7 comments/ 103697 views/ 61 favorites She Always was An Unusual Girl By: ParagonOfVirtue She always was an unusual girl. She refused to cry for her first day of life, which had the doctors (as well as her mother and I) quite worried, but she was fine, just determined to be different. Her mother, Anna, always thought there was something odd about her, and often refused to hold her. I pencilled it in to post-natal depression, but she refused to get over it, and her interactions with our little Madeline were always a little strained. I guess I tried to make up for this lack of parental support by heaping more attention and love on our little girl, which put a bit of a strain on our relationship. Madeline didn't speak until she was three. We had her tested for hearing impairments, learning difficulties and a variety of other possible causes. We needn't have worried, as she suddenly, without warning, one day said, "Daddy, how come Uncle Joey only visits when you are not here?" Unsurprisingly, this opened up a huge can of worms. Anna cried and started throwing blame every which way. I tried to get her to talk it through, but she said she didn't love me anymore, and couldn't stand her daughter, who always looks at her strangely and acts so strangely. So, I got sole custody of Madeline, and we watched Anna pack her things, get into 'Uncle Joey's' car and drive off, not once looking at us. I stood there at a loss, wondering how this could have happened, and a small hand snuck into my own. I looked down at my daughter, a smile lit up her bright green eyes, and she said, "Don't be sad, daddy. I will still be here to look after you." She was completely unfazed with her mother leaving. As she grew up, she continued to do odd things. She had an invisible friend, who apparently liked to stack things, which lead to odd piles of books, often 6 feet high (I never worked out how she managed this). I would wake, and she would be standing by the bed, staring at me, her face inches from my own. She would say that she was 'protecting my sleep', whatever that meant. Her drawings would be unbelievably detailed, even from a young age, and would be things like evil princesses kidnapping poor monsters, or strange amalgamations of different animals, which she each gave names and a detailed backstory to. As she got older she was always a bit of a loner. This wasn't because she had trouble making friends, she just never seemed to want to, or even see the point of them. One day she did make a friend, and they became really close for a time, only for Madeline to call the friendship off, as it had only been an 'experiment'. She grew older still, and still remained odd. She always seemed not quite there, as if she lived in her own little world. She wore oversized baggy clothes that hid her body, even in summer, and wore her pretty blonde hair way back in a ponytail. She wore large glasses all the time, even though she only really needed them for reading. Even though I could see she was odd, I still loved her. She would tell me everything about her days, and we would work on the car together, or watch movies, and she became a friend as much as a daughter. She also enjoyed sitting in the corner during my fortnightly poker games with my friends, just listening to us joke around. Looking back, I think that was where the big problem may have begun. Big Al was a big of a braggart, and liked to make fun of us all, in a good natured way. He also had just taken a large hand off of me, throwing down a full house over my three two's. "Damn, Harry," he said, "What is with you today? Did you forget to charge your poker brain before the game? I am taking everything form you!" "Give it a rest, Al," I replied, feeling grumpy about the loss. "Not in the mood." "Everything okay, Harry?" asked Little Al. Little Al was very short, barely reaching 5 feet tall. He is quiet and sensitive, and a real friend to have around. "He's alright, just having a bad run of it, right, mate?" added Chuck, our fourth player, and one of my closest friends. "I'll say, a bad run in everything, including the ladies!" laughed Big Al. "That's what you need, Harry, a nice, warm pussy to take away all your stress!" "You could do with getting out, and finding someone," put in Chuck. "You might be a bit happier with a new lass, despite how much I hate agreeing with Al." "Not a new lass! Pussy! PUSSY! It will kill all of that stress, and you will find your life a happier, calmer place, and it will even chase off heart disease. Hell, that is why a guy my size still hasn't kicked the bucket!" We all laughed, until I caught sight of Madeline off to the side, still silent, with one of those thoughtful expressions on her face. "Cool it guys, don't forget we have an audience." "Oops, sorry Mads, forgot you were there. I guess you are the closest thing to a girl your dad's ever gonna get, huh?" +++++++++++++++++++++ Our lives continued, and Madeline continued to go her odd way. She started going to a local college, going for a degree in advanced science, but stayed living with me. Her eighteenth birthday came and we celebrated with a nice bottle of red wine, talking for aged. Afterwards I felt exhausted, so staggered back to bed and collapsed on to it, asleep before my head hit the pillow. When I woke, I saw Madeline standing next to my bed staring at me she was wearing her over-large white robe, but her hair was still dry in her ponytail, so she hadn't just gotten out of the shower. I struggled back to awakedness, suddenly struck by how pretty she had become. Her skin was flawless, her face finely shaped, and her eyes those amazing pools of green. With a start I saw she was wearing make-up, which I had never seen her bother with before. "Wha..." I began, as I tried to sit up, but found my arms had limited movement. Still a little groggy, I looked up to see that I had been handcuffed to the bed with a pair of fluffy handcuffs. I struggled a bit, and found that my ankles had been attached to the bedposts with a couple of my ties. I began to panic a little. "What's going on? Let me up right now!" "Shhh, daddy, I am here to help you," she replied, putting a finger to my lips (nail polish too!). "What do you mean? Let me up!" "I've been thinking, and Big Al was right. You really need to have some sexual stimulation. You haven't been out with a single woman since mom left! No wonder you have been so grumpy and stressed lately. But I know just the thing that will help you!" I suddenly had visions of her hiring a prostitute, or talking some girl into coming over and giving me a mercy fuck. What was she thinking? "Hon, I don't know what you have planned, but..." The words died in my throat as she calmly slipped the robe off her shoulders, staring me directly in the eyes the whole time. Underneath she was wearing some very nice lingerie, all pink satin trimmed with dark lace. Her bra cupped an amazing pair of breasts, lifting them into a great, deep cleavage I never knew was hidden under those baggy clothes. My eyes, acting on their own with no input for my brain, travelled down over her slender frame, which was beautifully toned. When she had been going out late in secret, I numbly thought, she must have been going to the gym. She was wearing a matching pair of pink and black panties, and dark pantyhose held up with lacy suspenders. "Madeline, what do you think you..." "I know you like it, daddy. I have been going through your porn folder, and I know what you like." She saw my shocked and rather panicky expression, so she stepped in and placed her hand on my cheek, looking me deep in the eyes. "Daddy, I know that you need a woman to fix those urges, so you can be happy. But all women come with some sort of attachment, so this is the best option. I love you daddy, and I think this is important for you, so just lie back and relax." This made some sense in her twisted logical way. Other women I would feel indebted to, if I were to sleep with them, but still, this is wrong. "Madeline, let me up. We can't do this. I am your father, and we can't do anything like... this. Please, honey." She responded by reaching out and pulling off the sheet covering me. At some stage during the night she had got me totally naked, and I was embarrassed to see I had a partial erection. For my daughter! "Please, no Madeline!" "You need this, daddy. I know you will eventually realise this." She reached out and took hold of my cock in her small hand. Her fingers felt cool and dry as she gently ran them up and down my length. Her fingers were far from expert, but still, I hadn't had anyone touch me there for a hell of a long time but me, and a traitorous part of my mind registered how wonderful it felt. "Does it feel nice, daddy? I have been preparing for ages for this. I have watched all the videos you have watched, so I can be the best I can for you." "Madeline, please, you can't do this, I don't..." And all my hopes that this may only be a quick hand-job died, when my sweet young girl leant down and licked the length of my cock, which reared up in response. I pressed my head back hard into the pillow and strained against my restraints, no longer able to think of something to say that could stop something so wrong, despite it feeling so wonderful at the same time. She kept working the shaft as she licked around the head. I looked down to see her tiny pink tongue darting out of her mouth over my sensitive skin as she had a look of concentration on her face. She then moved up slightly, and sucked the head of my cock over her tongue, and deep inside her inviting mouth. It felt as incredible as it did wrong. I had forgotten how much better this had felt than my own hand. "Oh, Christ," I exclaimed, as she began to bob her head up and down on my cock with much more enthusiasm than skill. I feel my heart pounding in my chest, hear the blood rushing through my ears, crying out as she plunged her mouth down suddenly, taking my entire length down her throat. I couldn't last very long, the feeling of her mouth plunging down over and over on my cock became too much, and I cried