11 comments/ 92992 views/ 26 favorites Time Will Make All Girls Into Women By: throwawayoutofpractice Michael breathed in deeply, the smoke from the campfires tickling his nose even though he was nowhere near them. This wasn't his first event- he knew that campfire smell would be something that followed him for weeks when he got home- but he thought some fresh air might do him some good. With only one other person in camp at this hour, when the parties would be at full swing, he figured he wouldn't get a better time to get away from the camp and relax a little. Perhaps the hornfuls of mead he'd swallowed really didn't help- they flushed his skin, and while he wasn't feeling particularly loose or hindered, he did feel good, as well as warm. He grabbed his towel and told Baern he was heading to the river. Baern wouldn't mind- he was stuck at camp anyway with an old ankle injury that had been bothering him since a rush they'd made that morning- so Michael didn't have to feel guilty as he left the colorful, homey ring of tents that represented the safety of his friends and made for the river they were lucky enough to be camped just beside. The grass was longish and slippery with dew as he crossed in his sandals, whipping at his legs just enough to stick here and there. He heard the distant sound of drums in a familiar opening run as he gently stepped into the river shallows. He'd personally mapped this river himself by hand and foot for quite some distance up and downstream when he'd started coming there years ago when his family was still young, overprotective to the point of paranoia. Luckily, he had the excuse that he wanted to make sure no one could sneak into the camp at night- which he proved quite impossible after a few mere minutes of swimming. Even where the cool, refreshing water was deep enough for his long legs not to drag along the bottom, the only exception to sides too steep to allow for climbing lay at the wallow where the river gently lapped the back of the camp. Trees on either side of the banks made this particular location feel almost isolated- not enough to kill the sound of the ever-present nighttime drums or the cannon-fire during the day, but enough that their campsite had quickly become the envy of the grounds. Not that Michael would ever let anyone else have it. Over his dead body, he'd said many times, and would say to anyone willing to listen. His hands gently beat the rhythm of the drums out against his thighs as he walked to a shelf they'd placed along the river to hold their towels while they swam, up off the grass and out of the way of the water. The light of the camp did not reach far past the circle of tents, themselves quick a few feet away, but it was to this end that they'd placed a stretch of tiki torches along this part of the river. The light was just enough to guide someone to the water, even to illuminate the shoreline and keep tender toes from injury, but they hadn't been able to find recesses strong or trustworthy enough along the steep banks to place other lights, so once in the water a swimmer was on their own. He knew he shouldn't swim alone, but he didn't particularly care. He knew this water like the back of his hand. With this in mind, he placed the towel across the top of the table, leaving his sandals under it. His hands occupied, he was forced to hum along with the drums as he took off his loose-fitting shirt and carefully stripped his kilt, winding the cloth around his arm and folding as he went, as much to keep it from the water as off the ground. He knew it would be some time before his campmates returned, and his daughter was at party at a camp he knew quite well to be safe, and he didn't expect anyone to return for quite a few hours. Dark had only come a short time- half an hour?- before and that meant all the time in the world to worry about indecency. With that, he strode into the water, cold against his skin after the alcohol. What flavor had it been? Blackberry? He mentally shrugged it off as he began to swim. He was floating on his back in a lazy circle when he heard a familiar voice. It seemed a bit distant and he didn't concern himself with it- it could be any number of the group returning to camp for any number of reasons, and nothing ever seemed pressing in this place. He dove under the water for a moment, into the dark, always keeping a careful eye on the orientation of the lights as he felt his way around the rocky wall to the left of the entrance to the little lagoon. He breached the water near the place where the river slipped over it's little bounds to continue it's flow away from it's pond and realized he'd gone too far from the shore, and turned to go back just in time to see a blur enter the water in a streak- whoever had come back to the camp had decided to go for a swim. He thought for a brief moment about his nudity, but it wasn't unusual at an event for people to go streaking for one reason or another, and he considered the campmates like family. He'd been in hot tubs with many of them before- even the women. It just wasn't something