0 comments/ 98552 views/ 17 favorites Temptation's Contrition By: a_bent_ampersand Author's Note: This is the fourth part of a longer story. I've done my best to make this and each of its sister stories stand alone. They were written in this order: Conquest, Contempt, Constant, and now Contrition. Anne Marie was the receptionist at my work. She had long, dark hair that bounced against the small of her back when she walked. Sometimes she wore glasses over her eyes --maybe to disguise the fact that one was blue and the other was green. She dressed smartly and was known to all as the office slut. She'd had everyone in the office. Me included. I had been a faithful husband until that afternoon in the motel room. I don't know if she'd threatened to blackmail everyone with pictorial evidence. I didn't even know there were pictures until my daughter mentioned them. The night my daughter told me about the pictures, we'd fucked. I'd played right into her hands and she'd given me the greatest, most mind blowing sex of my life. She'd also explained to me that I could go on fucking her --so long as I obeyed her rules. I was to always respect her, always defend her, and never deny her. With her three rules intact, she imposed her first order: I was to not have sex with anybody but her --not even my wife, her mother. I had kept up my end of the arrangement. And she had kept up hers. I was never in a position to tell Yvette not to have sex with other people. I'd watched her on a handful of occasions. I saw her fuck a guy with a bigger cock than mine, though my own dick is considered much bigger than average. I'd watched her break a preacher --the guy had denounced his own religion in favor of hers. Her religion was pretty simple: worship Yvette and be rewarded. And I was her high priest, so to speak. Which is why, I guess, Anne Marie was standing on my doorstep with all of my incriminating photos. She pulled them out for me to see. There, printed on the page, I saw her skinny ass. Her little boy-tits had pointed at the ceiling. My teeth clenched as my knob touched to her asshole. The shots were distant --maybe through the window. She dropped them all into a yellow envelope with a disk. "Why are you giving me this?" "You know why." Anne Marie pursed her lips. It was because Yvette had ordered her to. "Is this all of them? No copies? No backups?" I asked and took them from her. "Everything. Like I was told to." "What were you going to do with this?" I raised my chin. "I dunno. Money. Laughs." "Thanks." I said and closed the door. Anne Marie stuck her hand into the doorjamb to stop the door. "Wait." "You want to see Yvette?" "Yeah." "She didn't say you could." I said and closed the door. She protested, but the sound of the door lock was louder. "Who was that?" A voice came from the couch. I turned toward my wife. Angela was curled up on the couch, her eyes closed. "Girl from work. Dropping something off." I walked toward the stairs. Lately, Angela had been getting very depressed. Her attempts to discipline Yvette had stopped. She knew I would always defend the girl --though she didn't know why. I hadn't stuck an erection in her for days, maybe a week. She had taken to using muscle relaxers with vodka to cope. "Stay with me?" She asked with her eyes closed. Part of me felt like I was married and that I should help her. But the dominant side could only serve one woman. "Go back to sleep," I grumbled. I went up the stairs with the pictures under my arm. Yvette was in her room. She had left her door wide open. On my approach, I glimpsed her naked ass and the tattoo above it. I gazed up at her beautiful blond hair. She was shimmying into a tight white dress. I put my hand on the fabric and pulled it down to help. I felt the material glide between my fingers and her skin. The skirt was short. I lifted my fingers touch the spot between her asshole and her pussy. She took a step away. Her attention was on the mirror. She was putting her lipstick on --copiously. "You're looking very dressed up," I offered. I knew that if she was going out to meet a guy, or two guys, or on her way to an orgy --I couldn't say anything about it. She was the only one allowed to be jealous. And that's why my cock was actually her cock. The white dress clung to every curve and fold of her body. Her bountiful, D-cup breasts were barely covered by its intensely low scoop. I could make out the shape of each piercing, just below her flat nipples. Thin golden rings pinned down by satin. "Gotta go to church tonight," she said flatly. I set the pictures down on her vanity. My hands