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Out the Window Ch. 01

By: Mister_Shy



For a long time Dale thought there was something wrong with him. He thought about girls a lot when he was a kid. And then, no sooner did he hit puberty than he began to masturbate. His problem was his imagination. It was vast, and got him into all kinds of trouble. But what it never failed to deliver was an endless permutation of sexy situations and beautiful vixens sprung fresh from his fantasies, his mother's and later sister's lingerie catalogues, actresses, billboard models, classmates. 

For a long time he thought there was something wrong with him. He masturbated a lot for a kid but slowly (painfully slowly), as he entered his teenage years and started working jobs and driving cars and dating girls, his masturbatory proclivities dimmed some. But then, of course, once he'd started working jobs and driving cars, the dating became much more involved. And the explosiveness of his sexual fantasies collided with his new, dripping reality. 

He liked to imagine that it was simply the hormones in the turbulent air of his high school days that made the sex so glorious in the back of his car (or her father's bed, or the neighborhood pool, or broom closet). Surely women like that didn't exist anymore at his age. But he often looked back fondly on those later years of high school, and then college, despite his fear, that those women were the sultry hellcats he should have married.

What this boils down to is that Dale had sex on the brain at a near perpetual clip from the time he was about eleven onward. There was the rub, if you'll excuse the phrase. When the urge came over him and boiled in his stomach, his chest hot, his fingers tingling and his cock swallowing all the blood in his brain, he just couldn't think of anything else. 

When Dale met his wife he thought she was the same. Or, rather, he wanted to believe she was the same, in their hurried romance as the girl of his best friend. His guilt over their stolen trysts fueled the fire of his passion for more time, more fun, more daring feats of affairs of the heart and whatnot. But many years later when they were married and Mary started putting on weight with their sex life secluded to a pleasant but all too comfortable once a week, Dale realized - too late - that his life had acquired stability at the cost of his libido. Not that his libido went anywhere, mind you. 

For the first months of the later years of their marriage he was catching himself masturbating at every spare moment. At long last, in his late twenties, he finally decided to quit jerking off altogether. It wasn't easy. A week or two would go by without incident and then all of a sudden, Mary out at the gym (infrequently) or shopping, he'd happen upon a scintillating advertisement on the internet or think of his dashing young secretary, Margaret, who was all of twenty-years-old and didn't seem to know how to buy a bra that fit her. And he'd be at it again. 

Things went on this way for a long time. But one year, finally, his dick really exhausted of options, Dale managed to stop touching himself for two months. It was worse than quitting coffee and cigarettes. He still fantasized daily but finally, somehow, with so much progress behind him, he resigned himself to a more controlled existence.

Control. That was the problem. Dale yearned for the days of his youth that popped with the erotic antithesis of control. What he learned how to do with the brash, sexy (no matter how beautiful or ungainly) girls he'd known in the past was useless to him. Maybe he'd never been that upstart Lothario. He started off his marriage resentful of that. But as the years went by and Mary and he began to raise children he understood that it wasn't her fault. Mary didn't have his sex drive. Maybe no one else did. Maybe there had been something wrong with him all along. But he had a job, an office, a beautiful house and a beautiful family, three kids and a dog. And he hardly ever masturbated anymore.

The problem raised its swollen head again when Dale and Mary's eldest, Katie, began to flower into her own womanhood. Even before then Dale would catch her having kisses stolen from her lips by well-intentioned but still trespassing young men. Well-intentioned or not, Katie was too young to be sneaking boys into her room to play doctor. He raised hell and asked where she learned that kind of behavior but she always burst into tears before he could get too angry, and that was that. 

Katie began dating boys in middle school. Because she was an early bloomer there was no end to the slavering grunts that pursued her. But Dale was at least a good enough father to ensure that her mind developed along with her body, and even when he had to drive her to a private tutor to make damn sure she was getting the education her public school couldn't provide he was quizzing her on mathematics, history, English, the whole bit. What he didn't realize he was doing was raising a little girl that would be too clever by half for the boys she would date later in life. But Katie, ever adaptable, ever maturing, was able to put aside her more rational notions when it came to getting what she wanted. She became very good at that.

The problem arose late in Katie's Junior year. She was seventeen, she was beautiful. She had breasts that defied gravity unlike her mother's ever had. Of course Dale didn't know, but to make an educated guess on a light day she might have been a generous B cup, and during that time of the month she edged farther into C's. When she matriculated to college her bosom hovered between those two measurements but her breasts retained such round, fruitful shape that it appeared much larger. Not that Dale noticed. At first. 

The problem did not arise till one very boring game of high school football, Dale sitting in the stands next to his wife. Katie was on the cheer squad, shaking her pom-poms beside the other girls and screaming all of the rah-rah nonsense that came with it. Dale was there to support his daughter and not, despite the proud fathers of the jocks on the field who earnestly quizzed him on how he thought they were doing that year (I gave up masturbation for this? Dale thought to himself). His mind was wandering. He was sleepy. The economy was shit and there had been several lay-offs at the office that Dale had had to perform himself. And he hated it. His superiors had had their fun screwing over everyone at the bottom by outsourcing all but their most important positions (positions) to countries that did it cheaper and faster (faster) and now they were paying the price. As he sat, disgruntled and feeling old (he was in his late thirties), his eyes drifted over the lithe body of one of the girls on the field. They all had their backs to the audience. They were cheering to the boys on the field. One of the girls bent over. Dale saw the elegant swell of her calf, the glistening tan of her skin rising up to the back of her knee and then to the impressive and fleshy tone of her upper thighs. That ass was something else, he thought. He appreciated it. It was the kind of ass a man, if he was so lucky, held on to, tenderly smacked, lovingly kneaded and squeezed. 

He was hard. He watched the slope of the girl's back rise as she raised her arms. Her delicate shoulders lifted her arms up over her blonde head... 

Dale quickly shielded his hard on with his newspaper, not to hide it from the crowd (it was not going anywhere) but from his wife. He suddenly realized, staring at the back of the girl's curly blonde head, that there were only three natural blondes on the cheer squad. And two of them were twins and a good foot shorter than his Katie.

He had, unwittingly, been fantasizing about the back of his daughter's young body. He was embarrassed, guilty. Horribly depressed, really. But that was the problem. He was still turned on.

After that it became difficult to unsee what he had seen. In the morning, boiling up a pot of necessary coffee, Dale caught glimpses of his daughter just awake. They were both early risers. Her brothers slept until the afternoon if they could and her mother until eight. But Katie was up not long after him, wiping the sleep from her eyes and padding into the kitchen in her bare feet, a long shirt drawn over her body that now, Dale was sad to see, was too small to shield anything below her upper thighs from his curious eyes. He hadn't really appreciated those long, toned legs until that night on the field. Now she was striding towards him, smiling her sleepy smile, upper lip so delicately upturned and slightly smaller than her full, pouted lower lip. She had an upturned, rounded nose like her mother and winter blue eyes like her grandmother. And golden curls that shimmered in any kind of light, dirty or freshly shampooed. 

"Morning, Daddy," she'd say, and peck him on the cheek, and steal his coffee. Until this morning, he swore, he'd never felt the heavy caress of her breasts underneath her loose cotton top. It was the heavy softness of full breasts freed from a bra, the way a girl sleeps when she is alone and doesn't realize how soft the skin around her ribs and nipples are, and how they titillate any man, anywhere, any time.

That first morning after Dale saw Katie and could not unsee the woman she had become, that first morning, in lieu of coffee, he went quietly to the downstairs bathroom and masturbated. It would be inaccurate to say he knew just what he was fantasizing. It had been so long since he'd jerked off that it didn't take much at all really. But it is with absolute certainty that he saw Katie's face in his mind, surprised, shocked, upper lip slightly raised and her eyes wide, as he came forcefully against the back of the toilet seat. In his mind, Katie was ashamed of him. And in his mind, that shame fucked his impertinent lust until it begged for mercy and more in the same breath. Dale let off an overwhelming sigh.

For two years then he masturbated very infrequently. There was one year, her first year back from college, that Katie paraded around their backyard in a tight camo bikini and Dale almost lost it right there. He tried to encourage his wife to have sex with him but she was tired very often these days (or at least claimed to be), and submitted to his urges only reluctantly. Dale hated it. Once women had told him he made them horny - or at least he remembered they did. It was too long ago now! Now he had to cajole his wife into bed with him (because heaven forbid they make it anywhere else) and by that time he was so turned off by the affair that he seldom grew more than half hard, came weakly, she weakest of all, and they tidied up and showered and went back to their respective businesses. From early on in their marriage Dale had vigorously applied himself to physical exercise. He lifted weights. He ran. He did anything he could to obliterate the whirling lust inside him. To the misfortune of no one but himself, he realized he was in better shape at 39 than he'd ever been as a young man.

He was seriously contemplating stepping out. Maybe his twenty-year-old secretary with the loose cleavage and easy laugh. Maybe an old friend from college...

The problem returned when Katie returned. It was her college's winter break. Robert, her brother, was back as well and excited to tell his folks all about the college life. Katie was in an Ivy League university on nearly a full scholarship and too pleased to be away from constantly cramming to even mention school. For most of the week she was a mere phantom, flitting in and out of their home to do laundry and share dinner but just as quickly gone until the early morning hours from reminiscing with friends and not being too drunk to drive home. It was during one of these very late nights, sometime between eleven and two am, that Dale was staring into the refrigerator and wondering when he would ever manage to sleep like a normal person.

The sound of the key in the front door did not startle him. He was glad Katie was home and knew that if there were any boys under her sway she was too smart to let him in through the front. (He had caught the little nymph sneaking a boy into her window sometime in her sophomore year. Since then he didn't know where she kept them.) The sound of his daughter's heels rapped loudly in their foyer. Dale leaned back from the refrigerator to look into the main hall that opened into their living room. He briefly let out a relaxed groan as the cool air hit his abdominals (brutal hours at the gym did wonders for sublimating his baser urges). Katie caught his eye silently as she perched on one leg and undid the straps on her platform sandals. She let the sandal drop (louder than she intended), then uncurled her beautiful leg to stand and repeat the process with her other. She smiled at him. 

She put her purse and coat on the table with her keys and crept to him on her toes. The soft carpet muffled her steps but she was pretending to be stealthy. He shook his head and returned to his survey of the refrigerator.

"You're still up," she whispered into his ear.

"Mmhm," he grunted.

"Are you mad at me?" she pouted at him.

"Mm-mm," he grunted.

"Oh, DA-ddy," she teased, tugging at his shoulders. She pressed herself against him in her shimmering top and hung from his back. He felt her chest nestle softly under his armpit. "You're not hungry," she chided him.

"No," he sighed. "Just can't sleep." His daughter giggled. He turned to her. Her luminous eyes shined up at him, lovingly, her face flushed and tinged with humor. She had been drinking, a little. He could also smell it on her breath, which she knew; but she knew he knew. "What's funny?" he said.

"Nothing," she said, biting her tongue between her front teeth. That expression always made him want to grab her and squeeze her until she relented in her teases. And were she younger, he younger, he would have. But Katie was as much a woman now as his secretary—bad thought. That wouldn't have been respectful. Of course he didn't know that she wanted him to.

Dale shut the fridge. His hand still on the door, he planted his fist at his hip. He knew he looked ridiculous but he was her father after all. He probably looked ridiculous when he was clean shaven wearing a suit and briefcase. Right now he was wearing a forest green and black plaid robe that draped to the floor, and matching pajamas (matching in that they were plaid, not in that they were bright red). He was not, however, wearing a shirt. His hair was turning slightly gray on his chest, which he rather enjoyed. Katie was staring at his gray hair now. Then her eyes traveled down to his stomach.

"Wow," she said.

Suddenly self-conscious, he looked down. "What? Is the flap open?"

Katie giggled at him again. "No," she said. "But I see you've been hitting the gym harder than usual."

He grinned suavely. "Well, sweetheart, remember that to look like this, 'than usual' is just in the last four months since you've seen me."

"Yeah, but," his daughter went on, "you were always at the gym before. I guess now it's just, uh..." She drifted off. "Could I have some water?" she asked.

"Can't you get your own water?" She pouted at him again. He shook his head and got a glass from the cupboard and filled it at the tap. He didn't know what time it was. It was so still time seemed to glance over them. Katie was wearing a short, black shimmering skirt. Her little toes on the kitchen tile were red from dancing. When he handed her her glass he asked, "Did you have a good time tonight?"

She took the water with a murmur of gratitude and gulped it immediately. When she finished she let out a refreshed gasp and smiled again. Ignoring his question completely, she asked, "Dad, do you know Vanessa Linares?"

He didn't have to think about it. Dale knew Vanessa Linares very well. He had fucked her eight ways to Sunday off and on throughout college. He thought he was in love with her at one time. Then she got married to her boyfriend who—apparently—she'd been dating since high school. He wasn't invited to the wedding. But there was no way his daughter meant that Vanessa Linares.

"Actually, I did know a girl named Vanessa Linares," he said, trying to be vague. His daughter glowered at him.

"I know when you're lying, Daddy."

"Oh?" he said.

"Mmhm," she murmured from her next sip. "Don't pretend."

"Not pretending," he told her. "I just highly doubt that your Vanessa Linares and my Vanessa Linares are the same people."

"Well she's definitely your Vanessa Linares and she's my Social Policy professor."

If Dale had been drinking the water he would have spat it out in classic cinematic fashion.

Katie went on, "We're really close. Sometimes we go for drinks at the bar on campus and she asked me about my last name." Katie grinned like a cheshire cat. "She remembers you very fondly."

Dale was pleased. "You don't say."

"Yeah." Katie drifted off again. Her eyes kept flicking from his face to his chest as if he wasn't watching her watch him.

Suddenly he understood. "You and Vanessa drink together?"

Katie smiled into her now empty glass. "Sometimes, yeah. She told me some stories about you."

Dale was inexplicably nervous. And probably explicably turned on. "Oh?" he tried to feign nonchalance.

Katie giggled at him again. "I told you I know when you're lying. You want to know what she said."

"I know what we did."

"Well I know a little about that too."

Dale laughed. But what she said next stopped him cold.

"She said all it took to get you to drop everything was a wet, sloppy blowjob."

Dale didn't know what to say. He stared at his daughter. Katie had her arms crossed over her chest, the glass pressed against her upper arm. She broke the silence. "I was kind of thinking about it."

What did she mean?

"Dad, do you and mom have sex?"

"Katie, I don't know what—"

"Come ON, Dad." She strode to him and let him catch her as she draped her arms over him. She was sleepy, staring up at him. "Don't pretend I'm too young to hear the truth."

"Well," he said. How did one proceed in this conversation? "Well," he said again. And finally, "No, Katie, your mother and I don't really have sex that much anymore."

Katie stared up at him with something akin to sympathy and something very much like loneliness. "Vanessa said you kind of had a reputation at college."

"What kind of repu—"

"She said you fucked. A lot." Katie smirked. "And that you were very...gifted."

Dale's head swam. He became intensely aware of his daughter's breasts pressed against his chest. She continued, "And I was thinking about that. I kind of couldn't stop because, um, you're my dad? But, I was thinking how I never thought of you that way. Mostly because," she looked at him intensely, "I don't think I ever heard you having sex. With mom."

"Katie, I don't think this is appropriate."

"OK," she said. "So you and mom don't have sex?"

"Katie—"

"But you used to have a lot of sex back in the day."

"It wasn't 'back in the day'—"

"And now you just don't have sex at all?"

"Katie—"

"That sounds like it really sucks, Dad."

He stared down at his daughter. Her eyes flitted over his, over his cheeks, over his nose, his ears. Her face was flushed. Suddenly he felt her heart ramming against her breasts and beating on his ribcage; he felt his own heart pounding.

"I love you," she said to him.

"I love you, too, honey."

"Uh huh," she breathed up at him. "I'm sorry you don't have sex anymore."

"Oh, Katie—"

"I said it sucks. Does it suck?" She pronounced the word in a very deliberate way. He started to say something but she reached down and grabbed him in a place—the exact place—that was eternally off-limits. "Does it suck, Daddy?"

"Katie!" He pushed her back. She set her glass on the table and giggled again.

"Sorry, Daddy," she said. "I think I've had a little too much to drink."


Out the Window Ch. 01



"Yeah," he said, so rattled he had to keep himself from swaying.

"Good night," she said and before he knew it he was watching her ass shimmy down the hall. Dale picked her glass off the table and raised it to his nose. He sniffed at the glass, and smelled her breath. 



Out the Window Ch. 02



The next night was a family night. Robert would be leaving for school the next evening and Katie would leave the day after that. So the family was gathered in the living room and watching something, Dale wasn't really sure what. Katie elected to sit next to him on the couch in front of the television. The way their living room was constructed, a large plaster pillar was smack dab in the middle of their space. To the right of the couch and diagonal from the television was the second couch. Robert was sitting on the floor against the couch and Mary was sitting on the opposite, already very close to drifting off. From where Dale was sitting he could barely see either of them around the pillar.

Katie came downstairs in gym shorts and a loose undershirt. She planted a kiss on his cheek and pulled the quilts out of the closet. She draped one happily over her mother and then took the second and laid it across Dale's lap and her own.

"It's not really cold enough for that," he told her. She nuzzled lovingly against his shoulder and shushed him.

"I want to cuddle," she said stubbornly. He sighed. His daughter nestled against him, placing both hands on his arm and molding her body against his. He smelled her conditioner and tried to blot out last night. He chalked it up to a weird concoction of late nights and drinking and...Hell, he thought. He'd been unable to sleep for the majority of that night. Even her warm skin and thighs, which were drawn up against his leg, gave him trouble. But he put it out of his mind. As the movie started to play he found himself, lulled by the rhythmic breathing of his daughter, the insensate plot of the drama, and the warmth of the quilt, to a soft, sudden sleep.

He was hard. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming... He felt awake. But that sensation... 

He was hard. He was so hard. And soft, wet warmth caressed his dick. It dribbled down from his cockhead and struck his balls. It pooled in his tangled pubic hair until thick moisture ran down his inner thighs. It was wet. A groan forced its way from deep inside his throat. And he was hard. A stark mind boggling suction lanced over his shaft. Out flitted an insistent lick—that was it, it was a lick! It trailed from the head of his penis down to the base of his shaft and lovingly gave way as a slick, muscular softness embraced him and sunk him thickly against folds of warm flesh. When it retracted a new softness, one of skin, bumped against the base of his dick. It was a chin, he realized, and his penis was suddenly coated with a thick sheen of saliva.

He woke with a start. A hand pressed against his chest frantically. It was the touch of someone telling him to keep back. He looked down. Delicate fingers, well manicured. The fingers clutched at his chest. Sparks shot in front of his eyes. He saw the television. What was happening? Then a slick, rolling slurp alerted him to his lap. His dick slid down someone's throat.

Katie was just a hump under the quilt. She was bent at the waist, her head hidden from view, and squeezing his thigh with her right hand. Her shorts had ridden up her ass from bending over him until they were wedged up her smooth crack. Her left hand was pressed to his chest to keep him reclined. And she was working on him. Hell, the girl was going to town on his cock. 

He could feel her saliva mixing with his precum underneath the quilt. She had unzipped his pants and the front of them were soaked from sweat and spit and cum. His whole body shook. He didn't want to stop her—for so many reasons—but not least of which was the knowledge that if he pulled her away he knew he would have to see his baby girl's chin and lips coated in his slime, her mouth glistening with the moist fruit of her ministrations. Katie was sucking his cock and making sure she let none of it escape his notice. She wanted him to feel her lick and slurp and fuck him with her mouth. How had this happened? Dear God, he couldn't let this go on!

He stared at the pillar. If Robert was awake he hadn't noticed. He could hear her mother snoring on the couch. Stars behind his eyes.

He reeled back. He was going to cum. He was going to cum hard. Dale grabbed his daughter by the collar but she snatched his wrist in a murderous death grip. She started to bob her head faster. Oh God. He heard her trying to breathe and blow him at the same time.

"Katie—" he tried to whisper. Her hand released his wrist and snaked back to his chest. He was already unconsciously fucking up into her mouth. "No, Katie, I'm going t—" he tried desperately to tell her. Katie felt up his chest until she could draw her fingertips up his neck. Then her little fingers were at his mouth. He couldn't help himself. He took her fingers into his mouth and started to suck on them. This encouraged her and Dale watched as his beautiful daughter bent over his quilted body and proceeded to fellate him with a furious lust. Her breasts were squashed against his right leg. Even through her loose shirt and his pajama bottoms he could feel her hard nipples jutting out like diamonds. Katie's boobs were of just the perfect weight and resilience to roll against his body. He drew his hands over her back, feeling the curled muscles underneath her skin. He was her father but he couldn't help it. His dick, his legs, his body, his brain, all were given up to the overpowering essence of everything wrong and sexual and overheated about the moment. There had to be something wrong with him if he couldn't resist this!

"Katie—" he tried one last time before exploding in her mouth. His daughter jerked back but quickly got her mouth back around his cock. He grunted. Katie started to swallow his seed but it came spurt after spurt. He came furiously, with an unbearable squeezing that seemed to drain all the tension, emotion, frustration, rage away from him. And still he spurted and Katie gulped and drew her fingers from his mouth. She reached under the quilt and gripped his cock. This sent a buzz of renewed intensity down his spine. She began to jerk him off into her mouth, emptying him of everything left. He heard and felt her gag briefly, such was the volume of his semen. He felt her breasts shudder against him. But still she pressed on, milking his fluid from him until his engorged dick stopped twitching. 

His little girl knew what she was doing. With her right hand she massaged his balls (seemed even to delight in feeling them jerk and pump his spunk up through the bulging vein in his cock). But he was still hard. So she lapped at him, lapped at his stiff prick. She masturbated him into her sweet little mouth as if that was her mortal purpose. New driblets of semen were coaxed from his body. He was so sensitive he wanted to tell her to stop. But he couldn't tell her to stop. His cock stood straight up from his lap. Under the quilt, her golden curls shielded from his view, she lapped at him like a thirsty kitten.

He realized it wasn't going to go down.

The madness began. This was the state of frenzy he devolved to when his body suddenly caught a whiff of sex. This was what he had been afraid of for so many years: his overriding lust overriding all common sense (and in this case, filial decency). His dick knew better than him what it would take to put the demon down. It would take nothing less than an extraordinary fuck inside a hot, tight pussy that tingled to his every thrust.