to be concerned about. The only person he might have to worry about- A glimpse of wine red hair breaching the surface told him he was in trouble. His daughter had come back from Hedgewood early? "What are you doing back from the party so early?" He asked as his daughter laughed, having spotted him. She tread water like a pro, her grin wide. She wiped strands of hair from her eyes and bobbed a little in the water, the light of the tiki torches not quite enough to illuminate her at this distance, her pale skin almost glowing with its own light in the dark. "It was getting kind of rowdy and I wasn't feeling it," she said, briefly casting her eyes to the side. She brushed a hand against her pale pink lips- no doubt the cool getting to her, she never did like it- and bobbed in the water with a kick that somehow gave the impression of a shrug. "Morgaine was getting a little too drunk for me and you know Bella was right there with her." She sneered a little, a cute little wrinkle of the nose. "Didn't feel like drinking tonight," Michael asked in a voice with no question in it. His daughter may have been a month from nineteen, but he knew as well as any parent how easy it was for the underage to gain alcohol at an event like this, and had discussed with her where and when she was safe to imbibe. With her friends, at their parent's campfire, regardless of the rowdiness of the party he knew she'd be safe. Especially since Morgaine's father was built like a bull with the temperament to match. "Well I tried the cordials, you know, the one's Rave's Mom made," she said with a teasing grin, expecting Michael to be jealous. He growled slightly, pretending to be, and she laughed, pleased. "She has strawberry-lemon and blackberry-raspberry this year." The growl changed to a mock glare and she showed her teeth, then gave him a sympathetic look. "She'll be bringing them by tomorrow for you, Daddy." "Thanks," he said grudgingly. She bobbed again, her collarbones briefly breaching the water to scatter the blue light around her further before she sank into the water again. "But yeah, after that I just wanted to come home. It just seemed to loud and you know I love the drums but I couldn't hear anything so I figured I'd just come home. It's not like we can't hear the drums from here." As if on cue, a louder, heavier dancing rhythm began. "Who brought you home?" Michael asked with a warning tone and Jenny rolled her eyes dramatically. "I had Bullwinkle walk me here. Nothing would've happened to me this early, Daddy," she added in an aggrieved tone. "Like I'd really walk home by myself just so you could lecture me." "You don't know what kind of things can happen to you out there. I don't know what I'd do if you disappeared on me at such a huge event like this. Not everyone," he added at her irritated look, "is as nice as the Hedgewoods people or the Lake Finn's. You have to be careful." She sighed, but smiled at him affectionately. "I promise I won't do anything dangerous." "You're damn right, you won't," he added, the growl this time much softer. He watched the firelight reflected on the water closer to shore and then at the way the starlight could barely be seen reflected on the rock wall slightly down the river from the beach. Only a few feet away and that light didn't do even the least bit of good- of course he was worried about his little girl. He didn't know what he'd do without her. He moved one of his arms in a steadying motion as he tread water and it brought back to his mind just how deliciously cool the water was on his skin- "Whatcha thinking about, Daddy," Jenny asked, looking over at the wall where his eyes had been when he'd stopped focusing. He shook his head and tried his hardest, but... "I don't remember," he answered, apologetically. "Is it about how dangerous it is? You know, I've been good. I'm going to stay in for the rest of the night, so if you want to get out there and go see some people I can help Uncle Baern keep the camp. I heard there weren't many guys at the Drink the Beer party over on Rhode Island, if you wanted to go see if that improves your chances at all." "Jenny!" Michael answered, scandalized. He didn't even hear the echo of his voice across the water, and it suddenly struck him how secluded this river was. Aside from the distant throb of drums and the lapping of water against the shore and the rocky shores, no other sound could be heard. It stood out to him in the wake of his attempt at protesting loudly. "What? You aren't still stuck on Mom, are you?" She asked, bobbing backwards as she realized how close she'd suddenly come. "Jenny-" Michael started, a warning in his voice, but she cut him off. "I know what you're going to say," she said, angry suddenly. "But it's been years and years, and it's just been you and me against the world, and everyone's worried about you." The response Michael had been giving her for years died in his throat. His surprise at her wording showed on his face plainly to his daughter. "I overheard Becka's Mom and Baern talking about it. They said Lady de la Leon was hitting