went right to her hips. "Not Carl?" I mocked, putting my chin near her neck. Carl was the preacher man who wanted to fuck Yvette. My daughter had refused him. He had to prove himself worthy. He had to have sex with a married woman in his Church --then he could have her. That was Yvette's condition. The woman was a Russian named Nadia. Carl wanted Yvette, but I didn't think he had the balls to actually rape a woman. Yvette obviously thought differently, because she only lit a cigarette to respond to my question. "Do you like the pictures?" Yvette blew smoke, her voice was a smolder. "Yeah. Thank you." "Burn them." "I will." "Don't save them to jack off to." I smirked at her. She seemed pissed for some reason. "I can't believe you did her, Kyle." "You did her too," I shrugged. She slapped me across the face. "You fucking asshole!" Her blue eyes swelled and she pointed to the floor. I knelt before her. "Do you regret what you just said to me?" Yvette breathed, gazing down at me. Her golden bangs were teased to perfection. "I do." "Then say it to me..." She said, putting the cigarette to her full lips. "I regret what I said." "Now..." Yvette turned and lifted her skirt. The amazing shape of her backside was presented to me. She had no panties. I was treated to a view of perfectly ripe ass cheeks. "...give me a rimjob, you little bitch!" I stood up and turned for the door. "Are you denying me?" Yvette asked coldly. "No," I said as I reached for the door. "Angela might see." "Leave it open." I stood between my daughter's rock hard body and the threshold to her room. From this position, I could plainly see the stares --but over my shoulder I could see Yvette's tanned, solid ass. She clenched the cigarette between her teeth and snapped her fingers at me like a dog. She then pointed at the space right behind her ass. "Lick my shitter right now." I went down on my knees behind her. She urged me with her words, "that's it Kyle... brown nose me..." I stared up at her twin cheeks and pulled them open to reveal her dark sphincter. "If you talk shit, you eat shit. I hope you understand me." She parted her legs a little and took up her mascara. My tongue reached out and touched to the outside of her asshole. I felt it pulse against the tip. My nose inhaled her pungent and most defiling odor. She was applying mascara. "You don't talk about who I fuck. Put your tongue in me if you understand." I pushed my tongue into her asshole and felt it flinch open just a little. I then flattened my tongue around the inside of it. I tasted her sticky tang. I shoved around the texture there. She responded by pushing her ass into my face. "I am so tempted to put a bit of chocolate in your mouth, daddy..." She hissed the word 'daddy'. "...that is the dumbest thing you have ever --ever fucking said to me." I was silent. I only nudged my tongue in deeper. I filled her brown eye. If this pleased her, she made no action and she made no noise. There was no act of encouragement as she selfishly punished me --a cigarette burned in one of her hands and mascara was perfectly applied with the other. "I hope mom fucking walks by..." Yvette continued in her evil tone. "...bet you've never eaten her ass." My daughter was right. As agreeable as sex with Angela was... the two of us had never engaged in sex quite like Yvette and I. This revelation reminded me of my rightful place --obeying and serving my daughter. Her observation warmed me and I wanted to consume everything about her. I wanted her sweat and her cum. If she would only fart in my face I would breathe her private stench and call myself lucky. She lifted herself away from me, now finished with her make-up. "Brush your teeth," she spoke hastily. "I'm late for church." Yvette opened a bottle of whiskey on her vanity and I was briefly reminded that she wasn't yet old enough to drink. She shot straight from the bottle and capped it again. Her eyes watched me through the mirror as I left. Her eyes were bright as ice, but framed in shadow, and her lipstick was thick as every fat-fucks favorite stripper. Her dress was still up around her ass as she blew smoke toward my reflection. I washed my mouth out and I bathed my nose in Angela's designer soap. When I emerged from the bathroom, Yvette was standing at the banister near the stairs. I eyeballed her perfect form from behind and joined her. "Look," Yvette whispered as she pointed down to the living room. Angela lay asleep. Her soft snore filled the air. "Daddy..." she snorted softly, "...you gotta do me here... right above her." "What about church?" I asked. "Let me worry