out, "Madeline, please, I am going to cum!" This was meant as a warning so I didn't cum into my daughter's mouth, but she just started speeding up, beginning to use her hand to pump it hard as she sucked it hard like a vacuum. The feeling felt like a freight train coming from a million miles away, and the orgasm felt like the train had hit me, it was so intense. I strained at my restraints, letting out a cry half of ecstasy, half of anguish, as I spurted wave after wave of cum down her throat. Madeline held her mouth clamped over my cock, pumping slowly with her hand, drinking in my cum, swallowing every drop. Finally I collapsed back onto the now sweaty sheets, and my daughter finally released me from her warm, wet mouth. She wiped her mouth with a handkerchief which she had thoughtfully kept handy, smearing her lipstick some more. She had a triumphant, pleased look on her face, any trace of conflicted guilt nowhere to be seen. "I have been practicing on some vegetables to get that deep. Although I did underestimate you size a little!" She suddenly moved in close, one hand on my chest, sitting on the side of her bed with an eager look on her face. "Did it work, daddy? Are you feeling any more calm or relaxed?" While my daughter had no guilt over what had just happened, I did not have that luxury. "No, honey, at the moment I feeling very stressed. What we did was so wrong..." "Oh," she said, standing up. "Well, I guess it's on to plan B then." With that she started sliding her underpants down her legs, only to have to undo her suspenders to get them off. While she was doing that, my panic started to rise again afresh. "Madeline! No! You... We... This is not right! Release me at once!" She leaned over and gave me a chaste peck on the cheek. "Don't worry, daddy. I have already broken my hymen with a dildo a couple of months back. And I have been on the pill for quite a while now. I told you, I have been planning this a while now." Madeline climbed onto the bed and straddled me. My limp cock twitched as her pussy came into contact with it. With a shock I saw that she had shaved herself bald, probably due to the influence of my porn. She began to work herself back and forth along my length, my cock sliding along her pussy lips. It felt amazing, and it wasn't long before I was rock hard again. Madeline suddenly frowned. "Nuts, I have forgotten the lube." She glanced towards the door, biting her hip, obviously debating as to whether or not to go get it, then looked back at me. "Ah well, I guess we will have to make do." With that she raised herself onto one knee, lifting my cock up and straight, pointing straight at her sex. I was able to let out a single, "No...," before she pressed the head of my cock between her pussy lips. She was a little moist, but not exceptionally wet, as she slowly worked her pussy lips back and forth over my cock, only letting the head in. This continued for a couple of minutes, and began to drive me crazy, it was making my cock head super-sensitive to be toyed with in this way. It was obviously having an effect on her, too. Her breathing became shallower, and small red spots appeared on her cheeks. Every now and then she let out a little. "Oh!" as the head tickled her clitoris. She put her other knee down and began to work my cock deeper and deeper, taking more of me in each time she thrust downwards. She let out little moans as she reached the bottom of her thrust, and her fingers curled on my hairy chest. Her pussy walls seemed to suck me in deeper, demanding me to try to thrust upwards as she came down. Suddenly she dropped, and my entire length was buried in her warm, inviting, forbidden pussy. It felt wonderful. It felt terrifying. She smiled at me, saying, "Wow, daddy, your cock is filling me up. It feels soooooo much smoother than my dildo!" I think I would have cum there and then, daughter or not, if it weren't for the fact I had cum so recently before. Without giving me time to reply she began to ride me. Our sexes made a squelching sound as she pumped her hips up and down over my cock, pulling almost all the way off of me, before dropping back down to engulf me once more. She rode me with enthusiasm, a look of extreme concentration on her face, also a look of sexual pleasure and hunger, looking so out of place on my daughter's face, with her usual ponytail and glasses, which she had not thought to take off. I didn't want to enjoy it, I really didn't. my brain kept warning me that this was my daughter whom I was fucking, but another part of my brain overwhelmed that thought with how amazing this felt after so much time. My eyes travelled along her body, appreciating its sexiness as I was unable to before. She still wore her bra, and I began to wish my hands were free so I could feel them against my palms. As if reading my thoughts, Madeline lifted one of her hands digging into my chest and started squeezing her left breast. We both groaned at that, and she began to grind herself harder on top of me. I lost myself to the feeling. I could not honestly say how long she and I continued thrusting against each other, on one hand it felt like forever, on the other only a couple of minutes. But no matter how long had passed, I could feel my second orgasm rising. I resisted it, unsure if I was doing so to try and avoid cumming in my daughter, or whether to prolong this glorious feeling. I managed to keep it back for some time, a minute or two, when suddenly Madeline's nail dug painfully into my chest, her other hand squeezing her breast as it popped from her bra, exposing her tiny nipple. Her back arched, and a little chocked squeal escaped her, and she had her first orgasm of her life. It must have been a good one, as he who body was rigid, and shook for what seemed like an age, her pussy squeezing my cock in the throes of her passion. I couldn't hold on through the feeling of this, and the sight of my daughter writhing in ecstasy on top of me, and I yelled a deep primal scream as I emptied a second massive load into my daughter for the day. I saw stars before my eyes, the orgasm was so intense. I took ages to breathe again, and Madeline collapsed onto my chest, mashing her breasts against me. She was obviously having the same issues, as her breaths came in short gasps, and her entire body was trembling. Eventually she lifted herself up, and looked me in the face, through the strands of hair that had escaped their bonds. A gentle expression of curiosity lit up her face. "I was meant to be making you feel good. That was very unexpected." I was a slab of meat below her, trying to sort out my thoughts. "Daddy, are you relaxed now? Are you happy?" Learning my lesson from last time (I was not sure if I wanted to know what 'Plan C' was), I said, "Yes, honey, I am very happy and relaxed, that felt great." I was surprised at how much conviction there was in my voice. I had actually meant it, I suddenly felt better than I had in years. She gave me another peck on the cheek, not as a lover, just as a daughter to her father, which felt surreal as I was still buried deep inside of her. We gasped as she lifted herself off of me, separating us with a wet sound. She busied herself cleaning us up with more handkerchiefs as I watched her, still locked to the bed. I looked admiringly over her body until she put her robe back on (was that disappointment I felt?) and began to work on my bonds, starting with my ankles. She covered me with a sheet, undid my cuffs and lay next to me, cuddling in as she used to. I rubbed my wrists, not knowing what to say. "You are a very naughty girl, Madeline." "I know, daddy, but I knew you would never let me do what was needed." She stood up, retrieved her discarded panties and went to walk out. She stopped at the door, looked back at me with a bright, strangely innocent smile. "Daddy, you really should get yourself a girlfriend, I can't do this too often, you know! But if you do feel stressed, don't hesitate to ask for some help, alright?" With that she bounced happily from the room, pleased at a job well done. Ask her for more of this? I couldn't do that, she is my daughter, this time was bad enough. Could I? She Always was an Unusual Girl Ch. 02 Thanks for all the comments from last chapter. This was only going to be a one-chapter story, but you convinced me to do a second! I think perhaps next story will be with new characters. Hope you enjoy! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I woke up slowly, blissfully content wallowing in the brain-fog caused by leftover sleep. I thought hazily to myself that I couldn't remember being this relaxed in a long time, haven't felt a sleep that relaxing or deep as the one I was lazily surfacing from. My mind wandered quite aimlessly, trying to put off coming to total wakefulness as long as possible. There was a dream, I think, the details dancing out of my reach. My daughter, my sweet little Madeline, was in in, making me happy... Suddenly I was awake, sitting bolt upright in bed. Madeline. She had come in last night, soon after I went to bed, chained me up and took advantage of me. Sort of. While I was quite unwilling (or as unwilling as a man can be with a girl bouncing up and down on his cock can be), she claimed that she did it all for my benefit, and I had no reason to disbelieve her. It was an odd thing to do, but she always was an unusual child. I groaned and swung my legs to the floor. I couldn't believe that I had just crashed to sleep like that. I should have been tossing and turning all night with the guilt of it all, but perhaps Madeline was right when she said that she could cure my stress. I put my head in my hands, and thought, no, I really can't put a positive spin on this. I had sex with my daughter last night, and despite how unwilling I was, I still came up into her, and it was wrong, it was immoral, it felt great... I cut off my thoughts and stormed into the on suite bathroom, and into the shower. I stood under the scalding hot water, trying to wash away what I had done last night. Gods, how could I face her today? What would I say? Should I yell at her? Kick