on you, and you didn't even notice, and then Becka's Mom said something about how it's not healthy." Her wine-colored eyebrows knit together over her bright blue eyes, gunmetal in the lack of light. "Look, Jenny, I know what they're talking about, but since your mother left I just haven't been able to think about it." Michael felt the nameless, placeless pleasant feeling the alcohol had given him backing off as he spoke. This kind of shifting conversation was never very good for thoughtless joy. "When she left you were still so young, and you've been my whole life since then. I haven't really had time for anything else." "But I'm grown now," Jenny said in a plaintive tone. "You don't have to worry about me quite like you used to. I can dress myself, and get myself to school and home. Even if I have to have Bullwinkle walk me!" The statement was a joke, and Michael smiled. "You told me when you took me to the doctor to get the pill in February that I'm old enough to start making my own decisions, as long as I make them smart. So doesn't that kind of let you off the hook? A little?" She would've peered up into his face if they were on dry land, as it stood she just let herself sink a little into the water so she could give him that same adorable face she'd been trying to win him with since childhood. Only now, instead of a grubby kid in lop-sided pigtails, she looked up at him through long eyelashes with the same sort of eyes that made Michael demand she find the strongest and kindest-hearted man at Hedgewood to walk her home, at once the same and entirely different from the look Carol, his ex-wife, would give him when she wanted something. "You're right," Michael said with a bit of a sigh, and Jenny beamed. "You're right. I'll... entertain the idea of seeing these women when they ask. But I'll tell you what, I won't be starting with Becka's Mom. She might have you believing she's worried about my health but I guarantee the only thing she's worried about is that cold side of her bed." Jenny laughed and bobbed again, almost submerging herself completely only to surface, wiping water from her sparkling eyes. Seeing her laugh made the warmth of the mead creep back into his skin just a little- he could feel it especially across his shoulders and stomach, that warm looseness the water and the alcohol inspired in him. Along with the pleasant warm glow of a hard day's play in the field burning his muscles just slightly, he was in an excellent mood again. And Jenny- and Becka's Mom- were right. It had been a long time since he'd had anything to do with a woman of any sort. Not that he hadn't had the urge- here and there, usually helped along by the trailing fingertips of event-types trying to get his attention, or late at night. But heartbreak generally killed his libido completely. It wasn't that he was ignoring his needs, it's that he just didn't feel them quite the same way. It took a specific instance, or a specific woman, to ignite that same fire that had once burned in him on an almost constant basis. He wasn't who he used to be. He often wondered how much Carol had to do with that. "I have to admit," Jenny interrupted his thoughts with her voice. "I'm touhed to know that you were just worried about me all this time. I thought... maybe after the way Mom left us that you just... didn't want anything to do with women anymore." She breathed out after her sentence, as if she'd been holding her breath. Michael knew she only did that when she had said something difficult. "No, no, Jenny," he said, soothing. "I've always just been worried about you, that's all. You're the most important thing in my life." He reached out, his arm long enough to breach the distance between them, and with a finger brushed the underside of her chin. She smiled at him. "You're the most important thing to me, too." She caught his hand in both of hers, holding it up. "So do you think it will be long before I'm going to see another woman around?" A strange note in her voice let Michael know she was worried about something, and he didn't immediately know what it was, so he just reassured her, as he always had. "No one will ever take your place, you know that," he said in his most soothing voice. She smiled a little, and he knew that he'd figured it out. He captured one of her hands in his, rubbing it between his thumb and fingers. "I mean it, Jenny." "Well... I mean..." She took a deep breath. "We've gotten along without anybody else all this time. I just wonder... if we can't... keep on?" She looked up at him between those damp lashes, and he tried to figure out what she meant by that. He knew her well enough to know that she was nervous, but not what she was nervous about. The confusion showed on his face, so she started again. "we haven't needed anyone else for so long. And the way Mom left both of us, we've made do. And you've taken such good care of me, you now..." She breathed out in a gush again, and before Michael could consider what she'd said, she swam forward past his hand and wrapped her legs around his waist like she used to when