about church." Yvette's hand went to pants and she gripped my dick. My daughter had power over my mind, spirit, and body. Now it was my body's turn to jump to attention. And jump it did. My meat, thick and proud grew to her palm. Satisfied, her fingers turned their attention to undoing my pants. I placed my fingers between her thighs and found her pussy. The flood I found there was like hot water poured over fresh clay and three fingers slipped into her easily. I heard a little growl from her mouth. The acrid scent of my daughter's sweet creamer filled the space there above the stairs as her quim melted against my knuckles. It was the smell of only the most rabid sex. My fuck stick, vibrant with veins was now between her fingers and thumb. It slipped from her and bounced heavily toward my shirt. "Oh daddy..." Yvette breathed. "...looks like you want this as bad as I do..." She then whipped her styled, blond hair over her shoulder to look back at me. In that moment her cool eyes widened to punctuate our forbidden jest. "...maybe more..." She made her lipstick into a perfect circle and guided my knob to her prick pleaser. I watched her eyelids blink themselves into half-open slits as my pipe parted her sloppy opening. Her teeth showed as a familiar gasp pleased my ears. "Don't get cum on my dress..." she moaned above a whisper as I filled her completely. Her hands went right to the banister to help her press against me. My right hand glided upward, from her flat belly to her flat breast and I felt her golden nipple ring smear between her satin and the skin of my hand. I felt her hard, covered nipple tickle the base of my fingers. Her hand went over mine and squeezed it even harder. Her grasp made my fingers white and then whiter as she corrected and re-corrected her grasp. And then, seemingly frustrated with the satin fabric that separated my hand from her full melon, she forced my hand into the scoop of the dress. She slammed her naked fat titty into my sweaty open fist. I felt the thick nub above the ring --hard as a broken jelly bean drag passionately against my palm. She kept her eyes locked with mine --her face lit with an I-told-you-so expression. I drew my semen shooter backward and slammed forward. She rushed to meet me with diabolical timing. Both of us fucked without moans or groans. There was only the sound of me churning her willing and wet cum catcher. I pulled her tit toward me and she raised her chin in response. Her smile widened to absolute evil and she breathed, "...look...down at her..." She rolled her eyes sideways and her head swiveled to follow. I leaned over her shoulder and looked down to my sleeping wife. My phallus didn't falter. In fact it felt heavier with my sauce --more powerful. As my blond wife snored below, my cock became a heavier hollow stick that was devoid of sensitivity. I could fuck Yvette for hours like this, gazing at the woman whose only saving grace was giving me my daughter --the single greatest truth in my life. I think Yvette wanted me to get caught. I didn't know what she had against me and Angela that would make the destruction of our marriage such an object of amusement. Angela would understandably be furious to catch us fucking like dogs. Yvette would probably order me to keep fucking while Angela screamed at me. And I would keep fucking --even with my wife clawing my back. That was Yvette's true meaning for me. She was my goddess. And as if she were reading my thoughts, she decided to prove it. "Get your limp dick out of me," She teased. My very full joy branch slipped from her easily and it bounced freely. Yvette gazed down at it with appreciation as she turned to face me. Her perfect hair was getting matted with sweat and her eyes --drunk on whiskey and my fruit-giver— hooked mine hypnotically. One perfect tit was revealed through the scoop of her dress. She popped its twin out for me. Both perfect, pierced with golden rings, and supported only by her satin white dress. They were triumphant in size and I knew they had broken many men. She hiked her skirt above her shaven pussy with a lazy smile. "Tell me you're ready, daddy..." "I'm ready." She hopped up on the banister and gripped either side with her hands. It was then that she parted her legs before me and revealed her perfectly pink pudgy pleasure. Her pink peach was wide open for cock --slick with sweat and the primal function sex. She probably held a gallon of my pre-cum. "Oh, daddy... you make a little girl wanna skip church..." She leaned toward my face. I could smell the whiskey and the ashtray. "Put it in me