I made her give me what I wanted, even though she hoped she could "rescue me" from my brittle mind. She could never say 'No' to me, because she was the only one I ever really cared about. When she made love to me it was like a thank you from her. 

Now she was gone forever, I was left to recall old sexual encounters. Fanny was the first. I lost my virginity to her but there was something else. I kept it a secret for this long because it never really mattered, but, that day with Fanny was a little bit frightening too. After, I had exhausted her mouth with my dick, I lifted up her skirt and started fucking her pussy. I almost did not care about any foreplay. fanny screamed and yelped as I punished her with my big, long beast of a cock. I tore her a new pussy that day. At the end of it, I shot my load inside of her. Every last drop. The most satisfying thing may have been the sensation of her lips around my dick, but on the ride back home, the knowledge that I had filled her with cum came a close second. 

She never spoke to me again, but she did get pregnant. Only my mother was privy to this, but I wouldn't find out until decades later, that she kept the child. The same girl who had written this letter. Sometimes, when such creatures are old enough, and they recognize that they look nothing like their father, they find out the truth. I think it's rare, but she came looking for me. Fanny was renowned for revealing her darkest secrets in her sleep. 

Anneka was asking for my permission to visit me and I her sensibilities echoed that of a certain other biological kitten. I could not refuse. I wrote back and before i knew it, Anneke was on a plane. Its funny how good things come in two's. It turned out that, at the same time she was on her way here, my beloved daughter appeared at my doorstep with a bump on her stomach. I wondered if it was possible to keep her in the dark about my new European friend, who was technically, my daughter as well. I would play it by ear and see how things developed.

The possibility of Penelope not discovering who Anneke was, seemed low, considering Anneke would quickly reveal herself as my daughter. The only hope was that, she was as German as her letters and without a stitch of English in her bones. She been brought up in an isolated region of Bavaria, so that gave me hope. 

There were a lot of pluses coming out of what looked like a dead end scenario. Penelope had left home twice now and while I was still alive she had no intention of leaving.