her out? Lecture her? Briefly I had a vision of her sliding opening the door of the shower behind me, pressing her lean body against me, reaching around to grab me... I cut that thought off quickly, but it kept resurfacing. I angrily shut off the water and quickly and ineffectually towelled off. A little voice in the back of my head said, "Are you angry that you are having these thoughts, or upset she has not come in yet?" I stormed back into my room and got hastily dressed in some casual clothes. It was Saturday. At least I could have the weekend to get my life back to being normal. I reluctantly walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. I paused when I saw my daughter with her back to me. On their own accord, my eyes travelled up and down her body that I could see around the chair. Her body was fantastic -- I remember hearing something about her working out. Did she do that for me? She was wearing the same robe that I first saw her in last night and my rebellious brain defiantly wondered if she was still wearing that sexy lingerie below it. My confused thoughts were interrupted by Madeline turning to face me. Her hair was still in its ponytail, she still wore her glasses. I had never realised how pretty she was before all this happened, especially when her face lit up with a smile, as it did now. "Morning, daddy!" She still called me daddy, despite her having just turned 18. "Sit down, have some cereal. Are you up for doing the gardening today? We really have to tackle that lawn, and the roses certainly need pruning, and..." Madeline kept talking, happily chatting away as she did every morning. Was she not thinking of last night? Did it mean nothing to her? She seemed perfectly fine, except perhaps a little happier than normal. "Madeline..." I began, but was not sure where to begin. "Yes, daddy? "About last night... We... You... It..." I stumbled around, praying that some sentence would magically pour out of my mouth. "Oh, don't worry about that. That was merely me relieving your stress and giving your pent-up sexual needs a long-overdue release. We are still daddy and daughter, we don't need to change our relationship, just for that!" She beamed at me, and I stared at her. To her it seemed like she had helped me with the shopping, or cleaning the car. She read nothing into it at all. I sighed and made a decision. "Okay, but seriously? No more chaining me to the bed and forcing yourself on me, okay? We really shouldn't do that." "No probs, old man!" she said, still smiling. "This was a once-off stress killer, we are family, and we can't just do it for fun, no matter how fantastic it felt!" I hesitated at this. Time to move on. "Watch it with the old man cracks, okay?" and pretended to attempt to swat her, which she ducked away from, laughing. Life pretty much turned back to normal. I got on with my work, and Madeline continued with her college studies, studying advanced science. There was no more talk of that night, and everything was back to the way it was. Almost. I felt happier and more relaxed than I had for ages. I decided that I really should be looking for someone, a nice lady who I could get intimate with and who will make me feel this good regularly. Also, and a little less pleasingly, I kept catching myself checking my daughter out. For the first time I could see her wonderful figure disguised well by her baggy out-of-fashion clothes. I kept glancing up as she bent over the table in front of me to be met with a sight of her cleavage. Or walking in the room as she was bending over to pick something up, her perfect ass screaming to be held... But she was my daughter, and I was stronger than that. And then I noticed things going subtly wrong. Madeline kept shutting herself in her room for long periods of time with the door shut -- not something she usually did. I kept catching her with a frown on her face, as if she was considering a problem, her teeth biting her lip. She began to groom herself even less than usual, skipping more showers, leaving her hair tangled and unkempt. It was harder and harder to draw her into conversations. While this in itself was not too unusual if she was engrossed in a project, such as her taxidermy course (don't ask -- I said she was unusual), she seemed more tense and withdrawn than usual. Finally I could bear it no more. I sat her down at the kitchen table across from me, and started simple, preparing my big guns for later if I needed them. "Maddy," I only ever called her this when I was worried about her, "what's wrong?" Well, that was all it took. Suddenly my daughter was in my arms crying into my shoulder. I sat there in shock, just patting her shoulder. "Is this about that night where you..." "No, daddy, I told you, that was nothing," she managed to get out between sobs. She then continued her cry. I let her go through it, her tears and drool seeping through my shirt, and my ears stinging with empathetic tears of my own. Finally she settled enough to talk. "It's my course at college. It isn't going so well. My mice are not responding in the way I hoped they would to the trials. It looks as if I may need to scrap the lot and start again, I may have wasted most of a year!" Her look was of complete misery, and I saw her as my little girl, crying due to some tiny slight. I smiled and put my hand under her chin, my thumb stroking her cheek. "My princess. My little princess. You need to talk about these things. It is going to be okay, I am sure you can work something out with your supervisor!" She sighed. "No, she was the one who first suggested scrapping the experiment." "Oh," I said, weakly. I held her tight, rocking her slightly as if she was still a young girl. I felt her body warm against mine, but my fatherly instincts were too much to make the feeling sexual. "Well, you know I am here for you, don't you, princess? I will do anything for you that you need. Anything at all. You just have to ask." "Thank you daddy," she said, and without another word she stood up and walked from the room. I heard her blowing her nose in another part of the house and I let out a deep breath. Phew. I was worried it was drugs, or some boy, or some post-traumatic guilt... I suppose in part it could be that last one. But she brought that on herself, and at least now she can see the consequences of her actions, and maybe she won't do anything that... wrong again. She walked back into the room, her eyes still red and puffy from crying, but otherwise she seemed better, happier somehow. She must have gotten a big load off her chest, I thought. She held out her hands and dropped something into my hands. Or should I say two somethings. They were the handcuffs she used on me that night. I dropped them as if they were on fire and let out a shout. "What am I meant to do with these?!" Her face looked confused and upset. "But you said you would do ANYTHING for me!" "Not that! I'm not about to handcuff myself to the bed again!" She suddenly let out a laugh, and I relaxed slightly. Perhaps this was just a perverse joke at my expense. "Don't be silly, daddy!" she said. "I'm the one feeling stressed now! You need to handcuff ME to the bed!" My jaw dropped. I stared at her. My whole body went numb. I could hear my own blood pounding through my veins. "Hon, we said we couldn't do that again..." "No, I promised I wouldn't handcuff you to the bed without your permission. I NEED this. I have tried everything to relax. I have even resorted to a couple of adult toys, but nothing helps. I just know that I need to feel that release I felt last time, when I was on top of you. I never felt that good before." I was speechless. My own daughter was asking me to handcuff her to the bed and have sex with her? What had happened to the world I lived in? "I... I... I can't" "Please, daddy! I need this!" "No, Madeline, and that is final. No, no more conversation, this is over." She looked ready to shout at me, but instead just snatched up the cuffs and stormed from the room. I had never seem her this mad at me before. But she will get over it, I was sure of it. But she didn't. Not that day, and not the next. She got worse, I began to hear her crying at night in bed. It broke my heart, but surely I couldn't do what she asked of me. She began to withdraw from me, and I began to truly fear that I would lose her. But still I couldn't bring myself to do what she needed. I tried everything else, from talking to her to trying to get her to see a professional, but nothing worked. Then one day I heard her calling out for me from her room. I rushed in, to see a sight I had seen only once before. She was wearing the same set of matching pink panties and bra set, trimmed with black lace, complete with suspenders and stockings. She had also managed to cuff herself to her bed head, and was looking up at me with sad, desperate eyes, that were still moist from some recent tears. I felt my whole world was ripped apart. What was I to do? Sleep with my only daughter, or risk losing her forever? How did it come to this? I hesitated, indecision tearing through me like a chainsaw. He looked at me with her big green, wide eyes and whispered, "Please..." I made my decision. A quick glance around and I located the key to the handcuffs. I unlocked them one after the other. Madeline brought her hands to her face and let out a sob. I took her wrists and pulled them from her face, took her cheeks in my hands and gently placed a chaste kiss on her lips. I looked deep into her eyes, as her eyes as she looked with slight confusion into mine. I rolled to one side so I had one arm free, the other slipped under her head to cradle her head. My free arm slipped down her body, down her cheek, brushing against her throat. My fingertips danced over her collarbone, then trailed down over her breasts, at which she gasped, and closed her eyes tightly. I toyed with the idea of playing with her fairly large breasts (about a C cup, round and perky), but that felt wrong. This was about relieving stress, this wasn't about romance or joy (so I kept telling myself). My hand travelled lower, fingers