again... daddy... have your little girl again..." I reached between us and I raised my long post. Yvette rocked her hips urgently, seeking a refill. I pointed it again to her trembling, open folds. I slammed it into her in one hot stroke. I felt her hands go to my neck but it was her gaze that held me. Sultry. A little bit mocking. She knew all the make-out spots and she'd fucked in them all. I lurched forward in her arms --my hips commanded me. "Don't cum... daddy..." she gasped. "...there's one more thing we have to do..." Sweat beaded my forehead as I slipped my prick back. I left only the head in my daughter. I hoped her pussy lips might pinch off my impending spill. "Shhhh...." She whispered, her hands traveled down my arms. "...put it all in me and wait..." I had no idea what she was getting at... I only obeyed. "Wait." She repeated. Now, with both of us in position, her hands slipped into mine and she leaned back. She leaned all the way backward and her legs went around the small of my back. I felt my cock get pulled upward as her pussy arrived to a new position. This shock gave me a renewed sense of constitution. "It takes a big dick to do this..." she murmured. "...little dicks would just slip out. Believe me. I know." Her blonde hair now cascaded downward --only feet above poor, sleeping Angela. I gave it to her slowly. My huge and slippery shooter pushed in and out of her in this bizarre angle. I imagined it treated her clit over and over as it filled her gaping gash with a handicapped rhythm. I continued to plow her... over and over as her hands gripped mine with total purpose. "Oh... you have to be strong... daddy...." She cooed softly. And then she giggled softly, "...the worst is yet to come..." With that, Yvette moved her hips as much as she could. She matched my clumsy beat with very little effort. She fucked as the perfect slut I'd always wanted her to be. Her participation in this position increased our pace almost by instinct. This new, urgent speed caused me to groan. It felt like the loudest groan in the world. "Shhh...." Yvette hissed. She writhed against me and her words were broken by her own ecstasy. "...you'll wake...the neighbors...can't...you...handle...just a little pussy?" I bit down on my lips and rammed into her to shut her up. It worked. But with this new effort, I felt my seed boil up in me. It had been held back already and now I knew I wouldn't be as lucky as before. With a panic, I pulled Yvette upward and threw her arms around my neck. Her awe-inspired tits slapped into my face. My lips slobbered over her dense nipples with the accuracy of a blind rifleman. My sweaty chin tainted her golden rings with an unreserved fever. "Gonna cum now?" She half-laughed in my ear. I only nodded. Yvette slipped my cock out of her pussy and hopped on the floor next to me. She put one hand on my prick and squeezed it like a vice. Her other went between her legs. I felt the geyser of semen pumping through my swelling rod, but she wouldn't let it out. I glanced at her other hand and I could see that she was whipping her clit into frenzy. "Watch... Kyle..." she huffed. "...watch... this!" I saw the orgasm flush her neck and cheeks as her body shook with the results of her own hand. She had fingered herself to a seemingly amazing climax and in that moment... she released my cock. I realized her plan as a rope of semen shot out of my rocket launcher. That cum, followed by another burst, hurled through the railing of the banister and downward. I held back my moans of satisfaction, but felt supreme joy and relief as more strands of my baby sap flew through the air down to my sleeping wife. Yvette was pulling on my tool now, her own hand got slick with my white goodness. I looked at her. Her lips were flat with that most sinister smile she gave when she had what truly got her off... moments like these. My cock dropped in her hand. The erection had served its purpose and so she let it go. I shoved it back into my pants as Yvette hid her tits again with the white satin dress. I noticed she did it all with the hand that wasn't splattered with my cum. "Now I'm late for church, daddy," she smiled at me. "Are you gonna drive me?" I nodded. Admittedly, I was in a bit of a shock as to shooting fuck snot all over my sleeping wife. But I was also not excited to be meeting up with Carl again. I knew that if he had fucked Nadia he would then fuck Yvette. And my daughter would probably make me watch. Just to crack her self up. But I could never refuse her. It was a rule. She adjusted her hair with her semen-free hand and looked at me. I