they were playing and she was a child. It was such a familiar gesture that Michael was able to quickly correct his posture so they didn't sink, but at the same time, Michael became aware of one very important thing- Jenny wasn't wearing a bathing suit either. His face went slack in shock. He couldn't see Jenny's face, as it was almost over his shoulder in this postion, but she was latched to his waist above his kicking legs, her bare breasts pressed against his chest. He could feel her nipples, perky and alert, pressing into his skin, and a purely biological response began. He fought it, however, and kept himself from reacting, not the least reason of all because of how uncomfortable it would be while kicking. His right hand had slid up her back to press her to him instinctively to keep her safe locked against him- now he found it impossible to let her go, shocked. "I know you've been lonely, and I've only just gotten the nerve, but I want to help you," Jenny said, her voice quiet, coming from just above his ear as he tried not to focus on any one part of her naked form squeezing against him. "Let me take care of you, Daddy," she said, and her voice was breathy but trembling. "Jenny, you can't-" He knew he had to be careful here. He didn't want to hurt her feelings, and he didn't want to make her feel unattractive or in any way injure her growing maturity. She was precious to him and he couldn't just tell her she was insane. He was quiet for a long moment as he tried to figure out what to say to this naked girl pressed against him, trying to be kind to him. She was too young, and too innocent. "I know what I'm saying, and I know what I want. No one's here. There won't be anyone in camp for hours, and I gave Uncle Baern some of Maeve's sleeping cordial in a bottle of the new stuff. He's going to sleep til morning." She couldn't clench him tightly while he swam, and because of this she was forced to move up and down with him in the water, her body dragging along hers, her breasts and labia gently caressing him with the motion of his legs. "Mom's not here anymore. Let me take care of you. Take care of us." Michael refused to even consider it. He knew it had been a long time since he'd been with a woman but his own daughter? He couldn't blame his traitorous body- it was only natural that if he thought there might be sex he should start getting hard, as he was- but he knew better. He pushed not-quite onto his back and began side-swimming for shore, carrying his daughter with him. As soon as his feet touched bottom he carefully placed his legs down and began to push up to carry them to shore. It was at this point that his daughter wrapped her legs around him and carefully brought her body closer to his, and, reaching down, brought his erection between them. She had either taken his silence as consent or decided to take things into her own hands. Her head was barely breaching the water- in fact, the water was up to her lips- when she pulled herself to him. Now the length of his cock lay lengthwise between her labia and he had stopped moving- his skin was on fire for a completely different reason and he could hear the blood rushing in his ears. "Jenny," he started again, a warning in his voice, and she must have held her breath because she used her arms and legs to drag her pussy along his cock before resurfacing, and the electric feeling of it had made him gasp. "Come on, Daddy," she said, coming out of the water just enough to speak. "No one's ever going to know and you told me I could make my own decisions." She said the last almost as a challenge. His head a whirl, without considering her feelings, he started protesting. "I can't sleep with my own daughter," he started with first. "I'm not talking about sleeping," she answered, glib. "What if we get caught?" "We won't. I told you. I took care of it." "We don't have a condom," his traitorous mouth said, giving him away. "We don't need one," she said with a smile. "You got me on the pill, remember?" His brain was clamoring for his attention but his body was clamoring harder. He was twice her age but his libido had come roaring back to life with all the years of inattention he had been giving it, and she was willing. Not only willing, arguing! At this point she'd recognized that her father was finding arguments, which meant that he was not only considering the idea, he was fighting it. She decided she had the upper hand. "Come on," she said as if irritated. "Won't you just put it in already?" That tone had always struck him as a challenge, and she had pitched it just right. Still, his mind whirled, it would be impractical to try and have sex right there, in the water, where neither of them had leverage. Before he could think better of it, he was swimming with her to a likely shelf of rock. He hoped it wouldn't be too sharp as he turned to press her against it, and he saw that her eyes were wide, but not in pain. He had chosen a spot against the wall where he knew handholds were available, but he knew he might not even need them. He carefully wedged his feet down