tickling over her ribs, down her toned stomach (not as toned as before -- damn her depression keeping her from the gym) and against her abdomen. I slipped my fingers over her garter belt, before trailing along the black lace of her panties. This was it. This was the time I could walk away, try to think of some way of cheering her up that wasn't so taboo... My fingers lifted over the lace and settled on the silk, and Madeline let out a little involuntary, "Oh!" I began to trace her pussy along the pink silk. I could feel that she had shaved herself again. The silk felt hot and dry as I began to work little circles along the material. Madeline began to breathe a bit harder, her breath catching at irregular intervals as I tweaked sensitive spots. Her knees rose and her knees fell open to make more room for my exploring fingers, just teasing along, getting her ready for what came next. When I began to feel a small patch of moisture appear under her fingers, I stepped up the plan. I slipped my fingers under her waistband, and slid the panties just over her hips, which was as far as I could reach from my position. Madeline drew her legs up, pulled the panties up and off over her feet, and tossed them urgently to the floor (I noticed she had put her panties over her suspenders this time). Before I could move she had grabbed my hand and jammed it back over her pussy, breath short in anticipation of what was coming. I smiled, and looked down at her as her eyes flickered open and she half grinned at me, concentrating on my fingers. The smile dropped instantly when my finger gently parted her pussy lips and started sliding up and down her slit. Madeline let out a little whimper, and arched her back slightly. The look of concentration on her face was beautiful, and I resisted the urge to kiss her like a lover. This was about stress relief, I reminded myself. I worked my finger up and down in a slow, regular rhythm. Madeline had one hand over mine, the other locked with a handful of sheet over her head. I parted her lips further and slip a finger into her. She let out a deep groan and pressed her pussy into my hand. I slid in an out, soon sliding in a second finger, teasing her clit with my thumb. Her body began to rock in time with my hand, and I revelled in the control I had over her body. I couldn't resist looking at her silk and lace covered breasts producing a marvellous cleavage despite her being on her back, and watching them rise and fall with Madeline's short breaths. Madeline reached up and grabbed the sheet with both her hands, letting out little gasps and grunts, her face looking like it was in deep concentration, almost in pain. I began to work myself into her faster and faster, my fingers thrilling at her amazing tightness. Madeline stopped breathing. Her back slowly arched, her body became tense, her mouth opened to a wide 'O' shape. Everything paused, silent except for the moist sounds of my fingers working in and out, in and out... And then she came. Boy did she cum. Her body rocked back and forth, writhing in ecstasy, as she screamed, "YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS". I felt her pussy muscles twitching and my hand was flooded with her juices. I must admit, despite this just being just about relieving her stress, I had one of the most powerful erections I had ever sported as my daughter came on the bed next to me. Eventually she settled down, her breath just in gasps, her hands clutching mine tightly. I withdrew my fingers from her, causing her to shudder. "There you go, honey. You just relax here," I said, kissing her on the head. I turned to roll off the bed and she gripped my arm tightly. "No, wait," she gasped, still trying to get her thoughts in order. She looked up at me, and she had the most wicked look on her face, while somehow simultaneously looking remarkably innocent. "I am still a bit stressed. "You want me to do it again?" I asked, my fingers travelling along her belly. "No!" she cried, grabbing my hand before it reached its destination. "I need more." "More? Oh, you want me to lick you?" I could do that, I suppose. It wouldn't be that much worse than frigging my daughter to orgasm. "No. More. Like what we did before." Oh. My daughter was asking me for sex. Oh well, In for a penny, and all that. I rolled up and over her. I stood, took off my clothes and slid my legs between hers. She lifted her legs and placed her ankles on my hips. The last vestiges of my resistance spoke up as my cock brushed against her pussy lips. But she needed this, I needed my girl back. I didn't worry about subtlety, I slid my full length deep into her welcoming depths in one long, smooth stroke. She gasped, and her nails bit into my back, and she bit my shoulder painfully. I just rested in her, enjoying the squeeze as she got used to my cock inside of her again. When I felt her finally relaxing, I began to move back and forth, slowly at first, and she whispered, "Oh yes, daddy." I began to build to a nice rhythm, pumping my cock in and out of my sexy daughter squirming, whimpering and thrusting below me. She had no skill, as far as I know she had only fucked me and a toy before, but had more than enough enthusiasm to make up for it. Her first orgasm hit five minutes in, and I paused as she shuddered below me, her puss so tight around my cock I doubt I could have pulled out if I wanted too. I soon was back to pumping in and out of her, faster and faster, her face screwed up in such bliss that she looked like she was in agony. Her movements became so wild that I was unsure what were her regular movements, and what was her orgasms, and I had difficulty staying on her. I pressed her into the mattress and began to fuck her in earnest, slamming into her as hard and fast as I could. She was screaming, and I was groaning, and my orgasm was coming and... "Wait! Wait! Daddy! Pull out!" I stopped, confused, and allowed her to push me off of her. She scrambled over me, lust burning in her eyes, grabbed my dick and took me fully into her mouth. I groaned loudly as my cock entered heaven, her mouth slipping back and forth over her lips and tongue. I was close before, and I couldn't last, and it wasn't long before I was having my own shattering orgasm into her mouth. She swallowed every drop, milking me with her hand, until I was spent. She sat up and grinned at me. "Sorry about that, I just remembered I haven't been that good about taking my contraception recently. Didn't want an accident!" "Now you tell me!" She collapsed onto my chest, both of us exhausted, both of us panting heavily. Eventually we recovered enough for us to get some clothes on and stand. I thought it was now going to be awkward, but she just hugged me and grinned, suddenly back to her old self. "I can't tell you how much I needed that! I suddenly felt like a ton of bricks have been lifted off of me. I feel wonderful!" "I'm glad I could help, honey, but you know we can't do this often, don't you?" "Sorry, dad? I wasn't listening. Somewhere between the fifth and sixth orgasms I think I may have worked out what was going wrong with my experiment -- it may not all me lost!" "That's... great honey!" I said, smiling and shaking my head as she ran out the room, presumably to go to her college to fix her experiment. Thought of THAT during her orgasms? I have said it before and I will say it again. She always was an unusual girl. She Always was an Unusual Girl Ch. 03 This is the third, and possibly final chapter in this story. Again, I am powered by your comments, and they are what keep me writing. I hope you enjoy. ------------------------------------------------ Honestly, if someone had asked me a year ago if I thought a sex would be an appropriate way to deal with stress and depression, I would have looked at them as if they were nuts. But since then my daughter has pulled me out a many years' long funk that I didn't even know I was in, and later I somehow pulled her out of a spiralling bout of depression. Both of these were achieved using some rather forbidden means, namely some rather memorable sexual sessions. I thought that would make things awkward between us, but my daughter always was an unusual child, and she was able to completely put it behind her so effectively that I had no choice but to follow. And the truth is that there is no sexual tension between us, which seems hard to believe. We chalked those two sessions up to something that needed to be done in the name of mental health, and moved on. We were as close as ever, and loved each other entirely, but only as father and daughter. My work has been going fantastically, and I have found a new sense of creativity. I have even begun flirting with a couple of the ladies in my office, which pre-daughter sex I wouldn't have even considered. My daughter is going from strength to strength in her studies, after a slight hiccup now apparently completely rectified. Now she was talking about doing her doctorate in advanced science, which made me pretty damn happy. So you'd think there'd be nothing that could spoil this sunshine and light, wouldn't you? Madeline surprised me one day at dinner time, as we sat down to lasagne, one of my signature dishes. Madeline surprising me was not a unique situation, due to her unusual nature, but this one was a doozy. "Don't worry about me tomorrow for dinner, daddy," she said. She still called me daddy, despite the fact she was nearing her twentieth birthday. "I'm probably going to not come home until Saturday." Today was Thursday, so she was going to stay out until the day after tomorrow. "Oh, yes?" I said, raising an eyebrow. Madeline didn't have many friends, none of whom were particularly close. She tends to put them off a little with her odd behaviour, so her staying out all night was strange, but not unheard of. "You have some big plans?" "Yeah, I met a guy at college. An arts student I think," she grimaced a little at this, her brain more suited to the sciences. "We are going to meet up and have dinner and drinks. After that I plan to go back to his place for some sex." I choked on my last