And sadly, that pussy had as much to do with his wife as salad on flapjacks.

At length, after a several tentative strokes, Katie extruded his dick from her mouth. He wanted to look away but he couldn't. He watched her grab the quilt, softly shrug it over her head, and come up for air.

Her eyes were shining, wet. Her face and skin were flushed, her hair matted at the top where she had bowed beneath the quilt. A long string of white, translucent semen trailed from her lip to her chin and down, down, the last evidence of their incest. She smiled at him in a devilish, teasing way and happily planted a kiss on his stubbled cheek. He felt the semen trail off her kiss. Her lips and cheeks were smeared with his sexual fluids and sweat. Then she winked at him, set her little feet on the carpet, and stretched dramatically. Speechless, Dale could only watch as her shirt rode up her taut belly and exposed her midriff—almost but not quite to the bountiful curve of her breasts.

Then she stood and announced, "Alright, folks. That's it for me. Guess I'll go to sleep."

She strode in front of him (was she wiggling her ass or did she always walk like that?) and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "G'night, daddy," she murmured. Then she was gone.



Out the Window Ch. 03



Dale sat with the quilt in his lap and his son still watching the television. His wife was sound asleep on the opposite couch. His daughter was tromping up the stairs, young and limber and her stomach full of her father's seminal juice. He suddenly wished he could have seen his daughter's head bobbing on his prick, actually observed her full, pink lips lovingly wrapped around his balls, lightly gagging as she took him deep into the back of her throat.

His dick suddenly and painfully reminded him that it was still ramrod straight and twitching beneath the quilt.

He had to make a choice.

No, there was no choice. He'd take his wife to bed. If he couldn't convince her to let him fuck her he'd... no... he could jerk off. Of course. He could do it right now, even. He could slip off to the kitchen bathroom and... It was pathetic, he thought. But there was no choice. He couldn't... follow Katie. How could he ever look at her again without... He couldn't think about it.

Getting up and keeping the quilt pressed firmly against his waist, he went over to the couch.

"Your mother asleep?" he asked his son.

Robert absently looked over his shoulder. "Yeah, I think she's been out for a while."

"Honey," Dale called to his wife. "Babe, let's get you to bed."

His wife stirred. "Nn?" Dale took her hand to lead her to her feet but she resisted. Sighing, he reached down and hooked his arms under his wife's knees and back. He lifted her easily and pinned her body against the quilt, then pushed with his knees and sauntered towards the stairs. He called back to his boy not to stay up too late. He got some sort of muted acknowledgment in return.

Dale carried his wife up the stairs and let the quilt drop once he reached the top. The head of his dick squelched into the small of his wife's back and she made an uncomfortable noise and tried to shift in his grasp. The smeared front of his pants were uncomfortable, but it was easily ignored by the stew of conflicts inside of him. It wasn't his fault, he thought, she did it in his sleep. Of course it was his fault, he didn't talk to her this morning about what she'd said last night—set boundaries. No, Dale, he berated himself, you fucked up when you came in her mouth.

Once he emptied his wife onto the bed she quickly found the pillows and covers and burrowed down. He tried to coax her awake. "Hon," he tried (he really did), "babe, I've got a..." What did he have? A monstrous desire to fuck their eldest, beautiful daughter? "Babe," he said again, shaking her weakly. He stared down at his prick. It stared right back at him.

He had to do something. He felt the blood pound through his thighs. He felt his heart pumping blood across his arms and shoulders, thunder in his head. Everything seemed to give off a misty heat until he wrapped his hand around his daughter's brass doorknob and realized it was him. Dale turned the knob and swept the door back.

Katie's bed was wedged into the right corner of her room, lengthwise against the half-open window that gazed over the backyard and its midnight trees. At her bed stand there was one dim lamp burning. Katie had changed out of her shorts. She lay on her stomach facing towards the window, tapping at her laptop and bobbing her feet in the air. Her knees were right up against the edge of the bed. Her little toes played with each other as they swayed back and forth. He looked down. His daughter's round ass shined between the lamp and the moonlight; her shirt had ridden up to her lower back and he could see...everything. She wasn't wearing panties. Katie's pink, slippery vagina peeked from between her thighs. Dale nearly groaned aloud at the pain in his groin.

Instead, he called her name. "Katie," he tried. He took a step inside and closed the door behind him. Could she not hear him? "Katie," he called again, more insistently. "We need to talk." He was less than a foot away from her now. The bed was high and its mattress came to just below his waist. When he looked down, because he could not keep his eyes off his daughter's pale, naked buttocks, he saw the large, dark stain on her evening blue comforter. It glistened against the light of her lamp and spread out from beneath her thighs. He shifted his gaze an inch and saw the light glint off her labia. His daughter wasn't wet; she was flowing.

Katie continued to type on the laptop, chatting with friends, he could see—though he couldn't tell what about. She knew he was there. She was ignoring him. But her feet had stopped bobbing absently. Now her toes pressed tightly together. Her whole body, in fact, seemed unnaturally still. Dale reached out—he couldn't help it—and placed his hands on his daughter's plump ass cheeks. Katie didn't make a sound. Her shins pressed against his hard torso; her feet dug at his shoulder. They shook against his skin like young branches in a wind. 

Katie stopped typing as her father ran his fingers over her right cheek. He was thinking of the first time he'd admired her butt, caught up under the lustful fluorescence of her cheerleading skirt. Skittishly, he glanced up at her head. She still faced away from him, rigid as a board, the light from her computer screen blue and harsh against her thick curls. He squeezed her with both hands. 

His left hand came up to his shoulder where he gripped the sole of her foot. He trailed his fingers down her ankle, loving the hot suppleness of her skin, entranced by the twitching shudder that ran through her body as his palms slid up the back of her knee and gripped the strong flesh between her thigh and buttock. Katie made a very deep whimper that was almost a grunt. He'd never heard his daughter make that noise before. He could feel it originate somewhere inside her belly, maybe deeper. "Katie," he said, but he wasn't sure to whom.

Dale leaned forward with muscular passion—his daughter not understanding or afraid, pulled forward—and gripped her hip, pushed his fingers underneath her body, seeking, until his middle finger slipped into the delicate depression of her bellybutton. Katie whimpered again. Dale drew his fingers straight down from there, his body hunched over her, his eyes drinking in the elegant line of Katie's spine. His finger kept drifting. They stopped at the round cliff of her clitoral hood. Dale raised his eyes from his daughter's back and looked at the only place he could look: Katie's computer screen.

She was chatting with a friend. By the screenname it was her longtime best friend Alicia. They'd been chatting since Katie had come upstairs but the last lines made him freeze. On the screen it read:

Katie88honey: had a crazy dream last nite

2006Alicia: wut?

Katie88honey: sleeping and my father came into my room and fucked me.

2006Alicia: omg. thats so gross!!!

Katie88honey: actually it was kind of hot

2006Alicia: rlly?

Katie88honey: hold on. brb

2006Alicia: yer ddad is pretty hot. LOl. j/k

His daughter bowed her head so that he could see. He bowed his head too now and exhaled against her neck. Katie backed up on the bed until he felt her bottom pressed against his manhood. Without thinking Dale slid his hands from her pubes up her flexed stomach and into her shirt until...at last... he cupped Katie's heavy tit. Katie moaned and it sounded like a growl. Her breast was so distinct and round in his hand. And pert, he realized—the nipples jutted up rather than straight forward and this one was pointed into his palm. It was hard.

He pulled his hand out of his daughter's shirt and gripped her hip forcefully. He drew his right hand off her ass and gripped the right hip. He finally found his voice. "Katie... Katie, why did you..." He glanced down to the place where his daughter's vagina met the comforter. It was soaked.

He couldn't believe how hot she was. He couldn't believe how hard he was. As his face sunk closer and closer to her ass he tried to come up with any reason his body would respect for leaving, now, and forgetting this. "Katie, your father has to talk to you," he said.

Katie at last said, "Nnh-hmm," but that was only just before his lips touched her vulva and she whipped her head back like she'd been electrocuted. Reflexively she strained to her knees and forward but his fingers were like a vice on her ass and he dug in and he pressed his tongue against his little girl's streaming pussy.

She was sweet. It was utterly unlike any pussy he could remember eating. She tasted sweet, incredibly tangy, and it was pouring into his mouth. Her reflexes jerked her pelvis into a swift 180 and Katie was now mashing her vagina into his face, feeding him her pussy while making no sound at all. That was peculiar because every inch of her toned skin seemed to be rippling now with the force of his hungry suckling. It was only when he took a breath and stood back on his feet that he realized Katie was bent over her mattress, ass up in the air, hands and face pressed into the far side of the bed. She was biting the bed to keep from screaming.

He grabbed her ass forcefully and pulled her to him. She came haltingly, making him reel her in. His pants hit the floor. Dale's dick was thick. Red. Stiff. Swelling. He smelled his daughter's vaginal juice strongly on his upper lip.

"Katie, please talk to me," he said. "Please make me stop."

He watched Katie shake beneath him. In response she lowered her head and stuck her ass up to him. It was almost obscene. He could see her delicate little asshole. Her toned cheeks stuck straight at him. But there, beneath them, was her quivering pussy and everything inside of him needed desperately to be inside of her. He watched her lay her hands on either side of her head, as if in supplication. The laptop had been batted to the far edge near her pillow. Alicia probably wondered where Katie was. Was she about to be fucked by her father?

He couldn't do this. His fingers raked the skin of his daughter's ass and she bobbed rhythmically against his touch. There was something very primal in the way she moved—not speaking—offering her body up to him as if either he or she or both needed only to surrender to this. But this was wrong. This was her beautiful body and mind and it was his daughter for heaven's sake!

"Katie, I—" He needed to empty his seed so badly. He looked down at her curly blonde head. Her big shirt had crumpled down her back and rested against her shoulder blades. Under her sides he could see her beautiful breasts squashed against the mattress. Her knees, once tucked under her, were now resting against the mattress, her calves and feet sticking over the sides of the bed, on either side of him. Dale groaned. He grabbed her ass forcefully and Katie gave a little shriek of relief. His penis now shuddered just inches from her...

His dick was literally sucked inside his daughter's pussy. The head of his cock barely brushed against her slit before it glided between her vaginal curtain. The walls of her sex coaxed him inside with a velvety hot ooze. He felt her clench around his dick. Katie came in the exact instant that her father penetrated her. Her words were swallowed by her guttural orgasm.

When he shut his eyes he realized her bed was squeaking and shaking. He was fucking his daughter. Yet all he heard from her was heavy breathing and long, rattling whimpers. His eyes snapped open. He watched his penis slide in and out of that tight pussy. Katie's ass was gripped in both of his palms and he was pushing her down into the mattress so that her legs flopped up and down and banged against his thighs. Katie was grunting into the mattress and her little hands were gripping her breasts.

"Anh. Katie. God. Katie—"

Katie screamed into a pillow as he laid his first smack on her rump. Dale left another red hand print on his daughter's quivering flesh. It was all his little girl could do to keep from shouting for more. Her father was easily the biggest man she'd ever fucked and his dick was the thickest she'd ever allowed inside of her. Every time he entered her she felt filled, and the guilt he surely felt culminated in a tantric penetration that curled her toes until she finally had to arch her back and release a wounded, "Aaaawwwuuunnnhhhh... d-daddy..."

"Katie, I'm sorry," she heard him say. She smirked to herself. Her father apologized to her while his hand was pumped her ass and his fat cock was buried in her cunt. She was sure he was real sorry. Dale's hands roved over the flesh of her ass as if he were addicted to the springiness of her flesh. She'd never had a man pay so much attention to just the texture of her skin. It was usually her breasts, her tits. But no. Her father lovingly squeezed her thighs, gripped her round, solid buttocks and then smoothly slipped his fingers over the small of her back. 

Katie wiggled her pelvis and gasped when he clutched at her hips. She wanted him to cum in her. Since Vanessa had revealed all the tawdry details of her father's sordid desires she'd thought of her father's semen constantly. She wanted to feel him ejaculate inside of her. She wanted her father's seed inside her womb. It was the ultimate taboo. And she never thought he'd really do it. Her father as a sexual figure was a far-off fantasy, something he'd never do to her. Yet...the moment she'd shook him to see if he was asleep she knew she couldn't keep herself from investigating his cock, finding it rigid in his sleep, and then sliding it down her throat.

She shivered with a new arousal of oncoming orgasm when she remembered the feeling of her father's sperm hitting the back of her throat. She moaned as she thought of swallowing it. She had! (Her father was hitting every nerve in her vagina now.) How many other places would he want to cum? Would he be so bold as to violate her...? No, not even daddy would be so depraved.

She surprised herself by cumming again. Even Dale felt the new wave of fluid gush over his penis. 

"Are you cumming, Katie?" He sounded inspired.

"Isn't this what you wanted, daddy?" he heard her groan. "Am I a woman now, daddy?"

She felt his thrusts tingle up her spine. "Katie, agh, I'm...I'm going to cum..."

Katie could feel him at his hardest. She was fascinated by her father. Everything below his waist was a force of nature and hard as hot iron. Above, the way he bent over her, the way he lovingly stroked the skin of her back, dabbled just a little over the pucker of her asshole. The man deserved his fuck.

"Do it, daddy," she told him obediently.

"No, Katie." Dale sped up the pace of his thrusts. He tried to will himself to stop.

"It's okay," she cooed to him. "Do it. Fill me. I want you to..." Even now the force of his dick was driving her against her dark blue mattress and running painful friction over her sensitive nipples. The house was freezing but the sound of their sex took on a wet juiciness as the sweat streamed from them both (and especially where his sex met hers).

She was shocked when he pulled out of her. Dale retreated, his eyes glued to his shaft as it slipped inch by glistening inch from his daughter's flushed vagina. He watched his Katie crumple forward to her unsteady knees. He heard her gasp.

"Why, daddy?" she mewed. "Please put it back in."

His dick felt like the blood was screaming in his veins. Savagely, he snatched his daughter by the hips and ground his dick into the crack of her ass. Her sweaty cleft took his shaft easily and he was now shoving it back and forth, both hands squeezing her cheeks together over his cock.

Katie panted as she giggled. "You love my ass, don't you, daddy?"

Dale groaned. "It's perfect," he admitted. Up and down. He watched the wet skin of his prick grind over his daughter's buttocks.

"Are you going to cum on me?"

"Can I, Katie?"

"Of course, daddy... of course, daddy..." She lowered her head and bucked her hips in time with his thrusts. "Do you want my mouth?"

"Oh..."

"Do you want your little girl to eat your cum...?"

"Why are you doing this?"

"Why ask why?" she chided.

Without asking permission she slunk forward. She left his dick hanging in the air as she languidly turned around, let him drink in every angle of the beautiful litheness that was her toned and trained physique. She delighted in the way her breasts drooped heavily from her chest, distorting their shape from round globes into thick, pendulous teardrops. Katie let him watch, knowing he was hypnotized. Then she completed the circle. Like a cat, she crept to the edge of her bed. Lovingly, she let his cockhead glide against her chin and batted her eyes up at the man that was her father. She whispered, "feed me, daddy..." and puckered her lips. She let her jaws fall open and closed her eyes. Her tongue, like a bright red berry, slithered forward to accept his penis. Dale placed his hands on her luminous golden head.

"Katie..." In that moment Dale was transfixed by the unholy beauty of his daughter. He watched, half in horror and wholly in ecstasy as he pushed his hips forward and slipped the dick between Katie's lips. "Suck it," he told her. She complied. Katie closed her mouth around his cock and gently accepted it. He pushed forward. Her brow furrowed but she let him continue. He pushed forward. He felt the resistance of his daughter's throat give way and the moist delight of her muscular tongue massage the base of his shaft. A part of him died and sprang to life anew as he half forced his daughter to bury her nose in his pubic hair. As she took his entire length into her throat, Dale announced, "I'm going to Hell!"

In response, Katie smiled and gagged. A rain of saliva poured from the corner of her mouth.

"I'm going to fuck your mouth," Dale told her. Katie still had her eyes shut. "Tell me if it hurts. I don't want to hurt you, baby."

Katie pulled her mouth off her father's shaft and gripped it in her left hand. She opened her eyes and gazed at him. "You're not going to fuck my mouth, papa." She jerked him hard. The look on her face was insane. "Do you really want to fuck your little girl's mouth?"

He pulled his dick from her hand and grabbed her cheeks. He bent over and planted a forceful kiss on her mouth. She kissed him back, eager for more, eager to be treated as his sexual partner. "Are you happy?" she gasped between kisses.

"You're exactly what I needed," he told her.

"Oh, put it back inside me, daddy."

"You want it in your pussy, baby?"

"Oh, yes, daddy."

"I can't do that."

"Then feed me."

He reeled back. He grabbed her head and forced his dick between her lips. She never broke eye contact. "Katie, I'm going to cum." She stared up at her father as his dick slipped in and out of her pink lips. "Katie, I'm going to cum..." Already the base of his dick was beginning to spasm. "Katie, you can tell me to stop..." It was going to happen. He was going to shoot it down her throat. "Tell me to stop, baby."

In response Katie closed her eyes and reached up. She grabbed the base of his dick with one hand. With the other she cradled his balls. And that was how, Dale forced to grip his daughter's shoulders for support, Katie coaxed his cum out of his body. It came with a savage force. It ejaculated from his head, his daughter furiously pumping his shaft into her mouth. He came and he came and his eyes blurred. But not so much that he could not see the excess spunk drip from Katie's mouth. He wanted to see her swallow it. Dale wanted to watch his daughter force his dick further down her throat so that she had no choice but to accept it into her body. Which she did. And the sound that Dale made was one building for over eighteen years. It was an animal groan, one of a mighty torrent smashing the pathetic dams of decency and restraint and he shoved his body forward so that his daughter had to let go of his penis and hold on to the back of his legs. She gagged.

But then he heard her swallow it. He heard his daughter gulp him down. His Katie, future valedictorian and hottest body their town had ever let slip from its sheets, gripped the back of his legs with a domineering strength and sucked the cum from her father's cock. They stayed like that for lingering seconds. The monstrosity of their taboo suddenly rose from them in stinking heat. The sweat on both their bodies glistened in the dim light of her bedside lamp. Dale's hands were dug into his daughter's back. Her white, manicured fingers drew blood from his toned ass cheeks. He stared down at her flaring nostrils as she inhaled the thick musk of his pubic carpet, eyes locked into his stomach, her jaw relaxing and throat greedily accepting what so endlessly flowed from its bulging vein. He wanted to pull back. He wanted to say no. But he was still cumming. And his daughter wanted it all.




Out the Window Ch. 03



Even after he was spent she kept him in her mouth. She dutifully licked and sucked at his penis until it was a soft, slumbering shadow of itself. Then she released it and gave it a cute, playful lick. She turned to her father, crouched on the edge of the mattress, hands splayed over her knees, sloppy grin beaming to the ceiling.

Dale reached down and took his daughter up into his arms. She came limply, given over to the solidity of his arms. She curled up to his chest and wrapped her weak thighs over his hips as he rested her dripping bottom in his palm and kissed her streaming eyes and nose. "Thank you," he whispered. He whispered it again and again.

Gradually she rubbed her nose up his neck, up beneath the firm line of his jaw. "How do you feel?"

He crushed her to his chest with a newfound vitality borne from relief. Unbeknownst to him he'd squeezed his daughter's clitoris, engorged and raw, over his hip bone and she gave a tremulous squeak of painful passion. "Careful, daddy," she panted. "I'm still..."

Dale was flabbergasted. "You are a chip off the old block, aren't you?" He gently set her down on her mattress, on her back, and dipped his head.

"What...?" he heard her half-conscious moan as his tongue gave a new, tentative lick to her pussy. "Oh, noooo," she sighed, arching her back. "There's no way you can... nobody's ever..." She dug her heel into her mattress and let her fists fall back weakly against her pillow. "Daddy. Stop. It's too sensitive. I'm..." She gasped and her eyes drove widely to the ceiling's sudden carousel of colors. She slammed her thighs together like a bear trap.

Dale went on softly. He'd learned this over a lifetime of wanting to please women. He knew his daughter had one more orgasm waiting to be released. He could sense it by the way her toes curled and her lower body opened to him, now unconcerned with letting her sphincter and belly stay tight. If he was gentle, if he didn't force it, she might just...

"You man..." was all Katie could breathe. Sure she'd wanted to fuck her father. She admitted that to herself now. Sure she'd let him cum down her throat. Twice! She'd prefer his ejaculate somewhere her mother couldn't find it, she guessed. But to think he'd be as giving as....her back buckled and she felt herself hit her pillow without muscle control. Oh my god, she suddenly thought, I'm going to have an indecent bodily function. "St-stop..." she whispered half-heartedly. She tried to hold back but she couldn't. Her father didn't seem to mind. He was down there dancing his mouth over her private parts and she suddenly, angrily realized no boy had ever done it right before. Katie was gripped by an urge to force her father to fuck her again—but while she highly doubted his dick could become so stiff again so quickly, she was absolutely certain that the trauma to her raw vagina would be less than negotiable. With both hands now she reached for his bristly hair and ran her fingers over his scalp. Tears were almost in her eyes—why did it have to be her father?

Suddenly—she wasn't sure what or where it came from—his tongue tapped a hidden spring. There was a ping inside her and she felt all of her fluid rush away. She ripped her shirt the rest of the way off her body and massaged her tits, grabbed her own stomach, tried to squeeze her father's ears together like a lemon. "It's..." she groaned.

Her father hummed into her pussy.

"It's...." Katie rocked back and forth, her damp sheets clinging to her ass. "Don't stop," she pleaded. 

Dale suckled, just a little, on her clit.

"Don't stop," Katie said, her face catatonic, her eyes wide, the ceiling an endless blank in her vision.

Slathering his middle finger in the copious puddle of her juice, Dale gently slipped his finger up into the relaxed button of her asshole. And then he blew on, and kissed, her clit. 

Katie screamed. Katie rolled back and forth and came with an unadulterated commotion she hoped wouldn't wake the whole neighborhood. Her body shook and her thighs turned to jelly. She didn't know what to do with her hands. They just seemed to flail, awkward and waiting for something to hold on to. Her father just kept his mouth on her mound, kisses planted on her soft bellybutton. And Katie came. Hard. Cascades of warm rivers slipped down to her ankles.