into the mud, planting them carefully to make sure they wouldn't slip. He didn't want to do this in the water but every time he started to have second thoughts Jenny would rub against his cock, or arch her back to bring her breasts above the water where he could see the perky, perfect, pink aureola in the gloom, her porcelain skin shining wetly. When he was certain he wouldn't lose his footing, he looked down at her, pressed against the rock, looking up at her. Time Will Make All Girls Into Women "What can I do?" She asked. He looked at her again, and she was sitting up now, slightly lower on the shelf than he'd prefer. The water came up to the edge of the shelf but didn't come above it, and that was perfect as far as he was concerned, but he wasn't at all certain (no matter how hard his cock) that he could do this. Just as he started to have second doubts, she reached up and kissed him. At first it was the tentative kiss he was used to receiving- goodbye, goodnight, thank you- but not an entire second passed before she had opened her mouth against his, kissing him passionately. Whatever else she'd had time to learn, the girl knew how to kiss- his body strained against hers as they kissed, inflamed, hungry. She curled her fingers in his hair and ran a hand along his neck, his ear, his jaw, his chest, and lower. A tentative touch on his dick and an entirely too gentle hand encircling it, rubbing it- she hadn't practiced this very often, at least. Still, the gentle touch was almost more maddening than a deft touch could be- it turned him on and did nothing to reassure him that relief was coming. He felt her shivering against him and wrapped his arms around her, worried about the cold, and she made a sound in her throat- a breathy sound, part affection, part moan. She let go of his cock and wrapped her legs around him again. This forced his to stand straight and broke their kiss- sitting like this, she only came to his collar bone, but they fit together like matched spoons. Still, she pulled his groin roughly to hers, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to stop himself. He didn't want to rush. He reached down to feel the weight of her breasts in his hands and roughly massaged them, watching her face with the trained eye of a man who'd had many satisfied women in his life. Before he could even think about the possibility that he was, indeed, out of practice, he saw a telltale shimmer in her eyes that told him just how much she enjoyed the way he was handling her B-cups. He bent his head low to place his mouth on one of her nipples and she tilted her head back and moaned, her hips bucking involuntarily against him. He pulled his hips back a little as her legs went slack and position himself differently, laying her forward on the stone, leaning over her body and aligning his cock where he believed her entrance to be. She spread her legs at this, an invitation, one of her hands in his hair and the other curled, limp, on the stone beside her. He switched to her other breast, rubbing the one he'd just left, wiggling his hips slightly to brush his cock against her entrance. She gasped, though at which sensation he couldn't tell. He began to nibble at her neck, a perfect distraction as she cooed against him, shivering in pleasure. He knew a receptive girl when he felt one- she was so sensitive he felt she was already half there. He wanted her to enjoy this, as wrong as it was, and dropped a hand between her thighs to find the telltale slipperiness that river water does not leave behind. In fact, there was so much of it that it had run a bit down her thighs, making her quite a mess, but assuring him she was quite ready. Still... He nibbled gently on her ear as she clutch his back, the questing hand slipping between her folds and deftly finding her clitoris. She gasped so loudly when he brushed it, and arched so violently that he almost thought she'd come from the one touch- but he hadn't felt the quivering reaction so he simply waited for her to relax. When she slumped back onto the rock he nibbled her slightly harder and flicked her clit again, and this time her gasp came a little less loudly, a little less forcefully. He established a simple, slow pace, but before he had been at it for very long she grasped him almost painfully, a gush of liquid meeting his hand. A squirter. If he could have grown any harder, he would've. As it was, the blood pounding in his ears gave him absolutely no rest. He continued to exploit her orgasm as skillfully as he had any number of women before she was born- regardless of whether it was wrong or not, he wanted her to feel as good as it was within his power to cause. No matter who she'd needed the pills for, she was with him now, and she had always been one of the kindest, most caring people he'd known. He loved her desperately, and couldn't imagine ever giving her anything than his best. When he felt she'd been sufficiently warmed up he stopped, letting her fall, gasping, back to her makeshift bed on the rock. He kissed her naked flesh for a few moments, erection neglected (though throbbing mercilessly), waiting for her to recover, and when her breathing had almost returned to normal, he began teasing her entrance and her clit again, working her up this time a bit more slowly, a bit more tortuously, a bit more thoroughly. The smell of her sex was all but coating him, as well as the fluids she'd gushed onto him, and only an immense patience kept him from ramming it home right then. He teased her to the brink of orgasm and stopped... Teased her to the brink once more, and stopped. He continued this for a time, always bringing her close, always stopping. She grew so hot that it would take no more than a few seconds before she was almost orgasming against him and he would have to stop. After a lengthy time of this, she looked up at him under lids heavy with desire, her skin glowing soft and supple before him. "Daddy, please. Whatever you're going to do, just do it! I can't take it anymore!" He grinned, a predator's smile, and leaned forward, kissing her as she whimpered into his mouth, hungry. Her legs she'd spread wide again, and the tip of his cock touched the warm wetness there. He forced himself not to move for some time, simply kissing her. Finally, he pulled her ass to the edge of the rock, and slightly over, causing her to rest her weight on him and give him excellent leverage. Then, carefully, slowly, he guided himself into her... And stopped. How tight was she? He was maybe the tiniest bit within her, wrapped in suffocating heat and wet, and looked down at her. A gentle prodding did nothing, and finally with a shock that rippled through him he realized- "You're a virgin?" He asked quietly, shock on his face. Her eyebrows came down sharply. "Of course. What did you think I was?" He had to take a few gasping breaths, realizing this, and she lay back again. "Come on, Daddy! Don't stop now!" "Oh, I won't," he growled, his voice a promise as he pushed himself in, carefully, skillfully breaking her hymen and claiming her. She let out a muffled yelp and he didn't stop pushing in, slowly, until he was completely sheathed in her heat, her virgin pussy so tight on his cock that he could hardly breathe. He stopped moving, giving her a moment to adjust, watching her through half-lidded eyes. He could've blown his first load then and there but knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he couldn't live with himself if he did. If she was a virgin, she couldn't understand how quickly he could gain his strength back, especially now that the reality was on him, hard and heavy. She was gasping beneath him, coping with the brief pain and the less brief tension of feeling him, long and thick inside of her where nothing had ever been before. Even as he held still, she throbbed around him, and it grew more and more difficult for him to hold back and keep from pounding her, hard and deep, for those brief few moments it would take. "...Jenny..." "Just... don't move yet, Daddy," she breathed, looking up at him, "I want to get used to it..." "If I don't move soon, baby," he ground out, looking down at her face. She blinked up at him. "I'll be able to continue in a moment I just... won't have a choice..." "Oh, no, Daddy!" She said breathlessly. "As long as you can keep going, eventually... you can come, Daddy. I want you to," she said, demure, and that was all it took, blood thundering, and he poured into her, trying not to howl. He growled as he released, all at once, violently and deep into her. She gasped as she felt his cock throbbing inside of her, pressed against her, his cum pumping deep. She locked her legs around him violently, hands locked behind his neck even as she couldn't quite pull him to her, and when he was done he held still, gasping, already feeling it building back up inside of him. Some primal instinct to fill her completely, a woman, and his already, and he couldn't stop himself. After a minute passed, her legs dropped carefully to the stone next to his, and her hands trailed down his skin, tracing fire there again. The cold he hadn't felt before he came was on him now, but she was banishing it with her gentle touch. About thirty seconds before he was ready, she spoke softly. "I'm ready for you to move, now, Daddy," and he nodded, his cock never softening. He slowly, slowly, pulled from her and she arched, feeling every bit of the veins and ridges in his cock against her, and he watched her gasping as he slowly, carefully, slid home again. She was still hot from before and now, adjusted to him, and only him, within her, she was beginning to feel the pleasure behind the pain. It didn't take him long to find the perfect angle. He took his time, working her body with his like a master, rubbing her clit against his pubic mound as he slid home, pulling upward as he pulled out, making her moan like a bitch in heat. She belonged to him before but now he'd claimed her, and he wouldn't stop claiming her until she was exhausted and he couldn't go on. The first orgasm had been the fire clearing away the deadwood, now he had his form back and he didn't have to grit his teeth to