mouthful. She had provided a little too much information for me, much too suddenly. "What?! How long have you two been going out?" Madeline looked at me as if I had asked a nonsense question. "We haven't. This is our first time." "Don't you think you should... I don't know... wait until you get to know him better?" Madeline grinned at me, stood up, and kissed me on the forehead. She looked down at me, smiling. "Daddy, I know you're just trying to protect me, but you really don't have to! I am a big girl, and I can make decisions for myself now." She hugged me. "I don't really want a long-term relationship. I just don't understand how someone can want to be with one person day in, day out for months, or years, at a time. It just isn't the right time for that for me right now, I guess." "Then why..." "She raised one eyebrow, holding me at arms-length. She flicked a finger into my forehead. "For a smart guy, you are pretty dense sometimes. Ever since that first time we had sex I have really developed a taste for it. That second time only made things worse. I'm telling you, I have lost count as to how many batteries I have gone through for my buzzing friend! But it is still nothing like the real thing, so I plan to take this guy out, use him mercilessly, and then move on." "But... Shouldn't you... What if he..." I stuttered, completely thrown by this whole conversation. "Relax dad, I'll be kind to him, no handcuffs or anything. Besides, I couldn't have sex with you just because I was feeling horny. That would be wrong!" I must have looked like a right royal idiot, sitting there with my mouth open, but luckily I was saved by the phone ringing, forcefully snapping me out of my shock. I actually jumped when it rang, and fumbled the handset. "Hi... I mean 'Hello', John speaking." There was silence at the other end of the phone, and I had just began to think it was a prank call, when a female voice on the other end of the line said, "Hello, John." Okay, now I was completely thrown. I sat there, eyes bugging out, wondering what had happened to my normal, happy dinner with my daughter. "Anna?" Madeline spun around from where she had begun to tidy up the dishes, and mouthed, "Mom?" to me. I nodded slightly. "Yes, it's me," she replied. "How have you been?" "Good, good. Both Madeline and I have been doing pretty well lately." Anna was my ex-wife, and Madeline's mother. She left us when Madeline was very young to go live with some guy she met over the internet. She never really got on Madeline, having something against her unusual behaviour. "How is your job? Did you finally get that promotion you were always hunting for?" she asked. I felt a twinge of annoyance, she hadn't inquired after her daughter once! "No, I didn't. I kinda gave up on it for a long time, although I'm considering pushing for it again." "That's good." She paused, and I could think of nothing to fill in the gap with. Finally she said, "John, could we get together soon? Perhaps over coffee, or a meal? I have a few things I would love to catch up with you about, perhaps over dinner." "Dinner? I suppose I could do something like that..." Madeline started mouthing 'Tomorrow' at me, so I said without thinking, "How does tomorrow sound?" "Fantastic! I will meet you at the front of your house, say around 7pm? We should go to Georgio's! I haven't been there in ages! See you then!" and with that she had hung up the phone, without waiting for my goodbye. I looked at the receiver dumbly for a minute then carefully placed it on the cradle, not really trusting my hands at this time. "Well? What does she want?" demanded Madeline. "Just to talk. We are going out to Georgio's tomorrow evening, for dinner. I guess she just wants to catch up." "I doubt that," snorted Madeline. "Huh?" I grunted, having trouble following the plot of the drama that is my life. "Mom always had everything planned out. Like when she had that money squirrelled away just before she left. She does everything for a reason. Besides, I bet it was her choice to go to Georgio's, right? Wasn't that the romantic place you first went to with her on your first date? She is pushing for something, I bet." "Now, Madeline, your mother wasn't all bad. I did fall in love with her enough to marry her, right?" "Yep, and that's why, if the opportunity presents itself, you should definitely have sex with her." "What the hell happened to my nice normal life, with nice, normal conversations with my nice, normal daughter?" I bemoaned. "Hush, I was never normal, and you know it. I just want you to have some fun with someone you have feelings for. You need sex as much as I do, and you can't palm off the responsibilities forever, you know! At some stage you are going to need the real thing. I seem to remember mom was a bit of a looker, so this is probably your best opportunity to get some action. And who knows, maybe it will remind you why you fell in love with her in the first place!" "Are you sure, honey?" I asked. "I mean, you two never really got along..." "Meh, water under the bridge," she replied, play-punching me on the shoulder. "So, please take the opportunity for a little... 'coffee' at her place afterwards. Okay? OKAY?" She began to menace me, so I raise my hands in mock surrender and said, "Okay! Okay! But I still bet that she just wants to talk. You're making way too much out of this." "We'll see!" she grinned, and left. The next day, at work, I had trouble concentrating. I made a number of mistakes, causing my co-worker Helen to ask if I was okay. "I'm fine. I just have a lot on my mind, lately." "You want to talk about it? How about over drinks tonight?" Was she asking me out? At a time like this? Could nothing go right for me? "Thanks, I appreciate that, but I have something on tonight. Another time?" "Sure. Another time, then." Arg! I had been flirting with Helen, and the first time I see an opening and I was blocked by my ex-wife? I sighed. Tonight was going to be interesting. I toiled on through the day, managing to last until it was time to go. I left quickly, had a quick shower, and then spent too long deciding what to wear. I was, until recently, completely unconcerned about my appearance. But ever since Madeline had pulled me from my funk, I had begun to go to the gym, and bought some nice clothes. I eventually selected a nice shirt, slacks and jacket that I hoped suggested, "I am happy and successful, despite being dumped by you." Who knows if I managed to carry it off. I got to the restaurant a little late. I saw Anna was already there, seated side-on to me on a romantic-looking table set for two. I must admit, there were one or two differences about her that stood out like a sore thumb. I walked over, kissed her cheek and sat down across from her. She smiled warmly as I sat. Her eyes seem tired, a little more lined than I remembered. She seemed almost sad, although her smile seemed genuine enough. She was wearing more make-up than I had seen on her before. She didn't need it, for she always looked better without it. "You are wearing your hair long, now." I commented, thinking compliments were a good place to start. "Yes, Joey liked it long." "And your dress, it looks very nice on you." Actually the dress looked amazing. It clung to her body tightly, showing that she had lost a lot of weight since we broke up, perhaps even too much. There was one thing that was really different, though... "You mean it makes these look nice, don't you?" she replied teasingly, running her fingertips lightly over her breasts. The dress was cut low, exposing a very, very generous amount of cleavage. More cleavage than I had ever seen on her before, ever. More than I thought possible, even. "Well, I wasn't going to mention those," I sheepishly added. "Yeah well, Joey said he wanted me to get them, so he ended up buying them for my birthday one year." Was that a look of distaste that flickered across her features? "Please forgive me for asking, but is everything alright between you and Joey? I mean, you always talk about him in the past tense." "Joey... Joey left me for someone else," she said, with a slight catch in her voice. "Oh, I am so sorry," I said, wondering how I could be so sorry about my ex-wife's boyfriend cheating on her, the same one she cheated on me with, but for some reason I was. I guess I was over all the anger. "No, it's okay. It has been difficult between us for a while. He had become so demanding, and a little mean. He drank a lot, and didn't treat me well." "Did he..." In my mind I vowed not to slow down in my car if I ever saw him crossing the street. Anna took a deep, shuddering breath. Her eyes were shining, and I could tell that she was very close to tears. "Enough about that. How about you, you look fantastic. Have you been working out?" The conversation drifted off to inconsequential things. I had the salmon in a nice cream sauce, she had the steak Diane. We drank wine with the meal and soon I began to feel a little drunk. It was pleasant, like old times when we first started going out. She was a lot of fun then, and the good times glowed happily in my memories. We giggled like schoolchildren as we discussed old times, the funny stories we had collected from our years together. She even asked a few questions about Madeline, which made me happy. We stayed for dessert, and had more wines. Soon we were both very, happily drunk. I walked her out and we got into a taxi together. She held onto my arm, and we stayed close, still laughing. We dropped her off first, as her apartment was on the way to my house. She stepped out of the taxi, and then paused, as if a thought had suddenly come to her. She stepped back to the door and leaned forward to look me in the eye. It was all I could do to meet them, and not stare into the gorgeous expanse of cleavage this presented to me. "Would you like to come up for a while? You know, for some coffee?" I would have said no, I like to think. But a combination of the wine, the fun conversation, the cleavage and my promise to my daughter all combined to lever open my mouth and force me to say, "Sure, I'd love