"Katie?" came the groggy voice of her mother.

Katie immediately rolled into her comforter like a caterpillar. Her father, pale as a ghost and looking ridiculous with her vaginal discharge all over his nose and lips, immediately realized the closet was too far and too small to hide in and threw himself through the open window.



Out the Window Ch. 04



Dale stared at the envelope on his desk. It was a big one; a big yellow manila envelope without a return address but he knew well enough where it came from. He lifted his face out of his hands and sighed. From his office window he could see the city, the hazy mid-morning of a cold Chicago day. He pulled his arm back in a slow, wide arc and tried to stretch it as best he could.

His body was still sore. After he'd tumbled out that window he'd had to tear off and around his own house, pull on the ratty robe that was stuffed in the hamper on top of the washer in the garage and tell his wife, who had stumbled out of bed thinking she'd heard strange sounds from Katie's room. He allayed her suspicions and told her he'd been chasing some big animal that had been snooping around their yard—and he might have hurt himself doing it. That last part wasn't a lie.

Only once his wife had groggily tromped back upstairs did the pain kick in and Dale realized he'd fractured his ankle. He found out later at the hospital that he'd also cracked two ribs, fucked up a rotator cuff and sprained his elbow and seriously bruised his hip, possibly to the bone. His saving graces were in the pile of garbage he'd been meaning to carry out to the curb (for the last week) and the extreme spontaneity of his defenestration. Had he time to think about what he was doing, Dale likely would have seized up and snapped himself in half. Instead he was just coming off the best orgasm he'd received in ten years and flying wasn't too far from his general mindset.

Of course, that orgasm had come at the cost of finding out what the inside of his daughter felt like.

Dale shuddered again and glared at the manila envelope.

He was in the hospital getting the cast on when Katie's mother dropped her at the airport. He'd ignored her phone calls. He'd had the cast on for weeks and it had been months since he'd seen his daughter. Of course she called her mother with updates on her courses and the great time she was having at Purdue. But Dale found more excuses to stay and work overtime and miss those infrequent but inevitable calls. He missed talking to his daughter. But then again, he was bewildered by what they had done—or he had done; he wasn't quite sure who to blame yet. Obviously the blame was his own. He was the girl's father—he was Katie's father—and in a moment of improper naughtiness he had let her go too far.

It was a moment of improper naughtiness because Katie had been modeled after her father from the start and her flights of impish fancy had always taken her right to the brink of her father's patience before he finally pulled her back—testing barriers, always sneaking out or running red lights or stealing his drinks...right up until the moment he took her aside and told her what was what. Then there was no more sneaking out, or traffic tickets or stealing his booze. She always pushed that leeway until she could make him put her in her place. Maybe she did it for the attention, maybe she did it for fun. Dale realized it had always been like that. Why was this time any different?

Because she struck him where he was weakest. Even now he felt it. It was a blank fog that shrouded his brain, that made it nigh impossible to concentrate on the report that was due in two hours, on the grocery list he'd promised Mary he'd take care of. That fog was created by the evaporating mist around the naked body of whatever his cock was craving in the endless midnights he lay awake beside a wife who rarely fucked him and who he'd lost almost any urge to fuck. The body obviously belonged to Katie now. She'd set his internal infidel to a constant state of waking and now not even sleep was safe from the memory of Katie's eyes as she stared up at him while she sucked the cum out of his cock.

Why did she do it? That was what drove him insane. No, scratch that completely. What drove him insane was how badly he wanted her again. What drove him insane was how fit she was, how carefully and wonderfully she had trained her body, how blessedly she had grown, and how skillfully she knew how to blow him, fuck him, let him...

Dale growled and smacked the envelope off his desk. Standing up, he stared down at his pants. There was his hard on bulging against his fly like it had something to say to him. Why was he made this way? he raged at himself. Why couldn't he have been a normal man with normal problems, like... He faltered. Like what? What did normal men his age worry about? Their daughters, of course, but not in that way. He sank back into his chair, defeated, and wretched.

And, damn it, horny.

Margaret knocked at his door quickly and let herself inside. She was twenty-two now, he thought, and she'd finally figured out what her bra size was (to his dismay but ultimate relief). She came forward with a sheaf of documents from upstairs and laid them on his desk with a smile. But her expression softened and fell when she saw the look on his face.

"What's wrong?" she said.

Quickly, Dale composed himself and sat up. "Nothing." He tried to laugh. It sounded bad. "I'm sorry, Marge, it's nothing."

Margaret gave him a kind look and glanced at the manila envelope on the floor. "What happened here?" she asked as she stepped to the middle of the room and bent, carefully at the knees (the slip at the back of her skirt afforded him a brief glimpse of skin). She picked up the envelope and slid it back onto his desk.

He gave her a look that said it wasn't the time to ask.

In response, Margaret reached behind her head and checked to make sure her hair was in order, then she straightened her blouse. Dale always meant to smile more at Margaret. She was a cute kid and he thought she genuinely cared about him not making an ass of himself at the office.

"How's the ankle?" she asked, beginning to organize the layers of documents.

"Not bad," he said. "It's my shoulder that's been bugging me, really."

"Let me see."

Before he had a chance to wave her away she'd come around his chair and laid into him. He yelped in what he hoped was a brusque, manly way.

"You big baby," she teased him. Guess not.

Margaret worked her little fingers into the flesh between his shoulder and neck and he had to admit she had the talent. Of course, so did his devious member and he pulled forward out of her grasp before either of his heads got any ideas. "Thanks," he said, again more strained than he meant.

"The meeting with Ryan is at one and your tickets are in that docket at the bottom of the pile. Do you need a cab to the airport?" Margaret turned in the doorway with her hand on the knob.

"No," Dale replied. He signed one of the documents absently and pulled the other papers up so that he could see the ticket. "Ryan and I are taking the shuttle over. We, uh—" He looked up. Margaret was waiting calmly in the doorway. He sighed. "Thanks."

"It's fine," she said with a diplomatic smile.

"I mean it," he said. "I'm not—it's not a good day for me."

"Seems like it hasn't been a good month for you."

He almost laughed. When she first started as his secretary she hardly spoke a word that wasn't a direct response to something he'd say. In the two years she'd worked for him the formalities had gradually stripped until she told him directly what was what and what came next on the agenda. 

"Yeah," he said, nodding. 

"Who's the envelope from, by the way?" She raised her eyebrows in the direction of the package.

"Dunno."

She smirked at him. "Liar."

She closed the door lightly and he remained frozen until he heard her typing outside again. It was fair for her to say that. This was the third envelope in as many months. The first came to the office directly. The second was sent to his house but he didn't dare open it there. This one was sent to the office again.

He knew exactly what he'd find inside. He'd tried all morning to ignore it. He realized now that ignoring it was impossible and the sooner he did what he had to do the sooner he could clear the fog from his brain and get back to work.

It was a short business trip, no more than three days, and he wasn't going far, just to Bloomington. He had his bag packed and ready to go on the chair opposite his desk and he'd already sent the itinerary to his family via email and the numbers they could contact him at as well as the hotel where he was staying. The report that was due in less than two hours was the last real bit of business before he and Ryan were to take off—the meeting was just a brief brainstorming session. 

But none of this really mattered as much as the envelope.

His fingers fell upon the yellow envelope and he tore it open. He ripped it lengthwise and out dropped a single, sheer pair of panties. They were almost transparent, like a lace made from blue gossamer. He did know a little something about women's panties and these were...they weren't necessarily expensive but they were...suggestive.

He reached out, tentatively, and picked them up off his desk. Like the others they were unwashed with a dark, ripe spot spoiling the fine fabric of the crotch. Unlike the others there was a yellow postit sitting in the cradle of lace. It said "Enjoy me". And Katie'd signed her name.

As if he wouldn't know. As if before he even put them to his face, before he'd even seen her adult body, he wouldn't know that smell. He knew how the girl smelled. Still. He pressed the panties to his nostrils. 

He absorbed a dozen noxious things about his daughter. His pants suddenly felt far too tight and he wished there was a way to get from here to anywhere else. He glanced out of the high rise window and sighed.

He had to take care of this.

Dale stuffed the panties into his pocket and got up. Stuffing his hands into his pockets and casually pressing the front of his pants as far as they would go, he strode across his office and opened the door. He didn't make eye contact with anybody, just made a beeline for the bathroom.

Just gotta jerk off, he told himself. Just gonna jerk off, no big deal, not gonna think about how fucked up I am or that my daughter might be as depraved as me (she's sending you her panties, you asshole!); not gonna think about that either.

Dale banged open the restroom door and went as far down the long corridor of stalls as he could. He'd always enjoyed how large and clean the restroom in his office building was and he doubly enjoyed it now. He locked the stall behind him, left his shame hanging with his tie on the coat hook (past experience had taught him that swinging it over the shoulder was never a safe option), dropped his pants facing the toilet and pulled Katie's panties out of his pocket. His dick hardly needed the encouragement.

He inhaled the twisted scent of his daughter's collected juices, the blotted musk she'd left on these sensual panties. With his right hand he grasped himself and tried to jerk it as quietly as possible. As far as he knew there wasn't anyone else in here with him and if he could just—

He thought of Katie squirming on her bed and telling him to fuck her little pussy harder; his dick thickened under his fingers and he ran his fist up and down his shaft; he thought of Margaret's breasts and the way the back of her legs looked when she bent down for the envelope; Katie, Katie's elastic ass cheeks dripping wet from her sweat and the sticky resin of her refreshing insides; he felt the back of his knees give way and he dropped her panties from his face and wrapped them around his dick. He let go with his right hand and pressed it against the stall door and held his breath. How loud was that sticky, slippery sound?

The restroom door banged open and Ryan's loud voice rang over the tiles: "Dale, you in there?! I'm looking all over the office for you!"

Dale heaved a tremendous sigh and felt all of the cum punch up against the base of his dick. It crashed there like a ten car pileup and gripped his balls with a black malice. In a minute or two it was going to really hurt but he couldn't do a damn thing about it. As quietly as he could he swiveled in place and sat his ass down on the toilet seat. He chucked the panties into the toilet bowl below him and watched them float idly in the water while his red dick stuck straight up like it was flipping off the ceiling.

"Yeah, Ryan, takin' a shit, what the hell you want me for?"

Ryan laughed his loud, idiotic laugh and tromped into the restroom. He heard him take the stall next to his and sit down. "Dropping the kids off at the pool, eh? Think I'll join you, old man."

Yep, that's the kind of guy Ryan was. He was five years younger than Dale, in his mid- to late-thirties and was maybe married, Dale honestly couldn't remember even after years of working with him. Ryan had definitely been married at some point, but whether or not he was still married to the same girl or a new girl Dale really didn't know. He was a fun guy to drink with, especially for a coworker, but that was about the best you could say about Ryan.

"So I'm looking over these Chinaski reports, right?" Ryan let a big fart rip from behind the stall. Dale sighed and flushed his toilet, watching his daughter's panties swirl and swirl away from him, down the drain.

"Uh huh," he answered back.

"And I'm realizing, where the Hell do they get off trading..." The rest of it was swallowed by a thick wad of time that slogged wetly between Dale's ears and somehow mustered him to finish his report by one, say two mildly engaging things in the meeting, and gather up his luggage, send a final word to his son, daughter, and wife via email, and crawl into the company shuttle with Ryan beside him. It did occur to him, somewhere between taking his shoes off at security and stuffing his carry-on into the luggage compartment that Ryan was still relating the same story he had started on the toilet. And he wondered briefly what color Margaret's panties were. Then he reasoned that there was a good chance Margaret didn't wear panties. He could never remember seeing panty lines. He questioned himself concerning this rude turn of thoughts but then realized he was checking the panty lines of nearly every woman, flight attendant and bus driver that crossed his path between Bloomington and the Chicago restroom.

You know, he thought, if I hadn't both cheated on my wife and committed incest a few months ago, this would be a fairly normal, fairly boring life.

But then he looked at the groggy, vacant people stuffed into the plane around him. No, he realized, it's still about the same.

They landed in Bloomington without incident and took the company cab to the hotel. That night, Dale laid out his suit and papers, turned on the television and let it play while he tried to drift to sleep. The stiffness of his erection kept him from rolling over but it wasn't worth it to do anything about it. It would just be back later.





Out the Window Ch. 04



"Old man?" inquired Katie. "He doesn't look so old to me."

Ryan grinned. "Ah, no, Dale here's a real bull. I just like to call the old man out. He's almost a partner now."

"Really?" Katie made her eyes flash and put her hand on Dale's arm. "You sound like a really important guy." Dale heard the sarcasm in her tone and had to smile, despite the tightening knot in his stomach.

Ryan scoffed. "Yeah, but I'm the future of the company, honey. I tell ya, in about five years, we're gonna see some new management."

Katie turned away from Dale and leaned in to Ryan. "Is that right?"

Ryan nodded sagely, not realizing his expression was making him look drunk. "But enough about me. What are you doing here..." Ryan checked over his shoulders. "Alone? Are you alone?"

Katie nodded. "I'm looking for my daddy."

Ryan slapped his forehead and groaned with laughter. "Oh, man, you are something else." Shielding his eyes and face, he shot a look at Dale ('Can you believe this chick?' he mouthed.) "So what's your daddy look like?"

Katie straightened her posture and folded her hands in her lap. "Well, he's long and tall and handsome. He's a pretty important man; maybe you've met him."

"Oh, yeah," Ryan assented. "I bet I have. Where's he work?"

Katie did her best ditz impression: "I don't know that! All of those big business names sound the same to me." She laid her manicured fingers over Ryan's arm. "Have you seen him?"

Ryan's grin betrayed his eagerness. "No doubt, little lady. You say he's, er, long and tall?"

Katie nodded with a slow, sultry rustle of her curls. "Very long," she replied. "And very tall."

"Well let me tell you what," Ryan replied, "how about you and me go look for him?"

Katie smiled. "I don't know. My daddy doesn't like me talking to strangers."

Dale was drinking Katie in. He couldn't help this: Katie was forcing him to see her as a woman, as a creature wild in her own element, as this beautiful, maybe dangerous, unfamiliar thing. He glanced down at the place her thighs met on the barstool. The way her skin supply pressed against her skin. Her long, smooth knees and shins. When he glanced up Katie was staring at him. She'd caught him looking.

"But what about your friend?" She was talking to Ryan, who leaned over her shoulder (sneaking a glance down her cleavage).

"Oh, him? He's fine. The man closed a deal today so he should feel pretty secure. You don't mind waiting here, do ya, Dale?"

Would Katie really leave with Ryan? Dale balked at the idea. Was she trying to make him jealous? No, that wasn't Katie's game. All the same, the idea of Ryan leaving this bar with his daughter was not going to happen. But if she didn't...

Katie pouted at Ryan and drew her hair over her delicate ear. "You're so shy," she said to Dale. "Do you need a mommy?"

Dale's stomach muscles tightened and an intense throb started between his legs. Katie, talking to him like that, in public. He glanced about him. Everywhere there were couples at tables or large business parties or bunches of people chatting and laughing or grumbling over their drinks. He and Ryan were just two more business men and Katie was just one more babe in the bar. But that did her a disservice. He glanced back at Katie, who seemed to twist his cock through his eyes and hers.

"I'm alright," he said.

Katie uncrossed her legs on the barstool. "You sure?"

Ryan let a stream of air from between his lips. "See? He's fine. Hey, you know what? I didn't catch your name."

"I haven't given it to you yet," Katie told him. "Do you think you can handle it?"

"Oh yeah," said Ryan, nodding his head. Dale finished his drink.

"I've got a lot of work to do tonight," said Katie. "Do you like to stay up late?"

"Real late," replied Ryan.

Katie glanced back at Dale. "Daddy never lets me stay up late. He says that's when the bad men come out."

Ryan kept himself from drooling. "Your father is certainly right about that, sweetheart. But you can tell I'm one of the good guys."

"I don't know," Katie told him. She turned to Dale. "Do you like my dress?" she asked.

"It looks expensive."

Katie smiled. "That's not what I asked."

"Sorry," he said. "I'm at a loss for words."

"I can see that. You're letting him do all the talking." She pointed her thumb at Ryan.

"Talking's good," Dale replied. "I'm better at working with my hands."

"Is that right?" said Katie.

Dale motioned for the bartender to bring him his tab. He glanced back at Katie. "That's what I've been told."

Katie slid her purse off the bar. "Excuse me for a minute, boys." She clacked past them in her heels and strode to the restroom. Dale watched every table of men watch her pass like a wave of noses and eyeballs. All of those men, he realized, wanted his daughter. All of those men could feel the blood pumping down past their waists. And who was Dale to them? Just a guy. 

The bartender brought him his check and he tipped generously.

"You outta here?" Ryan asked.

"Think so," said Dale. "How do you think it's going?"

Ryan shook his head. "That chick is something else. Can you believe her with that 'daddy' stuff?"

Dale grinned with what Ryan didn't realize was embarrassment. "Nope."

"Say, though," said Ryan, leaning in. "That was some pretty slick shit with the playing it cool thing. You're not a bad wing man—but you might be too good." Ryan leaned back. "It's too bad you're married, man." He laughed and Dale found himself examining the pale shadow around Ryan's finger.

The sound of Katie's heels jangled both of their senses. The girl, tall but taller in the pumps, didn't go back to her stool. Her purse over her shoulder, she strode right up to Ryan—between his legs on the barstool—and pulled him into a hot, full mouthed kiss. Caught off guard, Ryan enjoyed the kiss and tried to get a squeeze of her ass before she pulled away. 

Katie drew a finger over her lip. Then she handed something to Ryan. Dale, in shock, looked down with Ryan at his hands.

It was a stained pair of panties.

Ryan brought his eyes back to Katie. She smiled at him and reached over. She grabbed Dale's hand and drew him off his barstool. At his full height Katie came up to his chin in her heels. Her fingers entwined with his and she looked up into his eyes. "Let's put those hands to work." She glanced back at Ryan and grinned devilishly. "Enjoy those."

Ryan watched, crestfallen, as Katie led Dale out of the bar and towards the elevators. Unabashedly, he brought the girl's panties to his face (and ignored the distasteful looks of the other women at the bar). Sighing, he stuffed the panties into his pocket and swiveled around to the bar.

"She wasn't lying," he said to the bartender. "She was a sexy bitch."





Out the Window Ch. 04



"I'm sorry," she said again, squeezing his cock as it glided out of her body.

"Why?" was all Dale could say.

Their eyes were locked, fascinated by the unfamiliar lust in their familiar faces. 

"Vanessa told me once she thought you were a nymphomaniac." She smiled sweetly as he thrust into her for emphasis. "But she's a psychologist, so..." His dick brushed her g-spot and her nipples got harder. "Wa—I wanted..." Katie leaned back. The farther she leaned, the fuller her breasts loomed in her father's vision. "To..." she continued. Dale dragged his tongue from the underside of each of Katie's breasts, pausing at her nipple and then suckling at the other. "Experiment..." Katie gasped and felt a smaller, submissive orgasm surrender to her father's hot energy. 

"I have to cum," he told her. It wasn't a warning, it wasn't a demand. It was a solid fact; one that titillated her and made her body swell with the thought of receiving her father's semen.

"Mm," she said, opening her legs wide. "Now."

"Not inside you," he groaned.

She pouted. "Don't—"

"Never inside you."

She felt him. He was growing thicker and thicker. Without warning, her father pulled out of her and rolled her over. Her waist on the bed, her ass hanging over the side, she suddenly felt him push his dick between her cheeks.

"Anh! Daddy!" she complained. The shaft of his dick was sliding up and down over her callipygian posterior. But that gave her an idea. "Daddy..."

"Unh," was his reply. He was really close, she thought for a gleeful minute. Would this work?

"Put it inside," she told him. She spread her hands over the comforter, savoring the weird but insatiable giddiness of feeling her father's penis rubbing against her butt.

"I—can't—" he started.

"Not in there, silly," she intoned. She glanced over her shoulder and then squashed her breasts against the blanket as she reached back and grabbed her ass cheeks. She pulled firmly and exposed herself to him. Her anus.

Dale stared, his dick hanging and twitching in mid-air. He had to—but he couldn't—

Katie, for her part, had never had a man back there. To be honest, the idea had never appealed to her. Even now she was cautious—but she wanted him to do it. Just this once. "It's okay," she told him. "It's okay."

Drawn by a lust that now defied all reason, Dale approached his daughter's rear. Without lubrication, this could be impossible—yet his dick was so coated with Katie's juices that—

The both groaned as his dick pressed against her delicate asshole. "Th-that's it, papa," she coaxed him, trying to relax her muscles enough to let him in. He was big and she was scared.

"I don't want to hurt you," her father managed to stammer out, though she could tell that until he burst he would be mostly incoherent. He was about to burst.

Suddenly the head of his dick popped in.

"Oh my God!" Katie growled.

Dale couldn't believe it. He had just shoved his dick into his daughter's ass.

"Katie—" He reached out and pressed his hand into the sweat covered small of her back.

"It's—it's alright." Her whole body was shaking. He pushed in a little further but it hurt. "Oh God!" she cried. "Stop!" He did, but only for lack of being able to push in further. "I'm sorry—" she started.

"Katie, I'm going to cum—"

She shut her eyes. "Give it to me, daddy!"

He spurted and ejaculated inside her. Much of it flooded back and leaked down her sweaty crack. She felt him reach between her ass cheeks and jerk himself off. All the while he kept pushing in; but she didn't scream. She did release her cheeks to clutch at the bed. But her father kept cumming so she endured it, listened to him groan and pleasure himself with her body. "That's it, daddy," she whispered. The hot spunk seeped into her rectum. The pain straightened the muscles in her neck and bled up her spine. Even that gave her a sexual release and she rubbed her lonely pussy against the soaked mattress. It was obscene, she realized—she humping the bed corner while her father had his way with her, put his seed in her, practically butt fucked her. And he kept at it until his arm gave out and his dick finally stopped pumping. Finally, gently, he pulled the tip of his penis from her supple ass.

She listened to the sounds of the big man that was her father, his abrupt groan and then the heavy breath. Before there had been a window that came between their afterglow. What now? He kneeled down and tried to untie the shoe from her ankle. Then, cautiously, he reached up and rubbed her behind, his fingers massaging her. 