offered to get her a rag for her hand, but she refused it. When we were ready to leave, I found out what she had planned. "Bye, mommy..." Yvette said to Angela while she slept. The hand that was still wet with my butter was the very same hand she used to stroke her mother's cheek. She made sure to leave every drop before she turned to exit the house. Rain pounded the mini-van as we headed down the street to Carl's church. As the rain pattered outside, I could hear the muffled rap music that blasted in Yvette's ears. She was wearing her ipod --her intention was that we wouldn't talk. I was only the driver now. I was expected to pay witness to her ultimate sexual turn --the breaking of the preacher man. She cracked the window and lit a cigarette. My thoughts drifted back to the house and to Angela. I thought of her being so sad, dosed, and covered in the cum I'd intended into put in our only daughter. It wasn't a conscience, but it may have been the beginning of one. Lightning flashed outside. Its appearance gathered Yvette's attention and then she looked at me. Her face was cast in shadow --the only illumination came from the burning embers of her cigarette when she inhaled from it. She handed the cigarette to me and I breathed from her addiction. Temptation's Contrition I wondered why Yvette was this woman. What had I done wrong to lead her down this strange, sexually dominating path? Had I failed her? Her smoking and her tattoos pre-dated any legal age, but she'd done it all anyway. For the first time since she seduced me, I saw her as my true daughter and the revelation made me quake. I thought that maybe it wasn't my fault, but she had somehow embodied all of my moral weakness and immoral thirst. Perhaps that was why sex with her was so perfect --it was sex with the worst of myself. Or was it the best of myself? I handed her the cigarette. Yvette had realized long ago that all she had to offer this world was her superior sexual appetite. And she seemed pretty happy with that. But why did it have to be so mean? There were many examples of it. Her degrading mouth. The multi-media text messages of her fucking my enemy. Drinking her piss. Forcing a man to rape. Tonguing her ass. Cumming on her sleeping mother. What was it about all the darkness that got her rocks off? As her slave, I was forbidden to know. But as her father, I felt it was necessary to ask. I stopped the car in front of the church and she opened the van's door. "Let me guess," she shrugged bemusedly, "it's a non-smoking church?" She tossed her cigarette into the pouring rain and stepped out after it. I followed. There were no cars parked at the church, but it was unlocked. The pouring rain had made Yvette's white satin practically see-through as I looked at her in the light of the temple. The tint of her skin glowed in wet patches and her hips swayed between the pews on her way to the stone altar before the pulpit. There were dozens of candles lit before the empty congregation. "Where the fuck is he?" Yvette shouted. Her voice echoed in the wide open room. Faintly, the rap music from ears could be heard with a similar echo. Her wet satin breasts demonstrated her tan hue and just a touch of gold under each nipple. I collapsed in the forward-most pew. She stood in front of the pulpit, but it was her white high heels made her even taller. "This is bullshit," she sighed and removed a cigarette from her purse. "Yvette," I said softly. She lit her cigarette on a candle and blew smoke into the House of God. "It's because you made me late..." She said, not looking at me. "Yvette!" I shouted. And now it was my echo that carried. She looked at me oddly, like a kitten that saw the sheets move. Her hand pulled her earbuds out of her ears, but she held her ground. "I...I..." I stammered as her crystal blue eyes bore through me from on high. "Can... can we talk?" She blew smoke down over her body and let her lips put on a show of amusement. "You want to change the deal?" "No. No." I said shortly. "The deal is great. I fucking love the deal. The deal... the deal has made me feel more manly in the last week than I've felt since... since I first jacked off to Penthouse." "Good. Because you can't change the deal. Only I can." "What do you mean I can't change—" "Kyle. If you... defy me. If you piss me off? I will destroy you." Her eyes were cold, simple, and final. I got goose bumps as she glared at me from behind her cigarette. What did she mean by that? This wasn't the conversation I wanted to have! "This isn't about—" "You've been a great boy so far, Kyle, father, daddy..." she