find the rhythm of the drums and press it to her, slowly finding what made her hands form into claws against his back, her young, perfect, lithe form driven into the rock as he mercilessly fucked her. He clenched his teeth, and though there was no way to mark the passage of time, he knew it had been forever, because by the time he was getting close again, she'd been begging him to stop between orgasms for what must have been at least half an hour. "Daddy, oh God, Daddy, it's too much, it's too good, please!" The last she said with a plaintive voice as her back arched her her body exploded again. Long since spent of fluid, she'd soaked herself and him repeatedly, bursts of warmth in the otherwise cool of the night air and the water. Now, no doubt dehydrated, her slick, hot pussy was taking what was left of her moisture. He had taken her hands and guided them to her breasts, showing her, by pressing her hands and telling her what he wanted, just how to massage them. Even when she came, arching off the stone, her hands stayed locked to her breasts, tense around them. Several times he'd leaned down and mouthed or bitten them, once he'd bitten her hard as she came and it hadn't stopped her- in fact, she'd gushed the hardest, the surprise helping her to let go and achieve a mind-blowing orgasm. She would collapse, gasping, and he wouldn't change his tempo, and her body would bring her right back to peak pleasure within moments. His cock was throbbing again, his body moving to the beat of the drums, a sensual beat as they so often made. He must've entered a trance, the pleasure washing over him, through him, into her, and she was engulfed with it. Finally he felt he couldn't fight his own orgasm off any longer, and he was coming close. He grit his teeth against it, wanting to give her a truly memorable experience, wanting this to last forever. He must've made some sound, because her eyelids fluttered. "Daddy, are you close?" She asked. He nodded, barely, his muscles tight, his body taut. "Daddy," she gasped, "I want it. Give it to me," she moaned, and he felt his body shaking so hard his teeth chattered. "Daddy," she gasped again, barely able to breathe, "I never took my pill." Realization struck him like a bolt of lightning. Not just any woman lay below him, but a fertile, willing one, and he couldn't stop it, he came again, pumping deep into her as she moaned, low but deep, her body vibrating with it. She milked his cock, her pussy starving and sucking at him, as if he hadn't filled her already. He came, and came, the rush of blood in his ears like the pounding of the drums, and it was all he could do to keep from blacking out. He lay against her, panting, as she stroked his hair. He carefully pulled first one leg and then the other from the mud under the water, the cold seeping into his muscles and then into his bones. His cock was still buried deep in his daughter, softening slowly, leaking into her more of his semen, for all he knew swimming into her womb, there to impregnate her. He fought for a brief moment with the horror he felt at having taken the virginity of his only daughter, who he'd sworn to protect, and then felt that growing satisfaction at having done it so thoroughly that she may even now be filled with his offspring. Disgusted with himself, he thought of her swelling, filled with life he'd sown in her, and of her breasts filling with milk to feed that offspring, and he had to fight a sickening urge to fuck her again, just to be sure. She continued to stroke his hair and shoulders as his breathing started to calm, her body occasionally twitching and rolling beneath him, her pussy spasming at his cock as if to drain the last of his cum from him. She sighed, content. He knew that sound. He'd heard many women before her make that sound after he had done exactly as he meant to. Only now it was his little girl making it. After a few more moments of silence he noticed the sound of the drums picking back up into a feverish beat. The sound of drunken drummers, he mused, which meant they would have maybe two more sets before they would have to quit. The sky didn't show the first hint of false dawn, but he knew it would be there soon, relatively speaking. And now, his daughter was shaking below him. He looked down to see her laughing. "What's so funny?" He asked, meaning to sound outraged but managing only exhausted. "I just feel so awkward," she answered. "I'm trying to figure out how to apologize to my father for lying to him." Michael sat up on his elbows, looking down at her, feeling his feet slip on the river bed he'd extracted himself from. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she said honestly, sincerely. "I didn't mean to say I hadn't taken my pill. It's just... it slipped out. I wasn't thinking." He blinked in shock, relief warring with disappointment in his heart. "Why would you say that?" He asked, none of the horror he meant to express in his voice. "It's just... It really turns me on," she said quietly, blushing. "I'm sorry." He lay his head back down on her stomach, fighting to make sure relief won the war of feelings. He kissed her abdomen gently and stood. "That's okay. Let's get cleaned up," he offered her a hand which, by nature, she didn't accept, and as she went to slide into the water she almost fell, a pervasive weakness in every single one of her muscles betraying her. She groaned as Michael helped her up. "That was so... much," she said quietly as Michael placed her hands on his shoulder and leaned down to clean her, carefully. It took quite some time to rinse away the proof of their efforts, and when he told her to spread her legs more so he could clean her thoroughly, she stopped him. "Leave as much as you can... so I can pretend," she said with a blush, and he felt an answering blush in her face. He knew how he was supposed to feel, but he couldn't find it in him anywhere. He had always adored his daughter- now she belonged to him more thoroughly than ever before. As he worked in silence, she began to speak to him. "Daddy, I hope that wasn't too forward. I hope you didn't hate it. I enjoyed it a great deal. I'd like to do it again, with you, sometime, if that's okay." A mile a minute, all the ways in which she could say she had fun and didn't want to upset him. He knew she needed reassuring, but he let her babble as he cleaned her, helping to get rid of that nervous energy so she would be able to rest well. She would need it for tomorrow; he had never tossed a virgin that could walk steadily afterward. "...if it would make you feel better, we can pretend it never happened," She ended with, and he finished cleaning her and swept her into his arms for a kiss, into which she melted completely. "We'll do no such thing," he answered, and, having already rinsed himself off, he offered her his arm, which she took. He escorted her wobbling frame to the beach where he found, next to his pile of neatly folded clothes, her own. She'd known he was naked and had planned this all out from the beginning. "We'll talk about this when we get home." She started to protest but he placed a finger on her lips and she stilled. "In the meantime, I know for a fact that Tamara will be watching camp tomorrow night, and there's an ungodly party happening at Winterswood. We can sit by the fire and talk quietly about what happened, and you will be very, very sore. I imagine I know just the thing for that soreness," he said with a bit of a grin, and her eyes lit up. "Oh, thank you, Daddy!" She said and hugged him, her perfect body pressed against his. He held her close, kissing her on the head like he always had, and from the same place of affection. Nothing had really changed, he felt, and yet so much had. "I can't wait already!" They dressed and made their way back to camp to find Baern sleeping exactly as Jenny had left him. They sat beside the fire, which Michael rebuilt as it was nothing but embers, and dried in the warmth, hands gently touching each other at all times as if for support. When the rest of the camp arrived, two-thirds drunk and three-thirds exhausted, everything seemed exactly the same. And when it came time for bed, Michael sent Jenny to her tent with a kiss on the head. "Did I see a bite mark on her neck?" Tamara asked, exhausted but sober. "Have you figured out whose responsible for that? If it was Bullwinkle I'll have his ass!" Michael smiled at the fire, and Tamara always after would wish she could be as wise as Michael was in that moment when he answered- "There's no reason to get upset about it, Tamara. Time will make all girls into women eventually." *** So I'm not familiar at all with literotica, but I used to write way, way back in the day for aff.net when you were allowed to write proper porn. Anyways, I've been trying to get back into writing (novels, by the way) and a friend of mine challenged me to a contest. So I could kind of... get my form back (NOT porn novels, I just wanna say) I decided to dust off the old one-shot writing skills. So here we are. I'll prolly write a couple more things but in the meantime, here's this. I'm sorry. Hahaha! Also, back when I wrote with AFF, we would often preface a one-shot with a little personal note like this. I don't know if people at literotica do that but I totally am. I'm sorry I haven't read a SINGLE THING on this website but... truth be told I'm trying to get my form back and I'd rather not accidentally incorporate someone else's. And, disclaimer -- I totally haven't got spellcheck on this computer. I dunno why. Sorry for errors. Oh, and to compound that... I didn't proof read this. That's why it's a throwaway account. If people love this stuff, I'll do more, but try not to make demands of me or critique anything. This is pretty much my version of stream-of-consciousness writing. Some people write stream-of-consciousness stuff like- people kitten sandwich snack mosquito blood fire amber ashes incense wind -that sort of thing but I write porn. So here ya go. Enjoy? And the ACTUAL title and ACTUAL last line were, "Time makes all girls into women eventually" but it wouldn't fit on the website so... We make do with what we got.