He helped her up onto the mattress. She sat on the bed and squirmed a little, feeling his ejaculate worm its way between her cheeks. Her toes played with his fingers as he loosened the strap of her pump. Then he rubbed at the red mark it had dug into her skin.

They showered quietly together. In her bare feet she came up to his chest, which was unusual for her being so tall. She was still quite leggy, which her father remarked on absently as he soaped her knees and buttocks and showered kisses on her clitoris. But of course that set her off again and soon she was happily running her fingers through his hair as he ate her out in the shower and brought her to orgasm with the billowing heat of the spray making her nipples zing. 

When he'd finished with her he made special care to wash her delicate privates and especially her behind, leading a queer but pleasant soapy excursion into her ass.

The whole time she gazed hungrily at his erection as it proudly swayed away from his body. Once they'd finished washing each other and there were a few wet towels on the floor she squeezed him playfully.

"What do you want?" she teased.

"I want you to get on your knees," he said.

"You don't make mommy get on her knees."

"You're not mommy."

With pleasure she kneeled before her father, her naked skin fresh and flushed from the shower and his loving touch. She spat on his cock and used her lips to spread it around his shaft. The sound of his groan was becoming an aphrodisiac to her.

He came quickly this time, giving her the proper warning, to which she simply licked at the slit in his dick until it came over her tongue and mouth. She asked him to rub it into her face, which he was reluctant to do at first... She was his dirty girl but he still worried about degrading her. It was sweet, she told him, but then took him to the back of her throat and let her spit and his sperm dribble down her chin. "It's what I want..." she promised him. Or maybe demanded.

It was a sinful vacation from the morality outside their hotel room. At some point they had taken to each other's bodies and felt free to explore. Falling asleep spooning was a new sensation for Katie. There wasn't anyone to scare them, there was nowhere else she wanted to be. She fell asleep with his hand cupping her bare vagina.





Out the Window Ch. 05



"Daddy, when are you going to fuck your little girl?"

Dale's grip tightened on the phone and he glanced fitfully at his office door. Katie's voice purred over the phone and he imagined she was curling herself over her bedsheets. When he said nothing he heard her give a curious growl.

"Daddy, she needs your big cock. God. God, daddy, please come soon."

It was no secret between them. Katie was touching herself across the phone line. He heard the faint ruffle of her rearranging herself, imagined her slender fingers caught between the supple, slightly sweaty, skin of her thighs. She let the faintest of breaths catch in her throat. Her voice went lower, deeper. "Daddy," she whispered. "Daddy, I need you to fuck me now..."

He finally controlled himself enough to clear his throat. His heart was hammering against his chest. He had told her. He had told her this was going to stop. She was a grown woman now; it had been months since their hotel tryst and she'd spent the summer in London. When she started her last semester he had laid down the law in no uncertain terms. He would have to make peace with his sins. He'd have to live with them. And did she understand? "Yes, daddy, of course," she said, using the mock playful voice she'd never used when she'd been living under his roof.

But then the phone calls started. She knew he wasn't receiving her special brown wrapped packages anymore so she'd taken to leaving suggestive voice messages. When those hadn't done the trick she'd become much more explicit.

"Do you remember?" she gasped over the phone. "Do you remember when you fucked me in the middle of the n-night?" She gave a swift cry, as if her clitoris had just been lightly strafed. "You came between my thighs, OH, daddy! And I rubbed your semen between my legs." Katie growled again and rolled over her comforter. He heard her shifting. "I'm getting naked, daddy. I know you love my ass but you like my tits, don't you?" She cooed, "Don't you, daddy?" She groaned into the phone. "Like to squeeze them?"

"Katie. Stop it."

"Getting out of my panties now, daddy. I hope Aubrey doesn't come home early and find me tangled up in this big empty bed." She paused. "I don't know what I might do to her!" She dissolved into sadistic giggles while he sat and raged in his office chair. "Don't I get you hot, daddy?"

"Katie, this is completely inappropriate."

"Do I need a spanking?"

"Katie..." His hard tone frightened her, to tell the truth, but he was miles away.

"Fine!" she suddenly huffed. "I was just having some fun..." He heard her shifting again, perhaps sitting down. "Don't you remember fun, daddy? I guess with me gone maybe you forgot."

"Katie," he started again, "you call me if there's an emergency. You don't call me just to play games."

That made her mad. "I'm sorry," she said acidly, "you should have told me you were busy."

"I'm at work."

"So?"

He wanted to break something. "Why are you being like this? You're smarter than this."

"Oh Gawd!" she sneered. "Like, I'm so totally stupid, dad, maybe I should go bang boys my own age. Huh?"

"Katie..."

"Yeah, s'not like I need my dad's big, thick dick filling me up. Though, y'know, if those frat boys are going to compete I might need to get two of them. Do a little of that double stuff, right?"

"Katie..."

"Is that what you want, daddy?" she said huskily. "You want your daughter to be filled out by two guys... one in my mouth, the other behind me - doing God knows what to my precious bottom?"

"Katie, I've fucking had it."

"Well I haven't fucking had it - but maybe I should go GET IT."

"Don't call me again!" he snapped. "If you call this office and you're not on fucking fire or about to be raped I will-"

"What?" she shrieked. "Take me home? I'm two semesters away from graduating magna cum laude and you're going to jeopardize that for an obscene phone call?"

"You are being completely insane right now."

"INSANE?" she screamed into the phone. "Because I want to FUCK?"

"That is not what this is about."

"Fuck you!"

"Katie-"

"I hate you!"

"WILL YOU CALM DOWN?"

She hung up on him. He was standing now, glaring at the phone in his hand and listening to it groan and crack against his palm. His heart was beating too fast, too hard, and his entire body was a shuddering mass of muscle screaming with the adrenaline that had nowhere else to go but down to his dick and straight through his neck. He glared out the window. He glared at his computer. He glared at his watch, which was laid innocently across the top of his desk near his calendar. His fucking calendar...

The door clicked open and Margaret stepped in.

"Not now," he barked.

She closed it behind her and strode over to his desk. "You need to stop whatever is happening right now. I can hear you out there." She pulled a stray curl of auburn hair off her forehead and behind her ear and looked up at him with her clear, emerald eyes. They glared at each other for a fixed moment until she reached for the phone and pried it out of his fingers.

She laid it on the cradle and stepped back, folding her arms under her breasts. She was wearing a smart little black vest that buttoned tightly against the white blouse beneath it. She'd stopped wearing the more revealing pieces a year ago when they'd passed the new dress policy but Dale always figured it had more to do with her boyfriend, or fiance, he wasn't sure. But the skirt was killing him and her conservative high heels weren't doing him any favors. "Sorry," he snapped. "It's over now. I need to be alone."

"No," she said, not moving. "You're shaking."

"I'm not shaking! It's adrenaline."

"Relax," she said, "you certainly don't look like you're afraid."

"I'm-"

"You look like you're about to kill someone. Jesus!" She pressed her fingers against his neck and slapped his hand when he tried to pull her away. "Your pulse is going a mile a minute."

"I'm not going to keel over," he grunted.

"Yes, we're all very aware of how fit you are, sir. I'm more worried about how the investors are going to feel when you rip their heads off for asking you to speak slower and less wrathful."

He cracked a smile.

She bit her tongue between her teeth and balled her fists against her waist. "You can't go out there like this."

He sighed. "I won't, I-" The calendar. He glanced down at his watch. At the calendar. His watch. "FUCK!" he shouted.

Her cold fingers clamped over his lips and she stomped her shoe down on his toes. "That meeting's in thirty-five minutes and Ryan is already freaking out about it. You can't do this right now."

"Don't tell me what I can't do, Margaret."

She stared at him boldly. "Dale, I have more respect for you than most people I know and I know perfectly well what you can and can't do and I know you can't sink a deal for shit when you've got your mind on something else." He started to protest. "Who is she?"

It had all the force of a physical attack. Margaret scoffed at him. She actually looked hurt.

"Don't even. Please, please, please give me just a miniscule shred of hope that you don't think I'm completely blind." She stuck out her leg and swayed out on her hips. "You're sleeping with someone else. I know what that looks like and it's looked like that for almost a year."

He swallowed. He wasn't frightened, not exactly. Margaret was a career girl and had kept mum about more than a few office indiscretions over the years none which, until now, had involved him and all of which she had cynically, gleefully shared in his confidence. But this was different. "Who heard?"

"They heard you yelling but I'm the only one who could actually make out words," she replied. She looked mad at him rather than disappointed. "And it sounded like a girlfriend fight, not a wife fight. And I know Mary doesn't call you at work."

He had to smile.

She smiled back. "And the packages?"

"Yes," he admitted.

"Dirty photos or lingerie?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Guess."

"I won't," she said firmly. "And I'm one-hundred percent sure she's younger than you."

"Why?"

She wet her lip. "Well look at you." He started to smirk. She shut him down. "You've bottled a lot of passion to get this high in the company. You probably should have been a maniac."

That wasn't so flattering. "Ah-"

"You've channeled something pretty harcore to do what you do," she said. "I never said I respected you because I thought you were smart, Dale, it's because you're so fucking good at business."

"Alright," he decided. "I'll take that compliment."

"But I get the feeling you need a wild girl to vent that on and I don't think Patty in HR is gonna be pinch hitting to your libido anytime soon."

"Patty's a lovely woman," he said.

"She is a woman," Margaret agreed. "But I'm a woman." The way she pronounced the two put an infinite gulf between the terms. She screwed up her eyes at him. "I bet she's my age isn't she?"

"That's getting too personal," he said.

"Admit it."

"She is." That was easy. "Actually she's about a year or two younger."

"Oh." That was a surprise, he saw. "That's your daughter's age, Dale!"

"I know," he said.

She shook her head. "She must keep you up all night."

"That's getting way too personal."

"Fine," she said. She sighed and glanced at his watch. "You're doing better but I can tell you're going to be raging when I leave this room."

He shook his head. "You're right. Hold on." He grabbed his phone and raised it high over his head. Before Margaret could tell him no he chucked it hard and smashed it on the floor. 

Margaret dashed over to the door and locked it. She strode back over to him and thrust her finger into his chest. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she hissed. "You're a grown ass man." He grabbed her wrist and pushed her off. She pulled her arm away from him. 

"Sorry," he said.

"It's fine." She rubbed her wrist. "Or no, it's not fine. You're not fine. You're a wreck."

"I'm not a wreck," he argued.

"No, but you're fit to boil," she said. "Did you break up with her?"

"Sort of."

"Sort of?"

"It's complicated."

"Well get uncomplicated, Dale, because the meeting's in thirty minutes. What do you need to do?"

"I-" He exhaled a heavy breath. The thought of Katie writhing around her bed and teasing him over the phone was boring into his brain; her whispers clawing down his neck and down his nervous back. He hadn't fucked Mary in months and his libido was a wild, raging thing. What did he need to do? He almost roared. "Look, just give me a few minutes, alright? I appreciate it, Margaret, more than you know, but I can't..." He had his eyes shut tight and his hand laid on the edge of his desk. He felt every tremor that shook throughout his body and every aching sensation firing back and forth up his pelvis. When he was younger he used to think there was something wrong with him. Now? Hell...

He realized he hadn't heard a word from the girl. He looked up suddenly, opening his eyes. Margaret was there, her lips set in a curious line, frowning, staring at him quizzically. She pressed her knuckles into her hips again, clearly thinking, studying him. She was beautiful, of course, but she had a keen mathematic way of studying problems and it was during those moments when she seemed to go beyond herself that a sparkle of charisma seemed to ignite her little body. Her skin was darker than Katie's, her hair thick and dark, her eyes bright and green.

She strode over to him again in her heels and deftly started to unbutton her vest. Dale didn't understand. He backed up. She opened the vest and unbuttoned the light silk top. Suddenly her breasts were in view, barely contained by the lacy black brassiere. "I stopped wearing the tops when you stopped looking," she said, taking his hand. He was too astonished to protest. She laid his palm over her chest and wrapped her fingers around his. "Mm," she said. "Squeeze me."

He did, completely out of reflex. "Marge-" he started. 

"Nn-nn," she intoned, reaching up to his face and standing on tip toe. "Kiss me."

He bent down under her curls and felt her long lashes brush his cheeks. She pouted her lips for him and let him kiss her gently. Her mouth was so soft, so suddenly yielding; her fingers carressed the stubble of his cheek. With her other hand she guided his hand down and to the side and helped him cup her heavy breast. She smiled and broke the kiss and became shorter. He watched her kick her heels beside his desk and jut her chest out as she reached through and behind her blouse to unsnap the bra and slip it down her belly.

"Your pants," she said.

"Wait," he said. "We can't-"

"Twenty minutes," she said to him in her most secretarial manner. "You need to fuck me and get this shit washed out of your system - at least for a couple hours. So come on." He watched her wiggle and throw a hand at his desk while she reached up under herself and balanced on one leg. After a moment one thin black pair of panties was skating down her panty hose. She raised the other leg and dropped them neatly over her shoes. She smiled up at him finally and backed up against his desk. 

He continued to stare at her.

She made a slight moue and tilted her head. "I'm asking you to fuck me for the good of the company." She reached for him and pulled him by the belt loops between her legs. She grinned. "You're hard for me."

"Of course I am," he said. 

She reached up and wrapped her fingers around his neck. He let her pull him to her while she undid his belt and started to push his pants down. 

"Margaret-" he started.

"I want you," she rasped. His dick was hard in her little hand. She started to stroke him. "I want you," she repeated, this time slipping her tongue into his mouth. "Say you want me."

"I want you," he said. His hands trailed over her breasts. He felt her heat suddenly. He pulled the bra away and stared gratefully at the generous mounds that sloped down from her shoulders. They were bigger than Katie's - not as perky or round - but soft and heavy in his hands. The puffed nipples glided under the cracks of his palms.

She let go of his dick and started to hike her skirt up against the desk. He helped her pull it up over her ass, lovingly dragging his fingers over the lining of her dark panty hose as he did so.

"Put me on the desk," she ordered. 

He reached under her bottom and scooped her up onto the mahogany.

"Oh!" she suddenly huffed as he slid his fingers down her inner thigh. She looked embarrased for a moment. "Do you feel how wet I am?" He dipped his fingers between her legs and suddenly slipped between her naked pussy lips.

"Every day," she murmured to herself. She laid a hand on his chest. "Your heart's still beating." She looked up into his eyes. He couldn't pull his gaze away, no matter how badly he wanted to drink the rest of her body in. He felt her fingers wrap around his cock and gently draw him to her. "You're so hard," she whispered, still staring directly into his eyes. "Do you want to fuck me?" 

"Yes."

"I want you to fuck me." She squeezed him mercilessly. She had brought him just to the threshold of her pussy. His hands were stamped down on either side of her on the desk and her legs were stretched wide against his hips. He felt her stockinged toes dig against the backs of his knees. "You can think about her while you fuck me," she said. Their bodies had both begun to shake and she pressed the head of his penis gently against the slick lips of her vagina. "You don't have much time," she reminded him. "Fuck me," she said. "Fuck me and cum."

"You're-"

"I'm on the pill," she reassured him. "It's okay." She let him go and squeezed the backs of his arms. "It's okay."

He grabbed her ass roughly and pushed himself inside. 

"Ah!" Margaret gasped. 

She was tight. She was very tight, and very, very wet. He pushed himself as deeply as he could inside her until her fingers clawed at his back. "Ungh," he grunted. He couldn't even control himself enough to ease into her. "I'm sorry-"

"Mm," she shook and squeezed her legs against him. "Is it as tight as hers?" He pulled out and felt breath restored to him. The feeling of the office air on his moist cock as it left her steaming body invigorated him. They both let out muffled moans and then he drove himself back in. Suddenly very aware of the bustling office just paces from their fornication, they moved as one and clutched tighter against each other. Dale pressed his forehead down on Margaret's and she drew her hands over and behind his neck. They shut their eyes tight as he pulled out and slipped back into her.

"Does that feel better, baby?" she whispered to him.

"God, yes."

"Do you give it to your wife like this?"

He rammed into her harder as reply.

Margaret suddenly needed to be kissed. She reached up and pressed her mouth forcefully against his and she screamed into his mouth as he gave it to her hard and deep. She sucked on his tongue and gasped when their lips separated. They found their shaky rythm and he was now pulling in and out of her in long, measured strokes. He grabbed her thick tit and pulled her in more tightly to him with his hand firmly on her pliant ass.

"Do you want to call me by her name?"

He stared down at her (he was going to need another shirt - this one was going to be soaked completely through). "Who?"

"Your girl on the side? Ah - to the right-" she smirked. "My right! Yes!" She grabbed his hand and bit it hard. "What's her name?"

Dale felt her pussy trying to squeeze the cum out of his cock. "Katie." He couldn't help it.

"She has the same name as your daughter?" Her face bobbed back and forth in his vision, her dark hair already sticking to her forehead. She reached up and touched his face. "You're a sick man, Dale." She smiled devilishly. She rocked her pelvis against him. The nakedness of her vagina sent polarized shivers up his abdomen. "Fuck me, daddy," she whispered. 

That was naughty.

"You like that?" he whispered.

"Fuck your daughter," she teased. "I'm young enough to be your daughter. Do I fuck like your daughter?"

"God, Margaret-"

She broke out into another wicked grin and grinded against him on the desk. "Call me Katie," she said. "Oh, fuck, Dale, I'm so fucking wet... Does she make you this hard?"

"My daughter?"

Margaret laughed and smacked his arm. She fell back on the desk and let him lean over her. He pulled down the rest of her blouse and grabbed her breasts and kneaded them together. Just the feeling of her young, supple skin between his fingers was enough to send lightning shooting up and down his dick.

"No," she hissed. "Katie."

"Yes," he said.

"Do you want to cum for Katie right now?"

"Yes," he said.

She closed her eyes and arched her back on the desk. The beautiful blue sky of the cityscape reeled in his vision as Margaret thrashed and bucked against his dick. "Cum for me, baby. Cum for me, daddy," she grunted. He started to slam against her and she squeezed him into her with her legs. "Not so loud," she warned. She motioned for him to lean over her and, while she gripped the front of the desk with one one hand, she brought him in close to her face. 

She drew her fingers over his stubble again and smiled at him warmly. "You're going to do so good in this meeting, honey. There isn't much t-ah!-ime. I have a change of clothes for you in your bottom drawer."

"I know," he grunted.

"I take good care of you," she whispered.

"I know," he said, tracing her mouth with his. She ripped his shirt open so she could rub her hands under his undershirt and over his chest. She started to make soft whimpers that resonated down inside her throat and body. Her pussy had begun to drip over his balls and the mahogany of the desk. 

"What about-" She shushed him. "What about your, don't you have a man-"




Out the Window Ch. 05



"That's not important right now," she told him. "I want you to cum, baby," she cooed to him. "Cum, daddy." She locked her eyes with him suddenly. "Cum, daddy, let it all out. Don't let that bitch ruin the day. Fuck me."

He slammed inside of Margaret and felt her pussy shudder around him. 

"What's my name?" Margaret moaned in as hoarse a whisper as she could manage.

"Katie," he grunted.

"A-h-h-h." She trembled. "Fuck me." She raised her ass up off the desk and into his hands and wrapped her legs high up over his waist. "I want you inside me, boss. I want you to give it to me right now." She rocked back and forth, her ass cheeks grinding against his balls. "Are you ready to cum for me?" she whispered.

It built up inside him. He felt all the anger and terror and lust swelling under his shaft.

"Fill that little bitch with your cum," Margaret hissed. "Do it, Dale. Give it to me! Fuck your little whore!" she groaned.

He came. He plunged and plunged and burst inside of her like molten steel. She gave a gasp of surprise as she felt the first string of his semen escape. Then she was cumming with him. She had needed to feel that, needed to feel him letting go. And now their sexes were secreting like mad and she was watching Dale's face as he pushed deeper and deeper into her body. Her orgasm was a light and ephemeral one, but it radiated out along her whole body and built with every pulse of his engorged member. He was long and hard and she knew she would ache when he finally pulled out of her.

She wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and let him recede. Then she hopped off the desk and straightened her skirt. He was still standing there, the warmth aglow in his cheeks but his eyes empty of their former harried madness. She wiped at the desk.

For a moment he just stared blankly. "Margaret, that was..." He sighed with relief. "I want to do something for you, give- I mean - I should, uh." He looked down at her.

She was smiling at him indulgently.

"How can I - ah-"

She nodded. "You wouldn't want me to feel used, would you?" She went over to his file cabinet and pulled the extra shirt and slacks from the drawer. She laid out her own matching skirt and blouse and came back with his things. She pulled the shirt from his shoulders, handed him the new slacks, and started buttoning him up. "I have some vacation time coming up," she said. "If you want to be my friend," she intoned.

He looked at her in amazement. She redirected his eyes to his cufflinks and started on his tie. "My fiance and I have been planning this trip down South for a while and it would be great if I could get next month off - not the whole month, two weeks?" He reached out to run his fingers through her hair.

She swatted at him. "You'll fall in love every day," she told him. "Today you need to make money. Got it?" She tried hard to suppress her grin.

"Thank you," he said.

She needlessly fiddled with his top knot. "Do you feel alright?"

"Yes," he said, and it wasn't a lie.

"Good," she said abruptly. "That's my job."

"It's really not." Their eyes met.

"Don't kiss me."

"I wasn't going to."

Her face lost a trace of its sparkle. He suddenly drew her in and kissed her deeply on the mouth. Their breath burst out of their nostrils and she lightly drew her fingers over the backs of his arms. 

When they broke apart she was shoving him out the door. "I'll clean up in here," she said, all business, "get going, you're almost late." And she locked him out of his own office. When he was gone she let the shiver that had been building in her break over her naked legs. A satisfying wetness slowly ran down her thigh.

Dale looked down at the correct sheaf of files she had pressed into his hand and started down the cubicle aisles at a brisk walk, Ryan's already nervous face clear in his sights. There may very well have been something wrong with him, Dale admitted, but not today.



Out the Window Ch. 06



Dale realized he'd read the same paper top to bottom about three times now, and he wasn't going to try for a fourth. 

It was dark outside in the city and he was alone in the office except for the janitors. He sighed. 