said lowly, smoke rolling down from her nose. "I have no complaints. You take your punishment and you take it like a man. You haven't fucked mom—" "How do you know?" I blurted. I had to bait her. "I would know." She said finally. "Kyle. I would know." If I had goose bumps before, now I had chills. "But... I don't want to talk about the deal." "There's nothing but the deal. For you." I stood up and approached her slowly. "There's you." "Don't ask about me." "Yvette, baby, I want to ask you—" "Don't. I told you 'don't.' Don't deny me!" I froze in my tracks and my hand reached out to her. "Baby..." I said, my voice just over a whisper. My full grown, baby girl had a tear going down her cheek and she took a step back. She set her cigarette on the pulpit with an absent mind. She turned her face away, maybe to hide this vulnerability. "Baby, please... I love you." I gasped with tears of my own welling up. "Love is for flat dicks." She held a hand out toward me and motioned me forward. I approached with heavy, uncertain footing. My eyes were amiss in the candle light. Yvette faced me with tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were filled with rage. "Take off my dress." This was suddenly the last thing I wanted to hear. "Come on!" Her voice screeched and echoed off of the stained glass. I put my fingers on her shoulders and slipped the straps down over her arms. My fingertips brought the fabric down over her smooth, tanned skin. The scoop that held her left breast dropped. The right was shown immediately afterward. I ignored her chest and held her furious gaze. My hands forced the satin down over her hips and the material dropped down around her ankles. All she had now were her white high heels. "Gonna fuck me now, daddy?" She spat at me. "Only if you make me." Her cigarette had burned itself out on the pulpit --leaving a long ash and a burn in the construction. "Fuck me then." She said with her blue eyes wet like a reflection in a pond. I didn't move. Her hands flew to my face and she squished my cheeks together. I ignored the pain of it as she forced my tongue out from my lips. She brought her wet cheeks to my face and smeared her lipstick against me. "Fuck me. Fuck me. I am telling you... what to do..." There was no kiss to be had, just unbridled hatred. My hands went to her hips and she released my face. Her lips went to my ear and I felt her teeth pull down on my earlobe. Her tongue darted out and whipped all over my inner ear, panting and desperate. I pulled away from her. Her full, naked chest heaved before me and I knelt slowly before her. My hands traced her hips and her outer thigh. I brought my fingers around the backs of her calves until I was touching her ankles. And then I unbuckled her shoes. I could feel her eyes bearing down on the back of my head. I lifted her left foot from her shoe and set it onto the altar before the pulpit. I did the right foot with similar grace and my only daughter was completely naked now. The only sound was our breathing. Hers was sick with shaking and mine was determined. I raised my nose upward and touched my nose to her inner thigh. I dragged my teeth upward, combing her tanned flesh. I heard her sigh and I felt her hands go to the back of my head. There was a tenderness to her touch that I had never experienced as her fingers delicately stroked my short hair. "Eat me, daddy... eat me pussy..." From this position, I could smell her pussy, but it didn't seem particularly wet. My nose nudged the dry folds of her pussy lips. I kissed just below her clit. I only found anything inviting deep inside and protected. But I couldn't pursue that without my fingers. My daughter's twat was sapless. I withdrew and looked up at her. Her face seemed so innocent and curious. There was only a hint of a dominating bitch trapped behind her wide, perfect blue eyes. I saw her mind make an adjustment and she sat down on top of the stone altar, her tanned ass the greatest offering given to this church. "This is cold." She joked I gazed up at her naked legs and she opened them wide for me. Her fingers parted her pussy lips and her neck slouched to invite me. Her perfectly pink folds were opened wide for me and I crawled toward her. On my knees, it was a perfect kiss. I touched my tongue to her insides and closed my eyes. I touched to the left of her and to the right of her. I lifted my tongue to urge her little man to make her wet. But she wasn't exciting her at all. I touched a finger to her and forced it into her. She gasped. My finger felt her cooch compensate for the dryness, but my lips couldn't