to." We went up to her apartment. It was quite large, and neat and well laid out. The furniture was tasteful and expensive, although a lot of it was a little threadbare. Anna had obviously fallen on some hard times, but was still trying to keep up appearances. She bustled into the kitchen and set about preparing two coffees, spouting pleasantries about the weather, almost as if she were nervous, like this was our first date. I just leaned on the door frame and looked in at her with a grin on my face. I pictured her in another kitchen, in another time, preparing coffee for another, younger me. There was so much promise for the future back then. She glanced up from her task and looked me in the eye. Her conversation paused and she looked coy, and again with that nervous anticipation. I looked back, still buzzing from the wine, admiring the woman she once was. She mistook what that meant, and stepped forwards, placed her hands on my chest and kissed be gently. My lips reacted on their own accord, and returned the kiss automatically. She moved back, lips just centimetres from mine, then pressed her whole body against me, slid her arms around my neck and kissed me hungrily. I think she still used the same brand of shampoo. I could smell that familiar, sweet scent wafting from her hair, and it brought back some strange feelings of nostalgia. Her lips were so familiar to me, the way they moved, the flicking of her tongue against mine, the little moans she let out, the way she bit gently at my lower lip. It was all too much for me, and I responded in kind, wrapping my arms around her and crushing her to my body. Her breasts felt weird, too large, and firm in odd ways against my chest. Through the wine I wondered how they felt in my hands and I watched myself robotically reach up and cup them, squeezing and rolling them in my hands. I pulled her dress top down below her breasts, she was not wearing a bra, seeing those familiar nipples on the overlarge mounds, and I just had to lean forward and take them one at a time between my teeth. She arched her back and moaned -- her nipples were always so sensitive (like her daughter's, my mind guiltily added). Her fingers ran through my hair as my mouth devoured her, my hands squeezing her ass over her silky dress. She suddenly shoved me back against the wall. There was no nervousness there any more, just a look of triumph, and of animal lust. She ripped my shirt open, and I saw the buttons fly. She raked her nails down my chest and I winced at the pain this caused, this aggressiveness was a new thing from her. She dropped down to her knees and all but tore open my belt and fly, pulling them to my knees, then without any warning she engulfed my entire cock down her throat. Now, years ago when sex was still happening between us Anna was always reluctant to suck my cock. Now suddenly she was like a mad woman, going crazy bobbing her head up and down over my length making slurping noises and moans of delight. I must admit, this was half a turn off, and half a turn on. While it felt pretty damn good, it broke the illusion of us reliving old times. This wasn't the woman I married, not like I remembered her. She suddenly stood up and pulled me to her. She kissed me once, wetly, then sat on the counter, leaning back, lifting her dress and tearing off her underwear. Her lipstick was smudged, and she had an odd look in her eye, but I had come too far to stop now. I stepped in and kissed her. She reached down and guided me inside of her. I had to take it slowly, because she was not particularly well lubricated yet. I slipped in and out slowly, just the head first, sliding a little further in each time, each thrust coming easier than the last. Finally I bottomed out inside of her. I began to slide back and forth, looking at her face. Her eyes were closed tightly in concentration, but for some reason I didn't see lust there. I don't know what it was, but not lust. "That's it, shove your big fat dick up inside my wet hairy pussy. Drill me hard, I am your little slut bitch, oh yeah, baby..." she suddenly began spouting in one long stream of expletives and sexual comments. She had never talked dirty to me before, and it suddenly became quite the turn-on, and I began to pound her hard. She met my thrusts, rocking her ass on the counter, until finally I exploded stream after stream of hot cum inside of her. She screamed and shook against me. I think she could have been cumming, but for some reason I suspect it may have been faked for my benefit. We clutched at each other, not moving apart, panting, playing spot the difference from when the last time something like this happened between us. She smiled at me, and held me tight, and said, "Now THAT is the big cock that I remembered." "Wow, I don't remember you being quite that dirty," I replied. She smiled in a kind-of seductive manner. "You haven't seen anything yet. Take me to bed and I'll show you how dirty I can be." And I did. And true to her word, she did show me dirty things, sucking, stroking, pulling, grinding -- she offered pretty much anything I wanted. I even turned down a few things -- they weren't my thing at all. Obviously this Joey character had had some effect on her, as she now almost seemed desperate to please, to be my sex toy. Eventually I pleaded exhaustion, and we fell asleep in the bed together, her arm draped possessively over me. In the morning I woke up first, feeling a little seedy, I must have neglected to drink enough water last night. I slipped out from under her arm, pulled on my pants and went to the kitchen to fix myself a cool glass of water. My feelings were mixed about what had happened the night before. While it had felt pretty damn good, I couldn't help wondering if sleeping with my ex-wife was a good idea. We did divorce for a reason. Anna broke into my musings by stepping into the kitchen. She looked tired, and her hair and make-up were a mess, but she looked pretty good just wearing my shirt from the night before, with the few remaining buttons barely containing her generous breasts. One nipple peeked hello from the insufficient covering. She smiled at me, showing genuine pleasure (but why do I still see that predatory gleam?) She kissed me gently, and then set about making some coffee for us both. At least this time she was more likely to get it finished. "Good morning, lover," she said, smiling over her shoulder. "'Morning," I replied. "Thanks for last night, that was fantastic." "I thought it was pretty good myself," she purred. She handed me the coffee and I drank it thankfully. My mind briefly wandered to Madeline's coffee that she made for me each morning using our machine -- this instant coffee was nothing in comparison. I briefly wondered if she had enjoyed her own night out. "So," she said over her coffee, "I am so glad we are seeing each other again. I've missed you." I squirmed a little uncomfortably. I mean, were we seeing each other again? This was one night, and it felt rude to say anything contradicting her statement, lest it make me look like I was using her for a quickie. Anna seemed to notice my hesitation in replying to her. She Always was an Unusual Girl Ch. 03 "I've been thinking," she said, stroking my chest hairs with her hands. There were a few long scratches there that she had left the night before when she became too rough. "Perhaps we broke up too hastily last time. After all, we were a pretty good match together. I know we both said and did some things that we now regret, but I think we can move past that now." Actually, I seemed to remember saying that I could forgive her, for Madeline's sake as long as she broke it off with Joey. Did I regret that? I just grunted noncommittally. "So I was thinking, perhaps I could move back in to our house. We could be together again! You can work your little job, and I will keep the house nice and clean..." She looked up at me, the smile fixed on her face, with a look of desperate hope. "We used to work so well together. We still could" "And what about Madeline? Where does she fit into all of this?" "Well, Madeline's an adult now. It's about time she moved out and found a boy to look after of her own. I mean, she can't stay at home for ever looking after you, can she? After all, that is my job." "I don't know. She..." "Look, I have an idea. The lease on this place runs out at the end of this week, why don't we move in again together at our place to see how it works? Madeline doesn't have to leave straight away; after all I'm not an ogre!" And with that last statement it all came rushing back. Anna was a master of emotional blackmail. She was adept at making you feel terrible about not doing what she wanted; making it seem like it was your entire fault when something went wrong. She had some nice features too, but she was so controlling that I always felt crushed beneath her foot. I remembered the meek soul that I was back then, never daring to say a word against her, and I thought of how much I had changed, how much I had improved. How much I didn't want to go back. "My house, you mean," I muttered, almost to myself. "Hmm? What was that, lover? "My house. I got the house in the divorce. To help me look after Madeline. It isn't OUR house any more, not since you left us." "That's just semantics! It will be our house again!" Her voice had become shrill, and a little desperate. "Look," I said, holding her at arms-length, looking her straight in the eyes to show I was serious. "I am willing to give us another go, I really am, but we need to take this slowly. I am not ready for us to move in together so fast, and I am certainly not prepared to kick Madeline out of her own home." "It's just..." "Please, let me say this," I interrupted. She looked shocked, I never used to dare to interrupt her. "If we started seeing each other again there need to be changes. We are different people now, and I need time to get my head around what is happening. Okay? I have to be my own person, making my own decisions, I can't be rushing into anything we may later regret." Her face was lowered and so she was not