Katie had been prancing through the house with her new boyfriend Chris, back after finishing college and already preparing for graduate school. She was a smart girl and had already been accepted to the University of Chicago's business program, so now she was home for the summer. And it had been a month of torture.

To her credit, Katie hadn't spoken of their sinful indulgences. He was her father again, not her illegal lover, and she playfully teased him just like she had before the last few years' madness. She said hello to her mother, stole his coffee in the morning, and was gone most of the day. She and Chris were having a grand time, and Dale hated himself for envying the long nights the two were spending together. 

But Katie was twenty-three now, a woman who could make her own decisions, who already had a bright future. Maybe it was just him who couldn't put the past to rest.

Except Katie did, every now and then, give him a shifty, knowing look, and when her mother wasn't around she wore less, showing off her legs in tight shorts, drifting through the house at night in a big undershirt without a bra or anything else. But she didn't say anything to him, just let him look.

But the worst day was by far when she and her friend Alicia had come home after spending a hot day at the pool. The two of them were dripping in his kitchen in their bikinis drinking vitamin water on a Sunday afternoon. And he had to sit at the kitchen table and go over his reports while Alicia practically fell out of her swimsuit (the two had probably been drinking too) and Katie did not. Katie just swept through the house, statuesque, her full, firm breasts molding the contours of her wet crimson bra over her soft skin and her trim abdominals and strong thighs barely covered by the triangle that threatened to wedge itself inside her pussy-

Dale slammed his fist down on the desk. He couldn't think this way!

That had been three weeks ago. Two weeks ago Margaret had finally taken her vacation with her fiance. He'd promised her she could, and until the moment that Nathan had come to pick her up he'd kept her hands off her. But he needed...

* * *

Nathan actually came up to the office to pick her up from work. Margaret was carefully finishing up her work for him, wanting to make sure that nothing was out of place. He shook Nathan's hand and told him he was a lucky man. Nathan thanked him (tall, great brown hair, winning smile - the kid was a winner, no doubt) and told Margaret he'd go down to get the car.

Dale asked to see Margaret in his office. She continued tapping until Nathan disappeared into the elevator.

She came into his office with some papers for him to sign. He watched the way her tight clothing hugged her body, the way her skirt, leg and heel seemed to be one elegant unit, meant for striding, meant for straddling. Dale locked the door and took the papers. She was standing between the door and the desk. He went to her, laid the papers on the desk, and bumped against her. She looked up at him silently (she could feel him down there), and he continued to push against her until he'd forced her to back up against the door. He grabbed her hips.

"Sir..." she said hesitantly.

He ran his fingers down the slick material of her skirt and stopped at the hem. He pressed into her harder until his groin was a thick bulge against the place where her legs met.

"This is completely inappropriate," she whispered, but she smiled as she said it.

He slipped his fingers under the hem of her skirt and flipped it up over her thighs and pulled it roughly over her ass. He ran his palms over the lush, strong muscles of her buttocks and pressed her harder against the door. His eyes locked into her bright green gaze and he dipped a finger over her naked genitalia. 

"You're not wearing panties," he said.

"Sue me," she whispered.

"What else doesn't he know?" he asked. He took her hands and guided them over his zipper. He fit the metal tab into her little fingers. "Unzip me," he said.

"What are you going to make me do?"

"I'm going to force you," he whispered in her ear. He gripped her brown hand in both of his and softly eased her fingers down until the zipper reached its bottom. "I'm going to force you up against this door..."

Margaret reached into his pants (no boxers) and pulled out his cock. It was quickly stiffening under her eager caress. "I'll scream," she said. "I'll scream for Nathan to come save me."

"I'll be inside of you by then," he whispered. While she played with him he traced a loving circle around her ear with his tongue. Her knees trembled against his. "You're so beautiful."

She brought the wet head of his dick up against her shaven mound and rolled it gently back and forth, tightly held in her firm hand. "I bet you say that to all the young girls you fuck."

He grabbed her chin and tilted her head up to him. She weakly fought against him as he planted kiss after kiss on her mouth. He kissed her again and again until she gave way beneath him and accepted his tongue between her lips. At the same time she let his penis go and brushed the back of her hand against his chest as he reached under her ass and angled his dick against her pussy. "Better not..." she whispered into his mouth. "I'll be gone for two weeks..."

"He's going to have you all to himself," Dale muttered. He slipped his pulsing dick between her already sopping thighs, into her lips, and drove himself up, hard, into her vagina.

Margaret knocked her head back against the door in a silent scream and squeezed his arms with her fingers. She hooked her thigh around his pants and shook like an epileptic as he slipped his dick higher and higher into her tight opening. Her shoe fell off her toes and knocked against his feet.

"You got it so bad you need to fuck me on my last day in the office?" she muttered as he pounded her against the door.

"What's your job?" he said.

"To do whatever you tell me," she teased into his face. He roughly fondled her tit.

"I'll take you on a real nice vacation," he huffed. He planted his hands on her ass and pressed her head against the door with his own.

"Too late, boss, I'm getting married." She bucked her hips against Dale's pelvis and bit his chin. She felt how hard he was. She felt his thick length cruising up to the very top of her canal and prodding playfully at the entrance, at her thick labial lips.

"You never wear the ring in the office," he grunted.

"Annh, fuck me!" She said it as softly as she could.

"Are you going to cook for him?"

She was annoyed. "If he asks me."

"You gonna have kids?"

"Aaah. Stop!" she huffed. His penis throbbed in her pussy.

"What doesn't he know about you?" Dale wanted to rip her clothes off right now but he knew he couldn't. He consoled himself by passing a possessive hand over her forehead and angling her face up to his. He had wormed his other hand underneath her leg and into her ass crack and was now indecently stroking her asshole.

"He doesn't know how kinky I am," she said and flashed her emerald eyes at him.

"He fucks you good?"

She glared. "He's got great stamina."

"He doesn't talk does he?"

She grinned. "He tells me to be quiet."

Dale had ensured that the door to his office was a tight one, one that wouldn't creak and sway when a swift breeze came through the window. It was a good thing, too. They had begun to war against each other's bodies; he pushed up into her and she slammed right back down on him. He got the impression that she was trying to make him cum, as if she was trying to force him to let her go. But her eyes and her squirming body told two very different stories. 

He wound his fingers up behind her head and pulled her hair tight in his fist. She let out a scared moan and shut her eyes.

"I could tell you to be quiet." 

She smiled and drew her fingers away from his chest and slipped them down the generous swell of her breasts. His dick pounded her pussy. "This is sexual harassment," she whispered.

He pulled her hair tighter back and forced her body flat against the door. He pulled out slowly and drove it hard up into her slit.

"He d-doesn't know..." she whimpered, "that I fuck my boss..."

Dale let her go. He gripped her thighs in both his hands and drove her against the door. There was a heavy BUMP that they both prayed didn't alarm anyone on the other side.

"He doesn't know..." she whispered, "that I let him fuck me..." He kissed her mouth. She kept talking. "Because it makes me feel dirty..." He kissed down her dark neck. Her fingers sifted up into his hair. "He thinks I'm in love with my boss."

Their eyes locked and she angled her hips against him, a mere weight in his hands, her whole body raised against the wood paneling and his strong arms gripped to her flexible frame (though still held in place by her tight office clothes). 

"He doesn't know that I know what my boss's balls feel like when they smack against my ass. Ah!" At that moment Dale's finger was already halfway up her asshole. "he doesn't know that I've tried anal," she said, her eyes vacant and burning into Dale's unblinking gaze. "I didn't like it." He stuck his finger further up her rectum. She gave a breathy laugh.

"Are you in love with your boss?" he said.

"Nathan will be back soon."

"Don't leave me," he said.

"You can't fuck me for-mmh-ever," she replied. Her eyes flashed again as he angled to the side and plunged against the right (her left) side. He remembered. He was desperately trying to fuck her against her G spot. She dropped her right leg down and kept her left leg hooked over his hip in order to grind against his dick. "That's it," she mumbled.

"Pretend I'm him."

"Nathan..." she whispered. She smirked and touched his face. "Call me Katie."

"I love you, Katie."

"I love you, Nathan."

They both gasped as the first squirt of her vaginal fluid soaked the tip of his cock.

"I'll miss your tight pussy, Katie."

"Right there, honey," she groaned, reaching up to pull his shoulders in towards her body. He grunted and thrust harder and harder into her at her slippery angle. She let out a grunt of her own. "I wish you fucked me like this all the time, baby..."

"Stay..." he muttered.

"No, baby..."

"Stay," he groaned, his balls smacking against her thighs now, his fingers pulling her skirt higher up her belly, his legs shaking as he drove himself higher and deeper inside of her. He thought of Katie in her bikini. He thought of Margaret's eyes when she came. "You gonna cum?" he said.

"Almost."

"Cum for me, Katie."

"Al-"

"Cum!"

He blew his load inside her and froze mid-plunge. Margaret sighed and moaned and twisted against him but they both knew she had stopped just before the threshold. There were too many people between them. His dick twitched and convulsed inside her and it felt good; they both shivered with the sensations of their tingling nerve ends. 

When he pulled out and messily stuffed himself back between his zipper, it felt cheapened.

She pulled her skirt down over her thighs.

He wiped some hair from her forehead and swallowed. "That stuff about being in-"

She laughed him off of it before he had a chance to finish. "He's probably already pulled up front. Give me a kiss for luck."

Dale grabbed her and pressed her hard against the door. Margaret melted against him and opened her mouth. Her jangled nerves wanted to pull him back inside her to finish what he'd started but her wounded heart and frayed emotions wanted the same. So it was only her common sense that pulled her back from the brink of a terrible mistake: telling him how she felt. She left him with a swift peck and an admonishment (while she grabbed a tissue from his desk and wiped underneath her skirt): "When I get back, this... you know this isn't permanent?"

"I know," he said. "I know, I'm sorry."

"No," she said quickly. "Please don't be sorry. It's my fault as much as yours, I... like it. I, uh-" She bit her lip. She swiped at a few stray strands over her ears and made herself as presentable as she could. "It's not a habit we should get into."

"No," said Dale. 

"I mean, you're just looking for a pussy to fuck."

Dale's mouth fell open. Margaret stared at him, aghast at herself.

"That's-" he started.

"That's not what I meant."

"That is what you meant," he said. "That is what I- Margaret."

"Sorry," she said. She unlocked the door quickly and pulled it open.

"Don't-" he said. She was hurriedly packing her things into her purse and laptop bag. "Margaret-" Then she was powering off her computer and clacking away. On one shoe.

Dale dashed back into his office and nabbed her shoe from the floor. He sprinted down the office towards the elevators where Margaret was just stepping through the doors. There were another two co-workers behind her and he ignored her incredulous stares as he dashed between the shutting doors.

Thankfully the two were chatting about the latest office meme because it laid the perfect cover for him to squat down and tie his shoe, dropping Margaret's soft heel beside her foot and gently fitting it over her toes and against her heel. He coughed and raised himself back up, the conversation behind them continuing unabated and her now staring up at him with a stiff, cagey smirk on her face.

"Like Prince Charming," she whispered.

He glanced down at her. "Anytime, Cinderella."

The doors opened and the men politely went out on either side of him. Margaret went with them; he could even see Nathan waiting patiently outside the lobby doors in her mini Coop. She didn't turn, she didn't say anything else, but Dale had the distinct impression that their tryst, hot, however brief, was concluded. She'd said too much, apparently, without really saying anything at all. And he'd cum in her. And she'd let him. And he wanted her.

But maybe she was right. Maybe he just wanted whoever was willing, younger, kinkier.

Or maybe she was wrong, but she did deserve to be loved by someone who treated her as more than a surrogate and was waiting to pick her up. Could have been him? Never.

He had a wife, three kids, a mortgage, a job, a secretary, and a steadily raging libido that threatened to turn all of his relationships into sex drenched disasters. The elevator pinged and he stepped out and back onto his floor. He glided innocently back to his office and shut the door. And finished another working day.

* * *

That was two weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. When she came back next week he expected Margaret to be professional, and courteous, and kind. But they were finished. Because Margaret had self control, and she wouldn't be another woman's substitute. She was worth loving, and Dale honestly hoped Nathan held up his end in that union (though he had his suspicions about who wore the pants in that relationship).

It had been a long day, longer than it had to be. But with the latest acquisition and Ryan putting in the extra hours, Dale had to make a good impression with the board. The truth was, he didn't need to do the overtime, he did his job and he did it better than any three of his colleagues. But that wasn't the way it worked.

He debated sleeping in the city, or even at the office, but he decided that nine o'clock wasn't really that bad. So he made the long trek down the building and into the parking garage, said good night to the security guard and drove home.

Katie, at least, would not be a problem. She would no doubt be out with her friends, or Chris, and he could get to bed unharassed. They had come to a kind of understanding, he thought, maybe one where they could all go back to their normal lives.

Dale sighed and pushed his forehead into his hand, resting his elbow against the window. Yeah, right.

He ate a decent meal at a little Italian place just ten minutes from the home. He didn't want to make anything when he got in and it was highly likely that anything Mary had made was already gobbled up by his sons. They were growing boys; he didn't begrudge them that. He hoped they were out and about tonight too, fresh from college and sowing wild oats. For God's sake, he thought, please be sowing now. Get it out of your system.

He thought about Margaret banging her fiancee on vacation and grew hard enough that he had to wait a minute before stepping out of his car onto the driveway. What he needed was a good fuck. He hoped Mary would be in the mood, and he hoped he could convince her if she wasn't. 

It was ten o'clock when he walked through his front door and by the sky and the smell in the air he had no doubt that it would be raining by morning. The house around him was empty and dark. He loosened his tie and entered his study, sliding his briefcase under his desk and putting his phone into its charger. Then he began to mount the stairs.

He was glad now - as he usually was at these hours - that his wife and he had sprung for that California King bed. It was a big bed and it allowed them to both stretch out. They seldom spooned anymore and the wide expanse of the bed afforded them their distinctive territories. As he climbed to the top of the steps he could hear sobbing. Not loudly. But someone crying. And it didn't sound like his wife but it was coming from their bedroom.

Dale pushed open his bedroom door and saw two women curled up on his bed. The first was his wife. She was wrapped in her robe, her dirty blonde hair up in a relaxed pony tail, her big eyes sympathetic and acknowledging him there, her big breasts tastefully closed off from view by the well knotted robe. Her perky nose and her high cheekbones were the two ageless, endearing things about her face, and they were shared by the woman crying in her arms. The other woman was younger, lithe, with her long legs leading down from her nightie and her small feet tucked up under her ass, which poked out from under the silk. He could see the white slip of her panties curled over the supple, smooth skin, skin that almost glowed with its vitality, skin that revealed the toned and shapely contours of her thighs, calf muscles, abdomen. The long neck of the girl led to a mess of bright golden curls that were buried now in her mother's neck. It was Katie, and she was crying.

Dale strode to the edge of the bed. "What's going on?" he said.

Mary patted Katie's back and shook her head. "She and Chris just broke up."

"Oh," said Dale. "I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say. 

Suddenly Katie broke away from her mother and practically threw herself at him. Dale ended up with her in his arms, up on her knees on the bed, with her breasts pushing into his stomach. There was very little between her sheer nightgown and his shirt and he could feel her little nipples poking into him. "Uh-" he started, not putting his hands around her.

"Dale!" his wife chided. 

He wrapped his arms around Katie's back and tried not to squeeze her too tight. "I'm sorry, honey, I really am." She cried into his arm for another minute or two and he and his wife exchanged spousal glances. 

After a time Katie excused herself to clean up and Dale went into the bathroom to change. He talked to Mary about the day as he threw his clothes into the hamper and pulled on his pajama bottoms. Not knowing if they'd see Katie again that night, he threw an undershirt on as well. After about ten minutes, and no sign of the girl, Dale slipped back into bed and kissed his wife on the cheek.

His wife smiled at him and patted his shoulder. 

"Are you in the mood?" he said.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I'm just worried about Katie. She really liked Chris."




Out the Window Ch. 06



He sighed. "I guess she must have. She's twenty-three and she's crying to her mother."

His wife gave him the dirtiest of looks. "That's a mean thing to say, Dale."

"Sorry," he said with as much sincerity as he could muster. He was about to settle in to his side of the bed when Katie reentered their bedroom.

She smiled at them sadly, her eyes puffy but the tears having stopped. Dale looked away from her guiltily, knowing that she was beautiful but thinking she had grown even more beautiful in the intervening year - and of course his wife catching him staring at their daughter's breasts and trim stomach would be awkward, to say the least.

"Thanks for putting up with me, mom," she sighed. 

Mary shook her head. "Sweetheart, it's not putting up with you. Maybe you and Chris will get back together."

Katie shook her head. "I don't think so. I don't know. Um, I just don't feel well, can I..." She put her hands together and Dale's heart raced as he realized what she was going to ask. "Can I sleep here, just for a little while?"

"Of course," Mary replied. "Here, Dale, scoot next to me and Katie can get in on the side. Is that okay, honey?"

Katie nodded bashfully. "Thanks," she said. "Sorry to be such a baby."

They both carried on like he wasn't even there, and Dale found himself wordlessly shifting over until he was next to his wife, giving Katie as much room in the big bed as he possible could. He pulled the cover aside for her mechanically and watched as she slid those long legs under the sheets and smiled at him sweetly. "Thanks, daddy." She turned her back to both of them and let out a heartbreaking sigh. Then she was quiet and Mary turned the lights out.

Mary patted him on the arm. "That's alright, isn't it?"

Dale turned to his wife in the dark. He hoped she couldn't see the miserable look on his face. "Yeah," he said. "No problem." He slid down onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He kept his hands folded on his chest and felt his heart beat and beat and beat. Beside him his wife lay on her side and was out like a light. On his left he heard Katie breathing and imagined the round swell of her buttocks under his hand. It was less than an arm's reach away. "Damn it," he muttered to the ceiling.

* * *

He wasn't sure what time it was when he awoke, but he was very disoriented. He realized, groggily, that the long hours at the office were beginning to take their toll. He thought he could hear rain pounding on the window and the roof, and that would send him back to sleep. He smiled to himself and rolled onto his left side. 

He was hard, as he usually was when he awoke, but he made sure not to roll all the way over. He couldn't, however, roll to the edge because there was a body there.

Confused, he reached out. His wife slept on the left side of the bed, and he could hear her breathing deeply behind him. His hand landed on the warm hip of a woman. By the slope of the hip, and the way it swept back from the ribcage (his hand glided over its silky surface), it was definitely a woman. Still half asleep, maybe dreaming, he hoped, without thinking he let his hand glide down to her generous posterior. His dick got harder and his lust impelled him to draw nearer.

Softly, in the loud but smooth way everything sounds late at night, he felt her stir and curl forward against the edge of the bed. His eyes well adjusted to the darkness, he looked down and watched as her hands reached back and pulled her nightie over her hips. He jerked back his hand as if shocked. But Katie didn't stop there. Still pushing herself out to him, she hooked her thumbs over her white panties and worked them down the bubble of her ass. She left them hanging at the top of her thighs and then, rustling the sheets, returned her hands to the bed's edge, as if the whole motion had been made in her sleep. 

Now, if he had been any kind of father (or just a man who kept his instincts in check) he would have immediately rolled over. But he couldn't ignore that ass. He stared at it. In the moonlight shining in between the curtains he could just barely see the soft white down in the small of Katie's back. He pulled back ever so gently to remove his dick from poking her skin. This must have been a mistake, however, because Katie (again, as if the whole motion were one made in her sleep) adjusted herself, moving and undulating until she'd ridden up against his cock and pushed him into her crack. 

Dale stared at his dick. It had poked through his pajama bottoms and been sandwiched by the white skin of Katie's buttocks. She held him there with her firm muscles and began to rock back and forth with the rhythmic pace of the ocean. Back and gradually forward, pushing his cock up to her nubbin of tailbone and grinding it down into the fleshy place where her cheeks squeezed together. Dale watched, and felt, the warm tightness of her body relax and begin to mold against him. One foot slid underneath the sheet and contacted his ankle. She drew her toes against his hairy leg.

His dick bulged against her and he grew harder and harder. His adrenaline was pumping and his wife was sleeping behind him, but his hard on was sucking up all the blood that should have been going to his brain. He wanted to fuck.

He grit his teeth and stopped grinding against his daughter's buttocks. He put his hand on her ass and squeezed dangerously. Katie let out a tiny moan and he pushed his mouth down to her soft ear. "Stop it," he whispered.

Katie spoke as if waking from a deep sleep. "Wh? Daddy? Is that you?" 

He felt her body grow rigid. Whether on purpose or by accident she had thrust her ass out and froze so that his penis was shoved against the length of her crack. He could feel her twisted panties wet and squashed against his balls.

"Oh, daddy," she breathed. "I'm so sorry- I thought- Oh, God, I thought you were Chris..." He felt her squirm and again couldn't tell if she was purposefully trying to get his precum slathered against her skin or trying to push herself away from him. "I'm so embarrassed," she said. "I'm so embarrassed."

"It's-" His heart pounded against his chest but he couldn't tell. He honestly couldn't tell if she was serious or playing a game. "Look-" he started.

"Oh God, that's your dick," she murmured. He felt her ass cheeks clench. It did not do his erection any favors. "I thought it was strange... I felt... I forgot I was here in you and mom's bed..." Dale strained to hear if his wife had woken. "God, daddy," she whispered. "Your dick is so big. I should have known it wasn't him."

"Katie..." he warned.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm so sorry, daddy. Please don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," he said.

Subtly, Katie bent and stretched, giving his penis a wet massage against her buttocks. "Please don't tell mommy," she said huskily.

"I won't," he said, his heart beating faster, still locked against his daughter's body with his penis shoved against her and his hand on her ass.

"It's okay, daddy," she whispered. "You can't help it. I was probably rubbing against you in my sleep."

"Katie-"

"You probably thought I was mom, right?"

"Yes."

Katie readjusted and laid her hand over his. "It's so late... Can you hear the rain?" They listened to it pound on the roof and tap at the windows. It must have been windy and cold outside. In the bed, their bodies squashed together, they began to heat up. "Chris used to wake me up with his hard ons...and so I kind of got used to...just pulling my panties down...and letting him..." Katie clenched her ass cheeks. "I was a good girlfriend. I know how a man gets when he just needs it. When it's so stiff...and ready..."