find the same. I leaned back to look up at her. Fat tears fell from her chin and between her breasts. "I love you, Yvette..." I whispered. "I love you." She said nothing. She only pushed my face back to her pussy. "I love you," I repeated and touched my tongue to her again. I felt her acrid flavor let loose of her walls. I mouthed the words "I love you" and I found my tongue getting sloshed with her most gracious, physical response. My daughter got wet for me. I joined my efforts with two fingers from each hand to force her lips apart and penetrate her as fully as I could. The work was rewarded with Yvette's sweetest warmed syrup. My tongue, lips, and fingers found equilibrium as I tried to show my baby girl how much I loved her. Her hands gripped my balding hair and pulled with demanding encouragement. Yvette raised her thighs around my cheeks and I felt her back arch as she fucked my face there on the altar. Her breathing soared, catching up with itself, and I knew she was approaching orgasm. And then she shoved me away. "Take off your pants!" She shouted as she joined me on the floor. I unbuckled myself slowly, as if I was missing the timing of the song. Her hands helped mine desperately. She shoved my pants down while the zipper was still up. My limp cock rested long over my very hairy balls. Immediately, Yvette's mouth took in the full amount of my meat. I felt my dick fold over itself and twist to fill her cheeks. She gulped and sucked, but I couldn't feel any result. She released my dork and I saw the string of her hungry saliva go to my dormant member. Her hands went to it and squeezed. She stroked me aggressively. I realized the erection wasn't going to happen. And so did she. "Goddammit!" She shrieked. I sat up and put my arms around her. She refused to give up. Her hands redoubled their efforts. I felt her squeeze my balls and her palms chafe my puddy. "Let go. Let go of it, Yvette..." I pleaded. "Don't tell me..." She hissed. "...you don't tell me!" I rolled the two of us onto our sides. I was gripping her from behind. Her hands slipped from my cock. She put her left thumb into her mouth. I held my nude daughter on the church floor; my impotent prick's head was low on her thigh. I could feel her in my arms, radiating anger, and sucking her thumb. I touched my nose to her hair and slipped it from her ear. With her earlobe exposed, I sucked it between my lips. I moved a hand around to the thumb in her mouth and I pulled it from her lips. She whimpered a protest. And then both of her hands grabbed mine and smeared them over her tits. My palms rubbed her pouting nipples and her dangling rings. "...make it hard, papa..." she breathed. She hadn't used 'papa' for years. Couldn't even say when was the last time. How could I not know something like that? Maybe my moral lapses were worse than all of this adultery and incest. Maybe, in my soul, I fathered Yvette to become exactly like my own unkind, selfish soul. "...make it hard for me, papa..." "...I love you, sweetheart..." I found myself using the nickname I hadn't used for her since that time. I kissed her neck. "...I want it hard, papa... make it hard..." "...I love you..." From this position, I was convinced that my confession was the latest bad punch line in a long running joke for Yvette. I don't think the girl believed in love. I was pretty sure she'd written the concept off. And I felt guilty for endorsing her point of view by taking her pussy so many times. This introspective moment was shattered when she contradicted my theory. "...I love you too, papa..." she said. Her head turned abruptly to look me in the eyes. Her mascara was washed by tears now and her lipstick was a joke. Her wet eyes seemed unable to focus on me as she comprehended her words. She put her hand around my neck to hold my face down so she could kiss me. It was a wet, sloppy kiss. I felt her tongue shove passed my teeth and wriggle with the misdirection of a virgin. My cock --hard as steel-- slid into her from behind. She shook against me as I filled her pussy so deep in one slice. Her eyes held mine and they were the eyes of my best little girl --the girl who got first place at the spelling bee, the girl turned down for cheerleader, the girl who broke her front tooth while ice skating. And my dick was balls deep in her. "...oh, papa..." she slurred, breaking my gaze. "...I've been so bad..." "I've been bad too, sweetheart..." I pulled back and pushed into her again. She rolled onto her chest and that forced me to be above her. "Let's be bad together, papa, okay..?" Yvette was now flat on her