looking me in the eyes. When she finally looked up her eyes were glittering with tears threatening to fall. "Please, John, I need this, I need you. I... Joey didn't leave me with any money. He spent everything, and then kicked me to the curb. I can't afford this place any longer, and I need you to let me move back into our... your house. I can learn to get along with Maddy! I can change! We will be together again, like old times." Yes, I thought, you have already changed, but not for the good. I found I could read her like a book, and the tears were faked, squeezed out for my benefit. She was trying to manipulate me again, and I could feel my anger rise. I clamped down on it. "I'm sorry, I really am. I can help you out with a little cash if you want, until you get back on your feet, but I think you moving back into the house would be a bad idea right now." And like a switch had been flicked, she changed her attack on me one more time, this time using anger. She had never liked being thwarted. "I helped pay for that house! I helped make it what it is!" she all but spat at me. "And now you refuse to let me back in? You agree to meet me, fuck me all night, and then ignore even my most reasonable of requests? How can you be so fucking selfish, John? How can you live with yourself? What the fuck happened to you?" I felt like crap. I felt all the old feelings of guilt rise up again, this time boiling with resentment and anger. I was about to say something I regretted, so instead I said, "Goodbye, Anna." I had to get out of there, the walls were closing in on me and I was having trouble breathing. I picked up my shoes and jacket, Anna was still wearing my shirt and it was already pretty ruined. I started towards the door. Anna tried one last-ditch effort. "Please, John, don't go! We can work this out! Please! I'm sorry!" I turned and looked her in the eye. She was desperate to not be alone, I could see now. She didn't care with whom, I was just a convenient sucker, or so she thought. I couldn't resist from saying, "Yeah, that's pretty much what I said when you left, too." I shut the door firmly behind me and I could hear her muffled screams and expletives coming from inside the room, punctuated with a crash of something being tossed hard against the wall. I left, tears in my eyes, wondering how the hell it had come to this. Long repressed emotions came rushing back to me, and I was having trouble bottling them back down again. It took me a long time to hail a taxi, and by that time I had mostly got control of all my emotions, except for a dark gloom that was settling over me like an old friend. When I got home I was surprised to see Madeline sitting at the table in her pink fluffy robe. She had obviously just showered as her hair was still wet in its signature ponytail, and was seated eating cereal for breakfast. I had expected her to still be at that boy's place. She looked at me, with my shirtless chest with fingernail scratches still red upon my pale skin, my hair wild and my eyes a little red from the drinking the night before. "Well, at least one of us had a good time," she said, with a scowl. I sighed. I didn't need this. I felt like crap and was hoping for something a little happier to take my mind off last night. I sighed. But I was a father first and foremost, so I asked, "You want to talk about it?" "I had a pretty horrid time last night. And you know what? It is partially your fault." Well, it looks like I am today's punching bag. So be it. "And what have I done this time?" She looked at me, her scientist eyes narrowing as they examined me closely. Something in my voice must have revealed how I was feeling. "Are you okay, daddy?" I took a deep breath, shoving my problems behind me, at least temporarily. "I'm fine, I'm fine. Why was last night my fault?" She looked as if she didn't believe me, but decided to continue with her story. "Well, you remember me telling you that I was going out with Mark last night to have a sexual release?" "Yeah, how could I forget?" I winced. "Well, the sex was crap. I got no release, baby. In fact, after last night's performance, I may be even worse than before. I am certainly wearing out the motor of Purple Peter today. Purple Peter is my vibrator," she explained, with a rather unfortunate hand gesture. "Yeah, I kinda got that," I replied, trying to apply mental steel wool to my brain. "And this is all my fault how, exactly?" "For being so damned good in the sack! Did you know guys can ejaculate before they even penetrate the vaginal opening? I certainly didn't until last night. He came all over me before we did anything. Then, when trying to get things started again, he just does it again in my mouth with no warning! Just about chokes me by thrusting at the wrong time. When he finally gets inside me it was like he was having a fit, jerking all over the place, it was very unsexy, and over unbelievably quickly again. And he refused to perform cunnilingus on me, due to it being 'icky'. Yes, he actually said 'icky'. Now, if that was my entire sexual experience then I could accept it and move on, but I have been delivered multiple orgasms by a penis inside of me, a penis attached to YOU, and so I feel very, very unsatisfied. I went out expecting something more like what you had given me, and I got something that could never, ever come close to my lofty expectations. QED: it is your fault." I just sat there, mouth open as my daughter finished her little rant. At the end there was a moment of silence, as I stared at her, and she glared at me, and then we both burst out laughing. I gave her a big brief bear hug, and she leaned into me. "I'm sorry, I guess. Look, one day you'll find some guy who's a little more experienced who can satisfy you. Until then, I guess you can keep looking around trying to find him. I can't believe I just said that..." Madeline grinned at me. "Well, I hope so. Anyways, what about your date, did it actually go well or not?" And with that the gloom hit me one more time. My shoulders sagged and my head dropped. "Let's go with 'not'. I knew I shouldn't have taken your advice..." "You had some 'coffee' then? Go on. I told you way too much about my date, time to spill about yours." I sighed. "Well, at first it seemed like old times again. The good old times, I mean, not the bad old times. We got on well, talked, drank, and generally had fun. When she asked me up for coffee... well..." "You took my advice." At least Madeline looked a little sheepish. "Yeah, QED: your fault. She was... very aggressive. Whatever that Joey guy did to her, I don't like it. She was almost trying to debase herself me, as if she were... well, like a Purple Peter. She seemed so desperate to please. And then this morning..." I put my face in my hands. I finally broke and let out a little sob. Madeline quickly slipped around the table and held me in her arms. I felt her breasts press into my arm. "It's okay, daddy." A tear rolled down my cheek. "No, it's not. She was just like before, controlling, manipulative. She wanted to move in here and kick you out. You got pretty vocal, and mean. It brought back a lot of memories I thought I had left behind." "Yeah, I thought it would. That's why I told you to have sex with her. You really needed to get over her, to let her go. It was holding you back." I am embarrassed to say I bawled like a baby and my daughter held me, rocking me back and forth. All the years of resentment, guilt and anger had finally burst. It may feel good later, but for now I felt like utter shit. I felt her hand move over my back, and my head rested on her soft breasts. I breathed in her scent -- she smelled of soap and cinnamon, for some reason. "Madeline?" "Yes, daddy?" "Could we..." "Yes, daddy. But first you need to shower. I smell her on you, and I don't like it." She led me to the bathroom, and turned on the taps to the shower. While she adjusted the temperature I stripped off, letting my clothes just drop to the floor in a pile. Soon I was naked, and she turned around, looked me over, and then gestured me into the shower. I stepped under the spray and just stood there for a time, letting the hard, hot needles of water wash away some of my tension. I couldn't believe I had just asked my daughter for sex. Both other times I was pressured into it, the first I had no choice at all. But honestly, at this time, I couldn't have cared less. Long, soft arms curled around me, running over my chest and abdomen, feeling cool compared to the hot water. I felt Madeline's bare breasts pressing into my back, the soft feel of natural C-cups, rather than Anna's false, unpleasant DD's or greater. One of her hands picked up the soap and began to run it all over my body in slow, sensual circles. I braced myself against the wall as it travelled over every inch of my body, cleaning away all traces of my ex-wife from my skin. It finally found my cock, already semi-erect, and I let out a soft moan as it soaped up and down its length, the hands moving smoothly thanks to the slippery soap. My cock grew in her hands until it was stiffly pointing upwards. I turned around until we were face-to-face, our hands resting lightly on each other's hips. Our eyes studied each other's faces taking in the details. I loved this girl with all my heart. While my love was as a father to a daughter, and not a sexual love, I felt the need to hold her and to be inside her right now, as a cathartic experience, chasing my horrors away. I had no idea how these two conflicting thoughts could live side-by-side inside my head, but they did, and frankly I didn't care. It was time to stop thinking for a while. I reached out and cupped her nice, natural breasts, squeezing them slightly, feeling their soft, warm weight against my palms. My fingers and thumb gently played with her nipples, rubbing them slightly. Her nipples were sensitive, I knew from prior experience, and it caused her to arch her back slightly and breathe a little deeper. I leaned forward, taking a nipple into my mouth, my tongue rolling over it as it became hard and jutting between my lips. Madeline's