Dale pulled his hand out from under her and pinned it to her hip. "Katie, stop it."

"You can't just stick that thing against me all night," she said softly. "It's never going to go down. Does it hurt?"

"It's fine."

"Don't be mad, daddy," she whispered. She rocked her hips so slightly that the bed barely moved. "You can't help it."

He wrestled her hip down and pinned her to the mattress. His dick eased slightly from between her ass and hovered against her skin, the head still poking against her ass.

"I wonder if this happens to other families," Katie whispered. "I mean, what if you were asleep and I thought you were Chris... Or what if you just started pushing it inside me and started having sex with me, thinking I was mom. God, what would people say? Would they understand? Ugh, that's so sick."

Katie rolled over, despite his light protests, until she was facing him in bed. His dick stuck up at an angle and poked into her stomach. Their eyes met, Dale looking down at Katie, who looked up at him with the most innocent eyes.

"I think I'd scream, if that happened," she whispered. "You'd never do that to me, would you, daddy?" She lowered the lids of her eyes in either sultry provocation or demure shyness. He was entranced by the play of watery moonlight over her ripe lips.

Dale's prick refused to soften. Katie looked down at it. "Oh...Oh, it's...it's cumming a little bit." A clear droplet of precum had oozed from his cockhead and dribbled over her stomach. She looked back up at her father. "Dad, you're not getting turned on are you?"

"Turn back around," he said.

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's just...I can't sleep with that poking me and you're...cumming on me, daddy."

"No," he said.

Katie smiled fiendishly. "Do you need mommy to take care of it? I promise I won't look."

Her eyes batted up at him. "Do you remember what it feels like to break up with someone? When part of you is sad but part of you is horny and wondering?" She actually made her eyes water. "I'm just a little messed up. I'm sorry I teased you. Can't you feel a little bad for me?" she whispered. "Can't you feel for me, daddy?" As she spoke her eyes closed. She tilted her face up to his and pouted her mouth; and in the moonlight she was so soft, and vulnerable. How could he not?

He reached up and caressed her cheek. "I'm sorry, honey," he said. "I didn't realize. But you're...it'll be okay."

She gave a weak sob and he bent down to kiss her forehead. She raised her head and let his lips slide over her skin. The kiss slid down to her nose, paternally. She continued to raise her face and he lightly pecked her on the mouth. She didn't move that time but continued to sniffle, so he pecked her again. This time she parted her lips ever so slightly but didn't press against his. He placed his hand on her other cheek. "It'll be okay," he murmured. She stretched her neck for another kiss.

"Will it, daddy?"

This time when he kissed her she moved her lips with his. "Mmm," she murmured into his mouth. He didn't pull his face away this time and she opened her lips all the way and slipped her tongue into his mouth. 

His penis bent flat against her stomach as she reached for his arms. He started to pull away but she sobbed again, as if on cue. Their next kiss was wet and she breathed into his mouth.

Within him, his stomach churned with longing and despair. Instinctually, he wanted to protect his little girl, and she'd made it clear that his kisses were showing her the attention and love she needed. But that wasn't the only instinct at work, and he needed her to stop pressing against him. When she was younger he'd kiss her forehead when she was sad and that was the extent of his ministrations. Now that she was a woman maybe she needed more womanly reinforcement. 

He lied to himself, and Katie rested her lips against his chin and her nose against his mouth. She kissed his skin.

He caressed her neck and she eased against his hand. She gave a whimper that forced him to take her hand from his arm and kiss it; it was the sound of her need. He kissed her fingers.

"But I loved him, daddy," she whispered. She reached up and pulled his face to her mouth, even as he resisted. Her nose let out a heavy sigh as she puckered her lips. 

"That's how it happens, Katie." He could taste her. He could taste her tongue. She brushed her knee against his thigh.

"Maybe he never loved me," she said petulantly.

"No."

She kissed him hard this time and moaned into his mouth. "Oh, daddy. Oh, daddy..."

"No!" he said more forcefully, pushing her away.

She started to reach for his cock.

Suddenly his wife murmured something and shifted. As she turned Dale pushed himself against Katie, and Katie rolled over to the edge so that the two of them were spooning and his dick went flat against her back. They were now pushed to the very edge of the bed while Mary stretched out and claimed more of the middle.

"Mmuh?" Mary said. "Katie, you okay, honey?"

"Yes, mom," Katie said sleepily.

"Dale?"

Dale muttered from where he and Katie lay crushed against each other and Mary, satisfied, drifted back into slumber. After a minute she began to snore lightly. 

Dale's big arms now had to negotiate he and Katie's new position. His left slipped under his pillow and his right was over the sheets, around Katie. 

"You're so big..." Katie whispered. "I think I would have known you weren't Chris if that had accidentally..."

"Katie, stop it-"

"Popped inside me." Katie squirmed in his grip and ended up pushing herself back against him. His dick slid against the small of her back. "Does mom have to deal with that thing every night?"

"Katie, stop it right now!" he hissed. The hand that was above the sheet snaked back underneath and grabbed Katie forcefully by the hip. The hand underneath the pillow reached down and grabbed her shoulder. He hadn't meant to (or had he?) but his hips pushed forward with the force of his anger. 

Katie sounded scared. Sounded, he thought. It didn't mean she was. "You're hurting me," she said.

"Stop talking."

"What are you going to do to me?"

"Nothing."

"Daddy, I can feel you."

"It'll go down, just leave it alone."

"Why don't you roll over to mom? Can't you do that?"

"Just be quiet."

"Daddy, please," she begged, "you're scaring me." She struggled against him and pushed her hair up against his face. He had to breathe the deep, luxuriant scent of her. There was the lightest hint of her shampoo but more than that, after the night and the bed she smelled like a mixture of body odor and their sheets. The struggle was a quiet one, a measured one. Their legs entwined and Dale honestly didn't know what they were wrestling for. Was Katie really scared? Of course his dick was inappropriately touching her but she was used to that - God! This was abnormal. What had happened? Her smell, her body, her struggles made him hotter, his dick harder. What did he want? And with his wife beside them, and what if Katie really was scared? What if she really was trying to put the past behind them- As she drew up her legs he drew up his hand on her shoulder and she lifted her hip and pushed against him and suddenly his dick was shoved into the crack of her ass, this time deeper, this time directly in line with the plump contour of her cheeks.

He was hard. He was raging. All of her moving around and shifting had only exposed him to the different parts of her, the springy and resilient flesh of her that bounced and responded to his touch. But she was still playing as if it was unintentional. It was driving him mad.

"Don't you love me?" Katie said.

"Of course I do."

She shifted her head back and rolled her hair against his face until his lips brushed her ear. He kissed the lobe and she pushed it into him, making him kiss her again.

"Oh, daddy, I'm so confused," she purred. 

Katie rolled over as far as she could and trapped his hand under her supple abdomen. She curled forward on the bed and drew her knees up, thrusting out her bottom at him. Her white panties were still yanked down her thighs, the elastic digging into the soft meat of her legs.

"Pull your panties back up," he whispered.

"They are up," she said.

"Katie, do what I tell you."

"I'll do whatever you want..." she said, but she didn't move. So he reached down and grabbed her panties. Her hand flew to his wrist. "Daddy, stop-" she said.

"It's obscene." 

They struggled as lightly as they could without waking Mary. Dale was surprised by how strong she was but soon they were tussling, she not quite strong enough to stop him but still, when the angle was right, able to yank in the opposite direction of him so that the panties ripped. 

"Daddy," she hissed. "You ripped my panties." 

Dale stared at the torn panties between her legs. He watched her ass flex and roll as she rubbed her legs together and reached down to pluck the torn fabric from her skin. "Why did you do that?" she said, louder than she should have.

Dale pushed against her and bent over her ear. He pressed her to him, using the hand pinned beneath her to roll her lower body against him and reaching forward to pin her hip down. He reached over and grabbed the panties from her hand, terrified of where she might leave them. Katie didn't let them go without a fight and soon his penis stuck straight and uncomfortably against her firm crack. Katie let out a little gasp and he whispered to her, "Stop it right now. I want you to go back to your room."

"Then let me go."

They had been locked together for some time, and since waking the heat of the sheets and their own bodies was drawing them closer, the sweat on them (especially below their waists), making their skin slick. The result of this was that though Dale's penis was pressed against Katie's ass, the long, smooth shaft had begun to slide between her legs. 

"Daddy, What are you doing?"

The nerves in his dick shot electricity throughout the rest of his body. It pounded into his brain and the feel of her warm, yielding body was short circuiting his paternal instincts. He wrested the panties from her fist and grabbed her arm and held her to the side of the bed.

Between his left hand on her hip and his big hand over her arm, he had her effectively stuck to the edge of the bed. In his grip Katie trembled, the whole fit form of her shook, the young body enslaved to his superior strength. Katie's nightie had ridden up to her waist and she dared not kick back for fear of waking her mother. Dale's penis slid between her legs and the head poked against a spongey, hairless cleft that was sticky and sopping wet.

"Please don't hurt me, daddy," she whispered. Her feet slid back under the covers and glided over his ankles. "Don't...take advantage of me..."

"Stop it," he said.

"Please, I won't tell mom. Just let me go." Katie rocked her body up and down, sending his dick back and forth over the moist softness of her thighs. "I'll be good. You can fuck mom instead. Can't you control yourself?" She reached up against the strength of his hand on her arm and opened her nightie. His height was such that he could see the fabric open and spill her beautiful tits over the sheets. "I'm your daughter."

Dale raged inside of himself. He could feel the beads of sweat, or the accumulation of her juices, running down the apex of where her legs met. He could feel the soft squish of her vagina against the top of his cock. His lust built in him. He could fuck his wife. He could just turn around and take her, whether she wanted it or not. And what if Katie was serious? What if she wasn't tempting him? What if she was terrified of him? What- None of that mattered! She was his daughter!

But her body against him, the way she angered him.

Dale pushed the tip of his penis into Katie's pussy.

"Guh..." Katie gasped.

He couldn't believe it. She was so tight and yet so wet that it felt like he'd begun to bathe his dick in warm gel. To get to her vagina he'd had to press his thighs hard against her buttocks and arc his pelvis up between her legs. He wrapped his left arm around her body from underneath and grabbed her breasts.




Out the Window Ch. 06



Katie tried to pull away. "Oh no, dad..."

Dale pushed it farther in, the hand on her arm wrapped over her to grab her stomach. And he shoved her down. "Is this what you want?" he hissed.

"Oh..." Katie whispered. Her legs straightened and he felt her toes point down against his own as her body went rigid and they lay there breathing shallowly, only as deeply as they dared, as Mary continued to gently snore. The cheeks of her ass trembled against his skin.

Dale continued to feed his cock up into his daughter's pussy, snaking it in until its long, stiff length filled her uterus. She really was a tight fit. He had to push harder to get his last inches in, not stopping until his balls mashed against her crack. And all the while Katie gasped and gasped, rising with his cock, which required him to push her down. "How could you... How could you..." she whimpered, taunting him. The two of them strained on the mattress and he pushed his hips as far up as they would go, not letting go of her arm and stomach, her breast heavy and glorious in his hand, shoving her forward and up, her whole body rising up, her head whipping back, her body leaving the bed. He performed an obscene balancing act, trying to let loose all of his unbridled passion without disturbing the rest of the bed. 

The soft tightness of his daughter's young vagina squeezed against him and he pushed higher and higher, as high as he thought it could go, and Katie opened her mouth and gave an involuntary gasp.

"Daddy-" she whispered. "Stop it. Control yourself."

Dale pushed into her harder until his whole body flattened against hers and she was utterly filled by his prick. "You little liar," he growled. She finally fell back to the mattress and froze with his cock buried deep within her. 

"Oh...oh God..." Katie cried. 

"Oh God," Dale echoed, pulling out of her. Their bodies relaxed. And then he shoved it in again.

"Anh," Katie cried softly. "Is this because I made you hard? Pull it out."

"I'll pull it out," he whispered. He flexed his pelvis back and drew his cock out of her. He did it slowly, slowly, letting the minute run by until the head of his dick was perched on her luscious vaginal lips. Katie rocked her head back and forth against his chest, making sounds that were either whispers for mercy or barely restrained moans of lust. He reached down and shoved his pajama bottoms down, yanking his cock out of its moistened flap. He greedily shoved himself back inside her. Katie groaned.

"Oh, God," she murmured.

He pulled out and pushed his cock in again.

"Oh, God..." Katie moaned. She rubbed her nipple into his palm.

Keeping their bodies as still as possible, Dale pressed Katie to him tightly and began to pull in and out of her, only moving his hips. Katie reacted to him with the slightest flex of her hips. Her head bobbed against him loosely. "It's so big..." Katie moaned. "It's too big for me."

"Shh," he said.

"I can't take it, daddy."

His dick strained inside her. "You'll take whatever I give you," he murmured darkly.

"You just take whatever you want," she hissed. "You're raping me."

"You're a liar. You didn't break up with Chris."

"Nnnnh," she grunted. "Yes... I did... I told him he didn't fuck me like my father.

"You're my slut."

He pushed into her hard and her breath caught in her throat. "No," she groaned. "No, I'm not. No- I'll scream. I'll scream to mom. Ahh. Ahhh."

Dale moved his arm up and pulled the panties between her teeth. He pounded into her until the wet squelch of his dick in her soaking vagina was audible. Katie bit down on the panties and Dale humped her harder. He watched her close her eyes and embrace her first orgasm, making guttural sounds against the fabric.

That was enough to wake Mary.

He could hear her stirring, he could sense her body returning to its senses. As she began to murmur, "Honey...?" he pulled out of Katie with a slick plop and rolled over to his wife. 

"What's going on?" Mary said.

"Open your legs," he said. 

Mary got a "What?" out before Dale reached between her legs and pulled her panties down. Her own state of arousal meant nothing to his already wet and plunging dick. "Unh!" she cried as he jammed himself inside and began to fuck her.

"No," she said as he pulled the straps of her nightgown down and roughly shoved the fabric over her big breasts. "St-stop, Dale," she said. "Katie- Katie's sleeping-"

"Quiet," he said. "We won't wake her."

Mary tried to push him off but he pried her legs apart and held them open and against the mattress. She was pressed down as he got an unimpeded thrust in, burying himself inside her. Mary let out a squeak of protest as he grabbed at her tit and squeezed.

"Oh! Oh, God, you're so hard?!" She glanced over at her daughter, who in the darkness looked to be sleeping soundly on her side. Dale plunged into her, making her whole body convulse. 

"No, Dale, really," she continued, "please..."

"Quiet," he said.

Dale bent over his wife, sweeping her hair back and behind her head, bringing her face up to meet his. On top of her, he curled his back until he was driving his cock up into her from between her thick thighs. "Ah! No, we can't," she whispered. He smothered her mouth with hot, insistent kisses. "Ah. Ah, Dale, gentle... Please... I can't..."

"Yes you can," he said, continuing to thrust into her. He did nothing more than remain prone over her body, holding her legs open and her shoulder pinned to the bed, but his hips ground into her, sure and steady, pushing his stiff member deeper.

"I hate it when you make me do this," she hissed at him, more annoyed than angry, but she couldn't stop him. "Nah... Ohhn. No!" He thrust deeper into her, making her raise her legs up, submissive, terrified of his strong, needful lust. She groaned, "Katie- What about K-Katie?"

"She knows I have to fuck you sometime," he grunted.

"Don't be so vulgar," she hissed. "Ah. God. That hurts. You're so hard- Ahn." Her legs rose higher on the bed and Dale continued to pump, giving his wife all the heavy, unrepressed force he would have expended inside Katie. He thought of Katie lying there listening to them fuck and his wife completely unaware. Mad, and horny, he fantasized vividly of a world where Katie was completely unaware, and she woke to her mother being ravaged by her father.

Dale bent over his wife's breast and began to suck on her nipple.

"No-" his wife tried again.

He didn't bother to tell her to be quiet again. He just put his hand over her mouth and thrust harder, bucking his hips between her thighs and reaching down to her knee and pressing it flat against the mattress.

"Mm- Mmm-mmm!" his wife groaned from under his hand. But even she was enjoying it a little now, he could tell that much. 

It seemed he would never cum. He could feel his own strength and he reveled in it, but it was a prison to him. He wanted them both, he wanted them side by side. He wanted to punish his wife's reluctance by making her watch him defile their daughter, and he wanted her to be repulsed and jealous of how eagerly Katie would submit to him, how she would revel in his possession of her, her wet vagina ready and wanting, waiting. He pulled out of his wife for a moment, his rock hard prick hanging over his wife's pussy, now as wet as it could be. What if he did it? What if he just rolled Katie over to him and began to fuck her, too?

Wet vaginal juice and the sweat of his cock dripped down onto his wife's stomach and made her twitch. He pulled his hand off her mouth.

"Are you done?" she whispered.

"No," he said. He held her down and pushed himself into her thick pussy lips.

"Nuh...Uh..." his wife muttered, trying to keep quiet. Her efforts to remain quiet and still had the added benefit of squeezing his cock between her tensed and resistant muscles. She turned her head to look at Katie. "You have to stop..." his wife cautioned. "Dale...

He gave one mighty thrust that made the whole bed shake. 

"Ah!" Mary cried.

"I can't stop," he said. He reeled back and pushed in again, punishing her, punishing himself.

"AH!"

Finally, Katie could play the game no longer. They heard her stir and murmur, "Mom?"

Mary reached over and put her hand on Katie's shoulder, ostensibly to comfort her but really to keep her from turning her head. "It's okay, Katie, go back to sleep. Oh, ohhh." His wife turned back to him and glared. In the dawning morning's light he could see her aroused but at her limit. She wanted him to finish, because she would not cum now. 

Dale pushed and pushed until he ejaculated, though not without a significant deluge of guilt. He grabbed at his wife's ass and fucked until he was sure he was empty. He looked at his wife, who wore a bored, tired expression. "Are you done?" she said.

"Yeah," he whispered. He pulled out of her and rolled over onto his back. 

Mary glanced over him at Katie, who looked to have settled back to sleeping soundly near the edge of the bed. "I can't believe you," she whispered at him. "What is wrong with you?"

"I don't know," Dale said, pulling the back of his hand over his eyes. "I just needed to, y'know."

His wife shook her head and settled back down. "You're lucky she's so upset," she murmured. After she rolled onto her side and the bed was quiet again, Dale felt his daughter's hand slide over the wet sheets. It flowed and explored the hair over his thigh and hip until it came to rest in his crotch. But he batted it away. He sat up and pulled himself over the edge of the bed.

He had to get away. He had to go somewhere else. He had to take a walk or quit his job or divorce his wife or leave the country. 

The rain still splattered and dripped but it was dying down. The morning light was coming in through the drips. And he stood, naked and sweating, weary already and yet awake, feeling as if he'd been awake for days. And he stared over his shoulder at the sun rising, where there weren't any answers, where there wasn't any absolution. He just stared. Out the window.



Out the Window Ch. 07



The divorce had been the most interesting turn their marriage had taken in many years, and yet Mary never really seemed that surprised, or even mad. When he told her he thought it would be best if they separated, she didn't ask why. She simply told him that she agreed, and less than a year later they were divorced. 

She hadn't fought him for much, but he made sure she and the kids were well taken care of. Robert was more upset than either of them, and Katie...well, Katie was another story...

He moved out, got a new secretary, and tried to get his life back on track. It wasn't long before he started dating again - not long at all, really. Katie, of course, kept asking to visit him, but he just didn't know what to do. If he saw her, if she came to him...he didn't - couldn't - trust himself. Thankfully, there was always something keeping them apart. The divorce began just as she was entering the University of Chicago Business School. Either he was too busy or she was too busy, and soon her breathy voice messages disappeared from his inbox. 

In truth, he did love Mary. Had loved her for so long. Unfortunately, he needed sex more than he could be loyal to her. 

Thankfully, Mary never learned the whole truth. Adultery had never come up during the divorce filing, though her lawyer had floated the possibility in the preliminary stages, hoping for more money. Mary had shot it down, just wanting it over with. She told him later she had suspected he was cheating on her for a long time, and that she hoped it was worth it.

Had it been worth it? She'd thought he was cheating on her for much longer than he really had, but then again, she must have felt how bored he was for all those years, how much his body needed release.

He kept his conversations with Katie cordial. She wanted so much more than he could give her, emotionally, paternally...physically. And he knew that if she got him alone she would just take what his body was all too weak to deny. 

But then there was the canceled seminar in Chicago. And she got everything.

* * * 

His plane had been delayed leaving the tarmac, and then foul weather had further delayed their arrival. His phone had been off during the whole flight and when he finally turned it on there were numerous messages explaining that the seminar had been canceled due to the storm. But it was worse than that. The hotel where they were to meet, and sleep, had been hit by a blackout. No one was checking in, and he had nowhere to go.

The trip was a wash, and his company offered to put him up in a hotel across town, but he was tired. Too tired not to pick up the phone when it rang in that forlorn terminal, and too tired to give Katie an excuse.

"Your secretary said the trip's canceled," she said.

"I..." He sighed. "Yeah."

"I'm having Angela make up the couch. We're just a short taxi ride from the airport."

"I don't think that's a good idea, honey."

There was the briefest of pauses. "Why not?"

"You know why not."

"But I've been telling Angela so much about you. You know, she has a thing for older, distinguished men."

"Don't," he said.

She giggled, and it was evil and enticing all at once. "Fine, daddy. No funny business. Just come over. I'll be the good little daughter, Angela will be the good little girl, and you'll be the great big man."

"Katie..."

She giggled again. "I'm sorry. We just finished a monster midterm and we're both a little tipsy."

He shouldn't, he told himself. He really shouldn't.

But it was cold and wet in Chicago, and he put himself in a taxi and gave the man her address.

* * * 

When he arrived, it was immediately clear that the girls were more than a little bit tipsy. First he was thrown off guard by Katie greeting him at the door in nothing but a black bikini top and a pair of cutoff jeans. She threw herself at him before he could say anything - his hands trapped by his suitcase and baggage - and squeezed her ample breasts against his chest.

"Daddy! It's so good to see you!"

"Hi, Dale." Angela grinned at him from behind their couch. She was shorter than Katie, darker, but it was not hard to see she wasn't wearing a bra underneath her thin, white sweater. If Katie was a creamy dish, Angela was a Hershey Kiss. Dale shook himself and set down his bags.