belly, her tits smashed into the floor. With her legs so close together, my hard on was treated to her tightest scenario. I withdrew slowly, letting her feel the whole yard. She yelped, feeling the loss of her papa's great link. I saw the helmet of my beast beneath me, still being held by my sweetheart's pudgy petals --it was purple and fat. The shaft was thick with blood and veins, slick with my girl's generous juice. And I gave it all back as I set my legs on either side of hers. "I love you... Yvette... tell me to stop saying it..." She gasped as my length filled her. "I love you..." I repeated. "...if you tell me to, I won't say it..." I felt her muscles squeeze my length and I withdrew only to please her again. "When I pull out, sweetheart... I want you to flip over." "Why, papa?" My nineteen year-old asked with a childish voice. "I want to see your beautiful face." I brought my cock out and Yvette turned over. Her tanned body was spread out before me. The body of a woman was in front of me --it was bronzed, slim, and damp with sweat. The D-Cup breasts on her chest were flattened by gravity, nipples stabbing like the steeple high above us. She touched her foot to my cock and gave a giggle. I crawled between her legs and slid myself into her again. "...feels so good, papa..." Her hands went to my neck and her legs wrapped around my ass. "I know, sweetheart... I know..." I couldn't tell if this was Yvette or some strange, split personality. But as I moved in and out of her, I wanted more than her body... I wanted her to confide in me. I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to be her dad. Why hadn't she let me in? This last question made me thrust into her harder and she yelped. I felt my rod drag up and down against the nub of her clit. Her shout encouraged me to pick up the pace. I wanted to drive my point home. I resented her. I lusted for her. I'd found strength in her and I wanted to destroy that strength. My hips rose and fell between her thighs with aggression. I stopped making love to my daughter and I started fucking her. "Oh..!" She cried out. "...papa...it feels so good! It's so big!" "I love you, Yvette!" I grunted. "Do it like that!" She panted. "I like it like this! I like it hard. I like it so hard, papa..." I felt beads of sweat building on my face and chest. With my pants around my thighs, I gave into the feelings of my balls and the thirst of my cock. The heat from her running sap became that of my familiar whore and I gave as good as I got. She moved her hips against my efforts, compounding our needs. I watched her lips drop open to praise her chest with more glorious air. The breath below my face was stained in tears, nicotine, and just a touch of whiskey. I heard her breath get tainted by her voice as she grunted and gasped. The sounds of our passion filled the hall of the church. Our movements were rising and falling with a burden of absolute lust. Her sweaty needs challenged me and I responded in kind. The two of us fucked on the floor of god's castle as hard as we could. As our passion mounted, we ignored each others' eyes, giving into the absolute concentration of a perfect orgasm. And then it happened for her. I felt her back beneath me go flat as a board as her thighs contracted over my ass. Her head twisted on her neck as she breathed in sharply. She breathed in again. Her breath grew shorter as she chased the feeling my cock had brought her. I glimpsed her breasts trembling with the efforts of her lungs. I felt her pussy at its widest, an open pocket waiting to be filled. "Make... our... bay...bee... pa...pa..." She gasped out. My cum burned its way out of me and exploded into her womb. I felt gush after gush slam into her open, dripping walls as my hands clenched her rock-hard ass. I cried out as I offered even more of my seed to her hungry, needy pussy. Each burst grabbed at her insides, happy to be home. I collapsed on her heaving chest. My cock rested in her pussy. My daughter only breathed beneath me. I could have stayed there for hours, but I knew that I couldn't. I knew that this wasn't being a good father. I knew that if I had a question for her, now was the time to ask. I wasn't sure how to phrase the question. I realized it was probably more than one question. But as my dick softened inside of her, I wondered if I could ask and still respect her rules. I briefly considered whether or not it was even important for me to respect the rules. If I broke the rules, she'd never have me again --that was absolutely certain. But could she actually destroy me? "Yvette..?" I asked quietly.