fingers trailed through my wet hair as I nipped playfully at her flesh, and began kissing down her body. My hands roamed over her hips and thighs, as my gentle kisses moved over her stomach and abdomen. Her pubic hair was neatly trimmed short, and I spent a short time looking at it as I gently stroked her thighs and her ass. Finally I leant in and kissed her warm mound, causing her to gasp. She reached up and held the top of the shower cubicle with one hand, the other still on the back of my head, fingers entwined in my hair. One of her legs lifted and draped over my shoulder, opening herself to me. I leaned in and laid little kisses about her sex, before planting a deep kiss directly onto her pussy, slipping my tongue into her as warm water cascaded down her body and off my head from the shower. Her one remaining planted leg almost buckled, and I helped to hold her up by placing my hands under her ass, which also allowed me to pull her harder onto my tongue. I worked my mouth over her, delving between her lips, tasting her now familiar taste, smelling her familiar smell, diluted by the shower we were under. I had to stop to grab my breath before I drowned. An awful lot of water passed between her legs on the way down her sexy body. I leaned in again and found her clit, already hard and sensitive, Madeline let out a little squeal as I swirled my tongue around it. We worked this way for a time, until finally Madeline's hand on the back of my head started stroking my hair quickly, her body began to tense and she pressed her pussy hard onto my face. I had to breathe, but pushed on, working her clit as she screamed out a powerful orgasm, her loud yell echoing throughout the tiled bathroom. Her body shook, and her hand crushed me to her, until finally her legs failed her and she slid down the slick shower wall, braced as much as I could by me, until her ass plopped onto the tiled floor. I took a deep gulping breath, and almost choked on the water still running down my face. We sat there for a time, the water cascading off of us, both gasping for air, our legs entwined in the enclosed space. Finally she stood up, and helped me to haul myself upright. She stepped out of the shower, and, flicking a grin towards me, she began to towel herself off. I turned off the taps and slowly joined her, as if in a warm, happy dream, grabbing my own towel and drying myself, unable to look away from her sexy body peeking in and out from the towel as it moved over her body. She shot my one last cheeky grin over her shoulder as she walked from the room. I followed the sway of her hips and perfect ass as she led me to her room. She suddenly turned, grabbed my shoulders and flung me onto the bed. I landed on the soft quilts, and hardly had time to rest before he was pressing her body against mine, her hand stroking near my still-hard cock and her mouth biting lightly at my nipples playfully. She ran her fingers down the scratches on my chest with a look of sympathy, and leaned in, kissing them lightly before moving down my body to start licking up and down the length of my cock. I groaned in approval as she ran her tongue over me, flicking at the head whenever she reached it. Finally she moved up and took it slowly and lightly into her mouth, her hand moving up and down on the shaft as she sucked in the top half. It felt unusual, as I had fallen with my lower legs over the edge of the bed, and she was sucking me off while lying 90 degrees to my body. I don't think I had ever done it like this before. I reached out and began stroking her pussy, in convenient reach, and she groaned around my cock. She lifted her leg and I shifted until I could start licking her again, and I began to 69 my daughter. I had trouble concentrating on what I was doing, as I kept losing myself to the sensations caused by her mouth. She was having difficulties too, pausing her movements every time I hit a good spot with my tongue. We worked like this for some time, getting each other worked up and panting for more. She pulled her mouth off of me with a sucking sound, and rolled away from me. I looked at her, feeling disappointed that I lost those wonderful sensations. But then I met the wonderful sight of her kneeling on the bed, holding the bed-head. "C'mon, daddy," she panted, "I wanna try it this way." The sight of her smooth, flawless, perfect ass pointed toward me swaying invitingly, her looking lustfully back over her shoulder, with her breasts swinging free blow her was too much to bear. I scrambled up behind her on my knees, positioned myself carefully, and, as slowly as I could, I pushed myself deeply inside of her wet, welcoming core. "Oh, god," she gasped. "This position makes you hit the spot perfectly." I had to agree with her there. Her pussy felt tighter and hotter around me than her mother's, her ass felt soft yet firm against my abdomen, her back so smooth before me. I slowly began to rock my hips back and forth, getting a gentle rhythm going. Madeline was silent except for her little gasps and moans, pushing back onto me with each thrust I delivered to her. The air stank of sex and arousal as I began to thrust a little harder into her. I leaned forward, kissing her shoulder and reaching below her to feel the soft, heavy, natural weights of her breasts in my hands. Madeline gasped in pleasure, and came suddenly and unexpectedly, her pussy squeezing my cock rhythmically as the spasms washed over her body. Her arms collapsed and her face pressed into the pillows beneath her. I paused deep inside of her to let her recover. She said something I couldn't hear due to her face being still buried in the pillows. "What was that, baby?" I asked, stroking her back. "For fuck's sake, keep going!" she repeated, turning her face so it wasn't so muffled. I took her advice in spades, and began to thrust into her harder. She let out little moans and groans as I hit the right spots, my hands on her hips to pull her harder onto me. Our bodies slapped together over and over, our sweat mingling. I felt her fingers brush my cock as she worked her clit as I kept thrusting. We kept it up for a long time, until she finally pulled off me mid-thrust, and rolled off the bed. "Lie down," she slurred, drunk with lust. Who was I to argue? I lay down as she reached into a draw and pulled out two pairs of fluffy handcuffs -- the pairs she had used on me long ago. She grabbed one of my wrists and I allowed her to lock me to the bed, then repeated her action with my right wrist. I was at her mercy again, and she climbed hastily on top of me, actually shaking with her need to feel me inside of her again. She positioned herself carefully, then dropped down, her eyes bulging and a scream escaping her lips. She bounced twice more and then orgasmed again. Her back arching, her nipples pointing from her body, her fingers gripped my arms to prevent her from falling off of me. This one did not last as long as the others and soon she was riding me again, her wet ponytail flying as she moved herself furiously. I kept trying to reach out and hold her, to caress her, but kept getting brought short by the chains on the cuffs. It was ecstasy, and it wasn't long before I felt my orgasm building from a million miles away and then slam into me like a cement truck. My body arched as I thrust up as hard as I could inside of my daughter, trying to get as deep as I could as I released wave after wave of cum deep inside of her. She sat upright on me, hands on my chest, eyes half closed as she felt my seed being released inside of her. Eventually, after what felt like a million years, my orgasm subsided, and I could breathe once more. I gasped as Madeline pulled herself off of my sensitive cock and flopped bonelessly onto the bed beside me. We lay in silence for a while, sweat cooling on our naked bodies, our breaths and heartbeats slowly returning to normal. She Always was an Unusual Girl Ch. 03 "Can you release me now, please?" I asked, rattling the cuffs. She lazily traced circles over my chest. "They aren't real handcuffs. There's a little catch you can reach that will open them for you." "So I could have done that at any time, when you first did this to me?" I asked incredulously, quickly finding the catches and rubbing my wrists "Yep," she replied, smiling, still lost in the afterglow of sex. "So I guess poor Purple Peter is going to be having a lonely time today, after all." She giggled and hugged me, pressing her naked breasts into my chest. "I guess so. How about you, still depressed?" "Nope. It appears that you have cured me once again, doctor." I replied, kissing her head. "Pity," she sighed, sitting up and swinging her legs off the bed. "Pity? What, you don't want me to be happy?" She shook her head, biting her lip. "No, it's not that, it's just... Well, I could have gone for one more round of cheering you up," she grinned at me mischievously. I frowned. "We really can't do this just because we're horny. We can never really be lovers -- we are father and daughter after all. That would be wrong." "I know, but..." she bit her lip in thought. "Look, I don't see you as a boyfriend, or as a sexual being, or anything like that, but if we are really feeling horny, I mean REALLY horny, wouldn't it be healthy to relieve that? Won't THAT make us happier? And we may prevent stress and depression from coming on in the first place, which would be better than just treating the symptoms." "I suppose you're right, but that still seems pretty wrong." She leant forward and kissed my cheek. "I'll take that as a yes!" With that she bounced out of the room, an interesting effect on a 19 year old well-built girl. I settled back on my daughter's bed, with our combined juices drying on and around me, and sighed. It seems that I was still being manipulated by a member of the opposite sex. Well, at least this time it was my daughter, who seemed to be at least partly doing this for my benefit. And for some reason she could make me feel so happy about being manipulated. I have never understood how that brain of hers works. After all, she always was an unusual girl.