Katie put a wineglass in his hand before he could even get a word out.

"Girls, I- I'm really just going to crash on the couch for tonight. I'll probably be gone before you wake up. I- I might even grab a bite to eat outside, so... You don't have to wait up for me."

Katie pretended to pout and poured a little more wine in his glass. She sat down on the couch, Angela joined her, and the two looked up at him with devious eyes.

"One drink?" said Angela.

* * * 

He had more than one drink, but not much more, and he knew, after that first hour, he needed to get the hell away. 

Katie had her long legs crossed at the knees. She smoothly drew the top one over the other, curling her toes as she eased her thigh up, sweeping it back against the ragged hem of her cutoff jeans. She played with the spaghetti strap of her bikini top. Her bright eyes watched her father from over the rim of her wine glass. "How do you feel, Angela?"

Angela's mischievous smirk gently pulled away from Dale to Katie. "Pretty good. I think this wine's gone to my head, though."

"Oh yeah?" said Katie.

"Mhm," she said. She eased back against the pillows of the couch. "Are you okay, Dale?" she said. "You look so lonely over there."

"I'm fine," said Dale. He watched Angela squeeze her curves into the thick cushions. Her auburn hair rested on the back of the couch. 

"You know," said Angela, "Katie was telling me how you work in Sales. My dad works in Sales."

"Mmhm," said Dale.

Angela's pretty face broke into a big smile. "I guess you don't like to talk about work. My dad's the same way." She turned to Katie. "Hey, Katie, you want to call some boys over?"

Katie continued to rub her legs together. "Yeah, that could be fun. You wouldn't mind sharing us with some friends, would you, daddy?"

"Uh, no," he said. "Actually, I should be going along anyway."

Angela pouted. "Oh, don't be like that, dad," she said. She smiled as she called him "dad." "We just want to have a good time. You could stay."

"Oh, I don't think he wants to share," said Katie.

"I guess not," said Angela. She licked her lips. "Well if you have to go..." She drew her gaze in a languid sweep over Katie's legs to her abdominal muscles, up her firm breasts and to her face. "You want to call them over now, Katie? I'm kind of horny." She put her fingers to her lips and even, Dale was amazed to see, turned red. "Oh, sorry!" she blurted. "I can't believe I just said that with you here. How embarrassing. Forgive me?"

"It's fine," said Dale. "Look-"

"I mean, I was just looking at Katie and, well, I can't help it."

Katie dramatically shook her head. "Oh, Angie," she said with mock indignity, "stop it."

"No," said Angela, her gaze drifting between Katie and her father, "no, really."

"You think I'm hot?" said Katie.

"Mm," said Angela.

Katie scooted closer to her roommate on the couch. "Well what am I supposed to do with you just sitting there in that sweater? Doesn't she look nice in that sweater, daddy?"

Dale was watching the two girls all but burst out giggling. They were playing a game that he couldn't peel himself away from. Now they watched him with curious smiles and heavy-lidded eyes. 

"You're embarrassing me in front of your dad," Angela said. "Why don't you call those boys?"

"In a bit," said Katie. She bit her lip. "C'mere."

"You come over here."

"How about we meet in the middle?"

"Okay."

The girls leaned together on the couch and gave each other a chaste peck on the lips. Katie smiled. "Mm, that was nice." She reached out with her hands - one still holding her glass - and held Angela's face between them. Then she planted a deep kiss on her roommate's mouth. Dale could see the flash of tongue slip between two nubile pairs of lips. 

Angela leaned back. "Mm, that wasn't so nice."

"I should go," said Dale. 

"He's uncomfortable," said Angela.

"Oh, don't be that way, Da-" Katie started to say, and drew her hand back, the one holding the glass. Inside, the red wine sloshed against the rim and flew up and over, splattering over Angela's white sweater. 

"Oh, Ka-tie!"

"Oops!" said Katie, sloshing more wine over the girl's sweater. 

"You klutz!"

"Sorry," said Katie. "God, I am a klutz. Ugh. Your new sweater. Well," she said, with a sidelong glance at her father, "I guess I'll have to clean it up."

"Do it," said Angela. She set her glass down on the end table. Katie set hers on the coffee table and turned back to Angela. Her hands went to the hem of the girl's sweater and lifted up. Angela raised her arms and suddenly, throwing Dale completely for a loop, he watched as the girl's bare skin was revealed, her big breasts suddenly unrolled from the tight fabric. Katie threw the sweater over the back of the couch and pounced on her roommate. 

Katie's pink tongue slid over Angela's areola, teasing the wine dark nipple until it pointed straight up into Katie's mouth. Then Katie sucked on it gently, eyes trained on Angela the whole time, who threw her head back and sighed. "Mm, get it all off," she said. Her fingers sifted up into Katie's blonde curls and she leaned back on the couch, letting Katie lift a soft handful of her other breast and letting Dale drink in the sight of his daughter licking the buxom girl. 

"Your boobs are so soft," Katie murmured between kisses. "They're yummy."

Angela opened her eyes and trained them, like a hawk, on Dale. "I'm sorry," she said. "We just don't like to be dirty."

"Mm," said Katie, kissing up Angela's bare chest. "I'm going to have to lick you clean."

"You spilled some on my other one," said Angela. She cupped her right breast. "Unless you think your dad wouldn't mind helping to clean up?"

Katie glanced at her father over her shoulder. "I dunno. He's a pretty grouchy guy. Maybe we should call some boys our own age."

"He doesn't look grouchy to me," said Angela. "Do you want to help me, Dale?"

Dale set his wine glass on the coffee table. He pushed himself to his feet. "I'm leaving now," he said.

"But, daddy," said Katie. She reached up to her neck and grabbed the thin loop of black fabric. Slowly, she began to pull it loose. "I was just telling Angela...how much fun it is..." The bikini top came undone and the small black triangles slipped off Katie's pale, round breasts. "...to have a big, strong daddy. To clean up messes."

Angela put her hand between her legs. "Especially big messes," she said. "Big, wet messes."

"I think you girls have had too much to drink," said Dale. "I'm...leaving for a few hours." He steeled himself and strode to the door. Angela watched him go, grinning. When he was just at the door, he felt Katie's hand on his wrist.

"Hypocrite," she whispered. She pressed a key into his hand. "I promised Angela she could be herself around you..."

He turned back. She was covering her breasts with her hands. "That's the key to the apartment. We'll probably go out later." She fixed her half-lidded eyes on him. "Don't wait up. Daddy."

With all the strength he could muster, he pulled open the door. The hall seemed much bigger than when he'd come, and much longer. He put his hands in his pockets to conceal his thick erection.

* * *

He got back in late, and seeing neither of the girls about he let himself collapse on the couch. He hadn't tasted the food he'd found at the diner next door. He hadn't had a straight thought beyond the one that was in his pants. He let himself fall into fitful, fervent dreams... 

...and awoke to the plush smoothness of cool lips. He kissed, and the lips, emboldened, grew hungrier. They pecked at his mouth, opening to let a little tongue in. Dale tried to slip his own between the lips but they were adamant. No, no he couldn't put his tongue in. The kiss slid down his lower lip, cornered him at the edge of his mouth, and left him. 

Dale opened his eyes. It was still dark, the lights outside shone dimly through the blinds. Underneath his arm the spare blanket was bunched tightly to his chest. He continued to stare into the darkness until he defined Angela's shapely curves against the streetlamps. 

She was bent over the couch, staring into his eyes with wide curiosity, a knowing, almost coy look about her. Dale's eyes trailed down. The girl was wearing a tight bra, maybe purple, that squeezed her big breasts out and up, giving her a deep cleavage that broke like a thick line against the only bluer darkness. Even in the dimness he could define the bright hot pink of her panties. It was a strange thing to wear at...he checked the microwave clock...three in the morning. Angela swept two thin fingers over his mouth, and softly, tip toed away, turning to let the light shine off her round posterior. She tapped the swell of her ass cheek and beckoned him after her.

Dale watched her glide to the bathroom door and disappear through it, keeping his gaze all the while. 

Fuck it, Dale thought. He gingerly rolled off the couch and followed the girl. 

Angela waited for him at the threshold of the bathroom; her bare legs glowed from the slit of light peeking from the beneath the door. She stood very straight, her hands folded before her, her laced fingers resting on the sheer fabric of her panties. And it was sheer. As he neared, he could see the dark tresses of her pubic hair under the pink. She stared up at him through her auburn bangs as he approached, then took his hand and led him into the bathroom.

The only light was a soft yellow plug-in in the outlet, casting everything inside in a dark, candle-like glow. Dale watched Angela in that light, the way her dark hair absorbed it, glinting now and then with copper, her tan skin transformed into a healthy tawny. She watched him in the mirror now, with her big eyes, still silent. 

The light played generously over her breasts. The tight, purple bra made them jut off her chest, squeezing her almost like a corset. Beneath her heaving breasts, her smooth, healthy stomach wound down to wide hips, her swelling buttocks. The panties didn't even begin to cover the tops of her thighs, or the edge of her cheeks. The panties were small, tight, stretched over the ass. Dale watched the girl's feet step to the edge of the cabinets and stop. His eyes traced her beguiling curves back to her lean and muscular back, and then over her delicate neck, to her eyes in the mirror. 

There was nothing delicate about her, except perhaps her face. Katie was taller, beautiful. This girl was curvy, bountiful, pretty. Cute. She watched him coyly in the mirror. She still hadn't spoken a word. 

As he reached out to her, she guided his fingers to her rump. She laid it flat there. She looked down at it, on her behind, and looked up into his eyes. Then she laid her hands on the counter and leaned forward. Her ass rose under his hand. 

First he squeezed it, but that wasn't right. She shook her head. Leaning farther forward, she wiggled her bum for him. He started to step forward but she shook her head again. With her left hand she patted her butt cheek, and then stretched up on her toes, indicatively. 

Tentatively, he patted her ass. A small smile flitted upon her lips and she nodded, a very small action.

Dale glanced once over his shoulder. The bathroom door was closed. The soft yellow-orange light cast shadows over the paneling. He turned back to Angela. He raised his left hand. He placed his right on her fleshy hip. And he smacked her bum, lightly. 

Angela gave a little "Mm" and rocked forward. 

He glanced at her in the mirror inquiringly. She nodded eagerly and leaned into the counter. Dale stepped behind her and gripped her hip more surely. He pulled his hand back and spanked her ass, with more authority this time. In the quiet bathroom, the sound echoed lightly across the walls. Angela gave another "Hm" and rocked forward. She squeezed her thighs together and shook her ass for him.

Dale smacked the soft flesh of her left ass cheek; the skin yielded under his palm. This time the sound was a tight "pak!" and Angela swayed with it, as if he were doing more than spanking, as if the sensation of his spanking penetrated deeper into her core. Dale didn't hesitate the next time. The slap came suddenly against her smooth buttocks. She swayed. Dale pulled his hand back farther and spanked her. Deep in her throat, Angela moaned. 

He decided to stop but Angela leaned her ass far back. He laid into it, their skin stinging smartly against each other. The next time she didn't expect the strength of his smack and she rocked to swiftly, her hands nearly buckling against the bathroom counter. "Nnh, Daddy," she whispered. Her eyes were closed.

Dale stepped forward and grabbed two thick handfuls of the girl's bottom. She didn't resist, only twisted and squirmed in his grip. Her voice was breathy and urgent, "Daddy, I'm sorry-"

He reeled back and spanked her ass. She cried out softly. "I'm sorry-" she gushed. He slapped her plump ass cheek and she moaned. "Please, Daddy..." He spanked her, hard this time, and she bent forward. "You're humiliating me..." His right hand dug into her thigh, and he spanked her. "Oh..." she said it so softly it was barely a whisper. 

He spanked her, and she apologized for more. "I'm sorry I dressed this way, daddy. I didn't go out with any boys." His fingers whipped her posterior. Red marks of his fingerprints glowed on her bottom. "Believe me..." she whispered. His palm struck her bottom. "Ah..." She pushed her buttocks into his hand and gyrated. "All the girls dress this way... I'm a good girl." He pulled his hand away and slapped her pink panties. "I'm a good girl! Ahh..."

The panties were driving him wild. Their flimsy tightness invited him between that cotton crack. He grabbed the elastic and proceeded to squeeze it over her hips. She flexed against his fingers, undulated to work against his tugging hands. "Ah!" she cried softly. He dragged one side down over her right buttock. "No!" she whispered, her voice straining to stay quiet. He yanked the left side down and dragged them over her legs. When he reached the ground, not neglecting to let his face graze the warm springiness of her red ass cheek, her yanked them against her ankles repeatedly until she was forced to step out of them or teeter over. 

He flung the panties into the trash bin and pushed her to the counter. "No..." Angela moaned. "Don't look at my pussy, daddy."

He forced her legs apart with his big hand and felt up between her thighs. Her pubic hair was matted and wet. Her soft pussy lips were coated in mucous. "Ahhh..." Angela hissed. "I'm not a bad girl, daddy."

He spanked her bare bottom forcefully. "Ahn!" Angela cried. He spanked her again. Her right foot went up on the ball and she ground her toes into the tile at the edge of the carpet. "Mmmnnn," she groaned. He slapped her ass and she fell forward. "Oh!" She hung her head and let her hair cover her eyes. "Daddy...I'm sorry..."

Rather than collapse she leaned against the counter, her elbows almost at right angles, and spread her legs further apart, planting her heels in the bathroom rug and pushing her ass out. "Don't hurt me," she groaned, deeper, less plaintively. He swung his hand up, underhanded, catching the swell of the space between her thigh and cheek. Angela rocked forward and he could smell her feminine musk. "Agh..." she groaned. 

He was as hard as timber. Blood swelled within his penis. He pulled his pants down and kicked them aside without even thinking about it, tossed off his shirt. He was now naked, and erect. Angela was bare from the waist down, the only piece of clothing on her the purple push-up bra. Her hands clutched at the bathroom counter. She snuck a glance over her arm at him, and then his stiff prick. She swung her eyes back to the mirror quickly. "Oh, Daddy, don't... Haven't I been a good girl, daddy?" 




Out the Window Ch. 07



She wiggled her bum slowly, easing away from the counter, until her ass cheeks caught his prick and rolled it against her crack. "Haven't I learned my lesson, daddy? Oh... Oh, I"m so sorry." Dale gave her ass one more solid crack and she screamed hoarsely; it was a breathless hiss. Her whole body shook. Her legs trembled and made her stomach quiver and her breasts jiggle and shake.

Dale pressed up against her and grabbed her tits. He squeezed them with harsh, unrelenting hunger. She groaned. "No, daddy. Don't touch me like that- No, I'm a good girl, daddy." He bit into her neck and peeled the push up bra down her nipples. "Ahh... Please. I'm so horny." He sawed his penis into her buttocks, and she rocked against him. Her fingers scrabbled over his heavy hands. "What are you doing to me, daddy?"

Keeping his penis pressed against her crack, she opened a drawer in the counter. She pulled a bottle out, rolling the drawer closed with the heel of her hand. Her body continued to shake freely.

Dale didn't say a word. The girl was turning him on with every move she made, with every word she said. She didn't need him to do much more than be there, and he was glad, and burning, for it.

Angela stood up lithely. She twirled around, she folded her knees on the rug, and popped the cap off the plastic bottle. She squeezed a thick puddle of clear KY jelly into her hand and began to coat him, swiftly. The girl's fingers stroking the cold gel over his cock was incredible. With a groan, he pushed forward, trailing the sticky goo over her chin. "Oh, oh, daddy, no..." She squirted another fat dollop into her palm and drew it over his shaft. She was really slopping it on. 

She still continued to tremble. So much so that even in the tight bra (the girl, on her knees, gave him ample view of the lovely tops of her breasts and the now exposed nipples) he could see the skin jiggle and flow. He knew what was coming and he wanted it worse than he could possibly articulate. Finally he could take no more of the girl's long strokes on his cock and he pulled her up. She went up with the KY, letting him push her against the counter and then squeezing more of the gel into her hand and reaching behind her to slather it haphazardly over her ass crack, her thin fingers reaching deeper inside. 

"No," the girl whined, "not the ass, daddy. Please not in the ass." Dale watched the girl finger her asshole and he was enthralled. He grabbed her elbows and bent her forward. 

Angela dropped the bottle of KY and swung down, desperately, her hands clutching at the edge of the counter. "I promise I'll be good, daddy. Don't...d..." Dale brushed the skin of the girl's tense lower back and wrap his fingers around his gooey shaft. "Don't you want me to be a good girl?" she whispered. 

His wet head met the pucker of her jellied anus. Angela sucked air through her teeth. "My pussy's too tight, daddy. It hurts... So I let boys take me up the ass." Dale knew it was the truth. The girl knew what she was doing. "Do you want what I gave the boys?" But already she was backing up on him. "Do you want your slutty princess?" she whispered. Their mutual moistness made the first part easy, but even so, she had never tried to fit a penis his size up her bottom. The head of his cock slid slowly into the flesh of her rectum. 

"Oh. God."

Dale sunk himself as cautiously as he could bear to go. 

"I'm. Cumming." The psychological high was overwhelming. Angela was cumming. He could tell by the way her stomach rippled and her thighs strained to keep from collapsing. 

"Daddy, no," she managed to utter. The rest of her sound squeezed weakly from her chest, as he squeezed further into her anus. "No, daddy, no..." Angela gasped, but this time trying to form words. She rocked back and forth on her feet as he continued to plunge. "I'm sorry I teased you..." Her hands dragged against the bathroom counter. "Ha-ah..." she grunted as he pushed his thick cock deep into the girl's tight rectum. "I ca-an't-" she said. 

In the dark light he could see the girl's open mouth stretch, as if trying to breathe, as if she couldn't breathe. But he could hardly stop himself. He shoved himself deep into her ass, pushing in, pushing on. Angela went bolt upright, her hands flailing out. His hand snapped to her stomach, his other to squeeze her tight tits. Her hands covered his. They were standing, his cock sticking straight up the young girl's asshole. His left hand pushed her stomach down.

"I don't even know you-" Angela gasped. And her body trembled.

For the first time, Dale eased out. Angela groaned. And he pushed back in.

He gently bent her forward and laid her hands on the counter. His fingers gripped her hips and he slowly drew out, and plunged back in.

"Oh. Oh, God." Her copper hair was in her eyes. "Oh, fuck, you're so big." She grunted when he squeezed her stomach, and she turned it into a groan. "Fuck, you're so big, daddy." She jerked forward with his powerful thrust. "Fuck," she said again. "Fuck." 

She swayed her head from side to side. "Fuck. You're Katie's daddy... Do you like it, Daddy? Do you like your big cock up my tight ass?" He leaned in, and she shuddered. "I knew you would. You punished me, daddy. For being such a good girl. Am I a bad girl now, daddy?" Her voice rose with every breath, becoming tighter, and deeper. "Every night I dreamed about it." His penis throbbed inside her. "I stayed awake burning for it. Waiting for you to open my door, Daddy." She ground her thick ass against his body. "I masturbated so loud when mommy was gone. Oh, God, Daddy. I'd let you fuck me so hard, Daddy." Her legs shook even harder and she let herself be jerked back and forth by his cock. 

"I've always wanted to be your little whore," she moaned. The girl massaged her tits passionately, entirely given over to his back door violation. 

Dale snapped the clasp off her bra. It came with a SNAK and tumbled forward off her tits. Angela pulled the bra down her arms and let his hands gather her heavy breasts in his hands. "Don't tell mommy," she groaned. He squeezed her until she cried out. She began to butt up against his hips. She pushed against the counter and began to thrust her ass against him, hard, harder, pumping his cock in and out of her anus. "Punish me, daddy- punish me- Spank me!" she screamed. 

He slapped her ass. Angela cried out. "I'm so fucking wet," she panted. The girl was hardcore. She wanted his whole cock and she wanted it hard and fast. She kept trying to squeeze him deeper, and he was happy to oblige. 

Finally, he grabbed her hands and pulled her away from the counter. His penis still engorged and plugged up her rectum, he bent her over the toilet and made her grab the rim. Her ass upturned, he pushed himself deeper, down, the angle both straightening his cock and exerting pressure on her G spot. His cock was too thick for her, but still she impaled herself on it. "Oh, God, it hurts-" she hissed. She lowered her head. He stroked her neck and dug his fingers into her tight muscles. "It hurts and I like it," she said. She reared back and curved her ass up at the last moment. The sweat ran down her forehead in thick rivulets. She panted without restraint. Inside her rectum, the shape of his cock pushed against the outer wall of her soft pussy. "Tell me I'm your little princess!"

"You're a bad girl," he grunted. He tugged at her hair.

"Yes," she hissed. "Call me a bad girl, daddy-"

He spanked her ass. Angela gave a giddy squeal of arousal. "You're a bad girl."

"You want to cum in my ass, daddy?"

"Oh yes, baby."

Angela shook. "I know you do... I saw you staring. You're making me cum, Daddy." Dale stuck his fingers into Angela's gushing pussy and the girl screamed at him. "Fuck me, Daddy! Fuck me harder, Daddy. Fuck your princess!"

Dale ejaculated into his daughter's roommate.

"Fill me with that cum," Angela gasped. She bent over and flexed her ass with each of his thrusts. Every pulse of his penis discharged more of his semen into her rectum, and the fluid covered her tight walls, squirting back, smearing the girl's springy buttocks. Angela groaned with every thrust. "Unh! UNH. UNNH." 

And then it was over. She shyly pulled herself off of his cock. His cum dripped from her anus when she turned. And, as if in mental correspondence, he picked up the few pieces of his clothing, she smiled at him, and he left her in the bathroom to wash herself, and recover.



Out the Window Ch. 08



Balls drained, feeling empty but relieved by magnitudes he hadn't thought possible, he walked, slowly, back to the couch. There was, as always, a slight tingle in the backs of his hands and the small of his back, and even in his satisfied (but not quite satiated) balls, a desirous tingle that pressed against the underside of his brain like fingertips imbued with static shocks, crisp snaps that fired at his imagination dark and greedy desires, but he refused to give in to them. He'd sit, on the couch, and wait for Angela to finish in the bathroom. Once she did, he'd go in, clean himself, and go back to sleep. That would be the end of this already salacious night. That would be the end of it, he promised himself.

But Katie, of course, knew otherwise. She was waiting for him in her doorway, just waiting, without the lights turned on but her body clear in the moonlight. Dale stopped by the couch. Katie was a living silhouette, and as she came forward her curves, her tall, graceful features, came into focus. 

His daughter's curls were resplendent, even having been slept on (though Dale wondered if she'd actually been sleeping), and they framed her head in rich, silky ringlets. 

Her legs were bare, her smooth skin looking like it had been oiled. The pale sheen of her shins and athletic thighs went all the way up to a pair of sinfully sheer panties. Dale stared at them. She might as well have not worn the panties at all. He could see the bare slit of her shaved pussy straight through the fabric, even in the dark room. His eyes traveled up (and his cock did the same) to her cut abdominals, the innocuous bellybutton, to the two plump dewdrops that sank from beneath a small, loose top that had no other function than to titillate. The bottom of the baby-t had been cut away so that the ripe undersides of Katie's breasts fell free to expose everything up to her nipples. 

Her nipples were still hidden by the barest margin of shirt, but Dale badly wanted to reach out and brush it away, and see them, let them harden in his palms. He couldn't help wondering how they would swell beneath his touch, her back arch to offer them fully to him for his enjoyment. The rest of the shirt was cut down the middle to show off Katie's bra-less cleavage. Her mouth, her full lips puckered in mute enjoyment of his inspection.

"I don't know if it's because you own it...or because you know you shouldn't touch it...but no one stares at my body the way you do," she said evenly, stopping less than arm's length away from him in front of the couch. 

"I don't own you," Dale said quietly, his eyes now locked on to her dazzling eyes.

"You made it," she said. Her eyes fell on Angela's closed bathroom. The sounds of her washing were almost loud in the apartment in the dead of night. "Did you have fun?" she whispered.

"Katie..."

"Shh-sh, daddy," she whispered. "I don't want to play that game tonight. C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." She reached down and took his hand, which was still so big compared to hers, and glanced at his cock, already rising from his legs. She smirked. "You're just like me. You can never get enough." 

She turned and tossed her hair. Once they crossed the threshold of her door, she let go of his hand, and shut it behind them. Then she flicked the dull light on in her bathroom. "Unless it's the right person. Of course then I just want it more and more."

The shower had a place for one person to sit, and she led him to that. She sat him down on it. He, meanwhile, could only watch in silence. It was too late to argue, and he couldn't help himself from drinking in her confident, heavenly body, her cool, measured voice. The smoldering lust that danced just behind her eyes. 

Katie twisted a knob on the shower fixture and unhooked the nozzle from its placement above the stall. She pulled a hand cloth off the side of the shower, then turned the H knob until a light, warm drizzle spilled from the shower head.

Katie got down gingerly to her knees, still wearing the panties and cut up t-shirt, and lightly trailed the shower head over her father's sticky penis. "Too hot?" she asked. Her eyes flitted up at him. He shook his head. 

She worked it in a rhythm. She'd spray his penis with the weak stream coming from the shower head, then she'd wipe at him with the cloth. She did this gently, without taking him in hand. She took her time, cleansing his foreskin of the fluids of he and Angela's rough intercourse. Without her ministrations, just the sight of her brought his penis to attention. With the warm bathing, he was growing harder than could soon stand.

"I think Vanessa was right," Katie continued, her voice betraying no intent beyond making simple conversation. But her hands began to linger over his prick, the strokes of her cloth becoming longer, the weight of her hand becoming heavier and the grip tighter. "We probably are nymphomaniacs... But incest is so taboo... I never thought I could be so... naughty. 

"But one day..." Katie rested the cloth on Dale's thigh and gently drizzled the showerhead over his cock, letting the soap slowly stream down to his balls. "One day Vanessa took this big, big dildo... and she got behind me..." Katie's eyes trailed from Dale's tumescent penis to his eyes. "And she said, 'This is what it feels like to be fucked by your father.'" Katie bit her lip. "She fucked me hard. It hurt - not the way you do it - but it was so big. I had to open my legs wide. And she made me call her 'daddy.' Oh, 'daddy, daddy' I moaned. It was...I couldn't get over it. I came so hard. 

"Of course, I made Vanessa pay for hurting me. I had her lie flat on the bed and I sat on her mouth, made her eat me out. I rubbed myself over her face, put my hands flat on the bed, told her how horrible she was for doing that to me, making me say that." 

The image of his daughter and Vanessa eating each other out in bed made Dale's penis fairly unmanageable. Katie eyed it possessively.

"I was attracted to her," she said. "It was because I knew she could do things to me. Things men couldn't do. Or at least..." Katie left the cloth on Dale's leg and slowly, tenderly, drew the tip of her finger down the head of her father's bulging cock. "...none of the men I knew."

The thin finger slid down the head of Dale's penis. It traced the thick vein down the side. "You know, the funny thing is, Angela's actually a really shy girl." Dale thought of the way the girl lubed him up and took him into her ass and wondered if that was really true. But how well did any of us ever know our friends and neighbors? he thought. Katie continued to trace the lines of his penis with slow, teasing strokes, watching it shake and twitch at her command. "She hardly ever goes out with a boy unless she really likes him. But she gets so horny. We all do," she said. "We've never done more than make out, but we sometimes help each other get off by telling each other naughty stories. Really naughty stories," she emphasized, finally wrapping her fingers around his thick cock. She gave one, firm squeeze up towards his head, and made eye contact when she did it. 

"So big," she told him. "So ready." She let her mouth hang open for one lewd second. "I'd never have believed it...but I imagined it." She softly flexed her fingers up and down his shaft.

"I guess all girls have a fantasy or two about their fathers. That was Angela's favorite one. She has more than one or two. I think she really wants her father." The first bead of precum appeared at the slit of Dale's cock. Katie worked her grip up towards his head to make it trickle off the round mushroom. It ran down to her thumb, and she used it to smear it back into his skin. The shower head had been left at the shower's floor, wetting his feet and her knees. Neither one of them paid it much mind. "You know how it is. Your fantasies are always darker than what you'd really do. That's what makes them fun...taboo...exciting. Wrong."

Katie removed her hand from her father's penis and raised it to her face. She met his gaze as she brought her thumb to her lips. She wet the soft pad of it with her tongue, and then sucked it into her mouth. She sucked her thumb clean and then she brought it back to Dale's cock, wiping her clear saliva over the foreskin.

"So I used to tell her stories about what we'd do. Don't worry, I made sure she knew they were fantasies. But oh, daddy, she got so hot." Her delicate fingers squeezed his shaft until the head bulged red in her hand. "I made her so hot that some nights I wondered if she'd make an excuse to leave town and go back home. When she told me the fantasies she'd had, well...I could only imagine what she'd do if she got herself ahold of a real man. An older man. An older man with a big..." Katie lowered her face towards Dale's lap, "juicy..." he felt her breath warm his wet, hard, "cock..." 

His daughter's mouth swallowed him down to his length. He swung his head back until it knocked the tile of the shower stall. The whole shower seemed to shake. Katie's tongue lathered up the underside of his shaft, her lips kissing the base of his prick even as his big penis forced its way to the back of her slick, gagging throat. Drool dropped freely when Katie opened her lips wider, and he knew she did it to only further titillate him. The saliva dribbled down to his balls, running over his hairy scrotum in rivulets. She pulled off him and plunged her mouth back down, letting his cockhead tickle her tonsils, working the bulging skin of his penis against her cheeks. 

He couldn't help it, he had to reach up and run his fingers through her golden curls, then gently, push her head down, even deeper. "Suck my cock," he heard himself gasp. 

"Yes, daddy," she choked. She let out a submissive gurgle and slowly, agonizingly slowly, relaxed her throat and took him further, into her soaking throat. 

"Oh my God," Dale groaned. "Oh my God, Katie."

He felt his member sliding out of her throat, trailing cum over the back of her tongue and slipping, finally, out the plump lips of his beautiful, teary-eyed daughter. She wiped her face with the back of her arm and smiled crookedly. "Did you like that, daddy?"

"Oh God," Dale groaned. His prick stood up straight, wet and pulsing. It shined with her copious saliva and he could see more cum mixed with her spit at the corners of her precious lips. Without thinking, he reached for her face, pressing his mouth to hers as they kissed passionately. She twined her arms around his neck while his tongue explored her nimble mouth. She moaned into his kisses. He held her face tightly to his own. "This can't happen," he said breaking away from her. "God, Katie, this can't, can't happen."

"Don't you think I know that?" she hissed. "Touch me." She grabbed his hands and shoved them up her shirt. He couldn't suppress his groan as his fingers worked their way into her soft, bountiful breasts. Every twist of her young body elicited more exploration, as every graze of his fingertips brought her greater pleasure, just to have his hands on her, especially squeezing her, especially wanting her. 

"You fucked me in you and mom's bed," she gasped. "You want me so bad." She crossed her arms over her head and pulled her shirt off her shoulders. Her round breasts fell free. Her own hands cupped the backs of his and she arched her back, pushing herself into his greedy palms. "I can feel how badly you want me, and I want you, too. Daddy, I can't stand how much I want you. There's something wrong with both of us. We just want to fuck each other." Her left hand reached down between her legs and began to rub her clit furiously through the thin fabric. "It's sex. God, it's sex. That's what Angela and I talked about so many nights. The difference between fucking anyone else and incest is that it changes everything. It changes it forever."

Katie threw herself back. Dale's hands were suddenly deprived of her luscious breasts and his first instinct was to reach for her again. But she rose before him, a statuesque blonde, a youthful, curvaceous nymph, and reached for her panties. She peeled them down off her bare vagina, sliding them languidly down her thighs. "One night, after a big game, I was still in my cheer outfit, and I told Rob he could fuck me in it. As a reward for winning, or something." 

Dale watched the panties slide down his daughter's knees. 

"And I let him fuck me from behind, let him do me doggy style." 

Dale watched them drop into the wet puddle at the bottom of the shower. Katie stepped forward, absolutely naked. She put her hand on Dale's shoulder, her other hand on his neck. "And he called me a whore. It was just one of those things he said during sex. I didn't know if it bothered me. Except this time, when he said it, I thought, for some reason, I don't know why - I don't know why - of you. When he called me a whore, in my cheerleader outfit, his dick just ramming in and out of me, not knowing how to please me, I thought, 'if you could see me now...' And I started to let my mind wander, and for whatever reason I thought of you fucking me, for the first time while having sex, I imagined it was you, inside me, imagining you hating me, but loving me, touching me..." 

She took Dale's hand and pressed it to her stomach. He could feel her heartbeat thrumming away even there. "I was as turned on as I was ashamed, and I came, and Rob thought he was so good for getting me off. I didn't dare tell him what I thought. Not until Vanessa fucked me did I ever let myself go to that place again."

Katie took her father's hands and led him, gently, to his feet. He seemed to tower over her in the shower. She led him, the two of them naked, his member erect and undeniable now, her body flushed in all the ripe places, to the shaggy rectangle of the bathroom mat, the white tile around it cold, and austere. Katie turned, and when she bent over she gave Dale a full, unmerciful view at her lush, round ass. She kneeled at the mat, then swung her body around and sat herself on it, her knees up, her toes together. "It makes me feel dirty. It makes me feel powerful." Dale was entranced by her. She was almost panting now. It was like being hypnotized. 

"Angela wants to be her daddy's dirty little princess. I just want..." Katie raked her fingers up her thighs until she reached her knees then, her fingers tip-toeing over her skin, she spread her legs apart, "...to feel my father cum inside me." She cupped her fingers over her thighs and drew them in to her pussy. Dale could see it there on the dirty bathroom mat, glistening, red. "He can call me whatever he wants..." 

Katie's eyes were fixated on his dick. "That big fucking thing. You horny bastard. Why didn't you stop me?" Dale kneeled on the mat. He pushed his daughter gently to the floor. 

She laid flat, her head resting on the cold tile. "What are you doing, daddy?" she cooed. Her hands flew up to his chest. "Ah," she said preemptively, half at the touch of his hand on her pussy, half at the suddenness of the cold tile. He cradled the back of her head in his hand. With his other hand, he took his thick prick and lowered it, closer, and closer, to his daughter's quivering thighs. His cockhead, already sticky with the girl's saliva, brushed the meaty lips of her labia. "Aghh," Katie growled. "Say it. Say you want to fuck me."

"I want to fuck you," he said. 

"Say it. Say it again!"

"I want to fuck you, Katie."

"You want to fuck me hard."

He could barely hold himself back. The head of his dick squeezed between her pussy lips. Katie's head arched back in his hand. "I want to fuck you hard," he said.

"Here on the bathroom floor."

"On the bathroom floor."

"Did you like giving it to Angela, daddy?"

"Yes."

"You were thinking about me."

"Yes." As if it had a mind of its own, as he could barely believe it, his cock slid into - deeper into - further into - slickly into - his daughter's stretching, dripping pussy. Katie strained her taut stomach, her sudden cry sounding as painful as it did orgasmic, her long legs stretching out on the tile as if every inch he slid into her shocked her and hurt her and pleased her and stripped her of any and all control. As if his penis pushing into her fulfilled every lasting wish she every dreamed up, and all of those dreams were dripping with her cum. 

"Give it to me," she groaned. "Give it to me now..."

He pushed himself farther and farther in, until his toes were pushing him forward on the floor and his cock was buried, up to its balls, deep inside his daughter. It was a tight fit, but she moved with him, raising her knees to receive the full length of his swollen member, her arms tightly wound about him to keep from being pushed across the floor. Katie let out a shrill cry that ended in a shivering gasp as he pulled out the first time, clasped her buttocks in his hand, and plunged inside her again. 

"God...damn it..." Katie groaned. Her vagina was so tight. He held her to him now, desperately, his hand cradling her dazzling hair and his other gripped tightly around her ass cheek, and she clung to his back until her nails scratched out blood. 

She opened her legs wider for him, the man who was her father and, to both of their deep guilt, the most fervent lover she'd ever had. His big cock opened her pussy and made her scream. The fire in her belly was being stoked, in rough, uncontrollable impacts. She let her father dominate her like a wild beast. She knew, and in this knowledge she felt her first orgasm building, that if she told him to stop he never would; she could never stop him once she'd invited him into her pussy, and her father's great strength and size made her absolutely powerless against him. She was enslaved to his penis, the petals of her delicate pussy under attack by his masculine fertilization. 

Fertilization, she thought, the feel of his dick expanding and showering her uterus with its seed, her father's seed, her father's thick, copious semen, exploding in her body the way it exploded in her mouth, tainting their relationship forever in all its brutal, explicit voluptuousness, the thought of it sent shivers up her back. "Ah..." she cried. 

"Are you gonna cum, baby?" she heard her father say.

"Yes, daddy," she said obediently, her breath catching in her throat. "Did I make your big dick hard, daddy?" 

"Yes," he groaned. "Yes, God, yes..."

"I wished you'd fucked me in front of mommy, daddy," she continued to speak, now babbling uncontrollably as her orgasm began below her bouncing breasts and flushed down, down to the tight ring of her vagina constricting over her father's massive cock. "Oh God I wished you'd forced me like a bad girl."

"You are a bad girl," he grunted. 

"Fuck me like you want to fuck mommy, daddy."

"You won't tell her, baby?"

"I p- I p-promise, oh, oh, God!" She orgasmed around his dick ecstatically. She immediately stopped bucking her hips and threw her arms and legs around his body, letting him plunge deeper and deeper. She came so hard she felt tears sting her eyes. Behind them stars burst. "I'm a bad girl..." she gasped. "Oh God I'm such a bad, bad girl..."

"You're my bad girl," he growled into her ear. She pressed her cheek hard against his jaw and mewled wordlessly.

He gripped one of her breasts without mercy. 

"You bastard," she groaned. "You bastard, daddy. You're not supposed to fuck me. I'm your little girl."

Dale reeled back. He came up to a sitting position to watch his penis glide in and out of her soaking pussy. "Yes," he groaned. "But you need to be fucked."

"I do," she agreed. "And you need to use me, daddy." His glistening shaft squelched between her bare lips and she undulated on the bathroom rug, folding her belly and wriggling like a snake. She shoved herself roughly against his cock. The two of them groaned. "All better, daddy?"




Out the Window Ch. 08



"God, yes..."

"What would mom say if she woke up while you were fucking me?" she whispered. Her perky breasts squashed against his chest. "Would you turn me over and start spanking me? Tell her I'd been bad?" Katie massaged his prick by tightening the walls of her vagina. "I had to listen to you fuck her, because you're such a horny man. You fucked Angela. You fucked mom. You fucked me. I bet you fucked your secretary." Dale groaned and thrust up hard into Katie. He felt the sweat slide off her tits, off her ass and drip onto his balls. She moaned. "Anh. That's okay, daddy. I know you can't help it. You have to feed the monster. ...And we all know. We can see it in your eyes. You're...an animal." 

Katie pushed her father's chest, making him lie back so that she could straddle him. She made him grip her hips. "When's it going to be enough, daddy? Did you want me to take you into the dressing room when I was trying on my cheer outfits?"

She ran her hands down her neck, over her round shoulders, over her full breasts, down her ribs, her belly, down to her clitoris, and then pushed her fingers up his pubic hair, up his belly, over his chest, until she was leaning once more over his face. She bent down lower, down to his ear. "Do you want to know a secret? I used to masturbate to you when you took me shopping. Before I tried on any clothes...I'd stand there in my underwear and watch myself in the mirror...and finger myself thinking about you on the other side of the door."

Dale's whole body shook beneath her and Katie gave a devilish smile. 

"If I asked you to, would you...take me into the dressing room...make me try it on for you...without any panties? Ah. And then, open your fly...anh...and pull it out, and make me split for you? Ahh. Did you want it then, daddy? Did you want me on my knees. Oh, don't- Don't stop." Katie shut her eyes tight. Her next orgasm was building. "You can go for days, can't you? Want to squeeze every last bit of juice out of this pussy? You know how wet I get for you? You know how wet I get when I know I'm going to...fuck my father?" Her breathing grew more ragged, her voice more shrill. "You know how wet I get when I tease you? When I think of you pushing that big...fucking...thing...inside me...pushing me...making me...ahh...making me..." Dale planted his hands on her ass and pushed deeper. Katie's nipples bounced against him. 

"When's it going to be enough?" she gasped. "When I graduate? Will you pull my gown up, eat my pussy? Fuck me? Fuck me over my bed? When I get married? Are you going to fuck me in my wedding gown? OH GOD. AAHHH." Her golden head was rocking back and forth in his vision. Her curls stuck to her slick forehead. Her skin shined with the bold perspiration of lust. She smelled strongly, and that musk overpowered him. "Ah... When I'm pregnant? When I've got milk in my breasts? When they swell? OH, God, daddy, will you suck me?" She reached for his scalp and pulled his hair, hard. "Don't stop-" she whispered. It squeezed out of her as little more than a squeak, a whimper. "Don't stop, y-yes...call me mommy. Did mommy make it all better?"

"Yes, mommy," Dale groaned.

"Does mommy let you fuck her sweet, young pussy, daddy?"

"Yes, baby."

Katie ground against his cock. "Oah God I'm cumming so hard..." she cried. "Don't stop- Don't stop, fuck you. I love you, fuck you- Yes. Yes!"

Katie bucked atop him like an epileptic, held in place only by his strong grip on her buttocks and back and his iron penis keeping her from wiggling her wet center so hard that it made her slide across the floor. She screamed. 

Dale flipped her over onto her back, onto the bathroom rug. His cockhead balanced on the edge of her vulva, and then he drove himself back in. He didn't stop. Couldn't stop. The sound of their sopping genitalia mixing with each other was audible, obscene, loud. Katie seemed to lose her faculty for words for several seconds. Her eyes rolled up into her head. She looked like a demon. "Call me whatever you want," she gasped. 

He pumped her little ass and asked, "Do you want to be called a slut?"

She pushed her mouth back into his, their bodies banging against each other, her hands shakily supporting her weight even as her father pushed her down, down. "Am I a slut, daddy? Is that what happens to girls who get hot for their fathers' cocks?"

"Is my daughter a slut?"

He pulled her hair and she arched her neck back. "Yes..." she grunted. 

"Take it, baby. Take the whole thing."

"Give it to me..." she moaned. "It's all yours..." He clutched at her bright, flushed buttocks. She screamed again, and Dale was mesmerized by the sight of her breasts as they swung between her arms. "Let it all out, daddy," she gasped, even as he pumped her harder. Harder.

"Is this what you want, princess?"

The shaking began from the soles of her feet. It traveled up her long legs, jiggling her belly, her breasts, making her whole body quake.

"Oh, God, you're going to do it. Please do it. Do it to me!" she hissed. "Fuck me, please- please I can't stand it- Give it to me. Cum in me. Violate me." His hand reached up to tug at her hair. "Fuck me, daddy."

"God...Katie..." he groaned. Could he? Could he do this to his daughter? How could he not, after all this time, how could he not do the horny, hellacious thing he'd wanted to do since the moment she...

Katie reached down and squeezed his balls. "Give your little girl all that fucking cum, papa."

He exploded. He felt the semen pop from his cock, jet from his vas deferens and through his urethra, squirting inside Katie's pussy, splashing the supple muscle of her tight, contracting vagina, his cock pulsating inside of her, her legs spasming wildly. Katie screamed again, without restraint, a low, moaning scream that cursed her father and emboldened him at the same time. Katie orgasmed harder than she ever had before, pinned under her father's throbbing cock, attached to it, penetrated by it. 

Dale and Katie continued to fuck each other relentlessly, her fluids leaking out of her onto the already soaked rug beneath them, he emptying his balls into the girl, spurred on by her insistent cries for more, for him to give it all up, give everything up, relieve himself, fill her.

"Daddy..." she gasped, searching for his mouth, all but blind. They kissed violently, neither sure who they were now, but both needed to hang on to the last, twitching throes of their guilt-ridden, addictive consummation. 

They labored for breath. His thrusts slowed but his penis continued to pump its seed into her young body, where it pooled inside her, a thick mixture of their sweat and sex. She would be sore in the morning. They both would. One last "Nnh" grunted its way out of Katie's mouth, simultaneous with her final pelvic squeeze, his last squirt, and his penis slipping, soft and conquered, from her tender pussy lips.