1 comments/ 24513 views/ 30 favorites Once Upon a Christmas with Mommy By: Kethandra Note: despite the title, this is not a Mother-Son story. This story continues directly after the events of Once Upon A Christmas With Daddy and involves an estranged couple and their newly returned adult daughter. I suggest you read the first one first, but the choice is yours. There is some strife and anger in the story, but also love and reconciliation. And there is graphic sex, both incestuous and non. All characters are fictional, solely the author's intellectual property, over 18 and remain fully adult during any and all roleplay and wordplay scenarios depicted. ***** Four years ago. I heard a crash and cabinet doors slamming. Coming from my kitchen, though I lived alone. Almost three in the morning. I pulled on shorts and grabbed a baseball bat. The slamming continued. A woman cursed. I stepped into the kitchen entry. "Damn it, Priscilla, can I help you?" She spun with a sneer ready. "Doesn't seem that way, does it?" My 'wife' didn't seem too happy. Or sober. I sighed. "Looking for anything particular? If I knew what you were looking for in my cabinets, I might be able to direct you toward it." "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" She was pissy and pissed. "Direct me. Give orders. Everyone just doin' whatever you want, Mr. Director." She actually did that head bob thing like a Real Housewife of Los Attitudes. This was a small sample of why I did not live or interact with my wife, Priscilla. Not the head bobs. The angry outbursts and cruel attacks aimed at me and, until Priscilla chased her away, our daughter Christi. We each lived in separate halves of a large duplex we owned, and we still owned a car dealership together, one her father had started and we had expanded. We were still married. But this was the first in-person conversation, if you could call this conversing, we had held in almost a year. Weird, I know. I saw a single key on a woven band on the counter. I didn't recognize it, though the key was the same brand as my locks. I snagged it off the granite surface. "Hey! That's mine." Priscilla took a step toward me, reaching out. I wondered how she'd gotten in. She had sworn that all her keys to my side had been surrendered. Typical. "If this key fits my lock, no, it's not yours. And I bet it does. Why are you in my kitchen, Priscilla? Why do you have this key? Do you know it's three in the morning?" She backed up as I talked. "So many questions." She crossed her arms and pouted. Then realization and shock hit her as she asked, wide eyed, revealing a flash of the old Priscilla, the girl I had fallen for so hard, so long ago. "Is it really after three?" I nodded. Nobody asks that question that way unless they're pretty damn drunk. She must have been out for dinner, perhaps dancing; the dress she wore was made for it. A little black one, not totally form fitting, but showcasing her toned assets well. And make up. Maybe a little heavy handed around the eyes, but she looked damn good. I had thought she never went out anymore. "What was the other questions?" "Uh. Let me see. Why..." Were." She corrected herself. "What were. Who cares? I'm not answering your director questions." She pushed off the counter behind her and lurched for the key I had set beside me. I picked it back up before she was close. "Nope. The key is mine now, Priscilla. I'll change the locks tomorrow anyhow. Guess I should have done that a year ago." I hadn't changed the locks in case Christi came back. If she still had her key, and I wasn't here, I wanted my only daughter to know this was still her home, anytime. Here was Priscilla, once again, putting up another barrier between me and my daughter. "Gonna change the locks, huh?" She was slurring. "Will that make you feel safe, scarety cat? Always gotta be in control. Probably why...whatshername left." Before I had time to think, I was looming over her with my hand cocked back to slap her. After all the shit she pulled, she better not blame me for destroying our family and chasing away Christi. And calling our daughter "whatshername" added fuel to my anger. I held my hand, glared down at her. My reaction finally gave her the response she wanted. "You gonna hit me?" The sneer I had seen on her face when I first found her in the kitchen was back, bigger. "You wanna slam me up against a wall and choke me, you bastard?" She shoved my chest with both little hands. Hard enough with the heel of both palms that it hurt. Her eyes shined bright. "That right?" She continued. "You trade me in for a new model [another set of palms to my chest], steal my daughter from me [another], and now you're gonna beat me up, big man?" The third shove was way over the line. If she had caught me higher like that it could have broken my nose or some teeth. As it was, my chest was going to be sore. Probably her hands would be too, when she sobered up. I grabbed her by both arms, right above the elbow. Even with her still well-toned muscle, Priscilla was small enough my fingers wrapped entirely around her arms. I'm not sure how hard I shook her. I pulled her face close to mine. I spoke slowly, enunciating clearly, trying to control the rage I felt. "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Like you don't know? You fucking asshole!" Her kick caught me in the shin. I stumbled back, off balance. My butt hit the floor sliding, with her on top of me, just before my head slammed into the sheetrock wall. I saw stars. In an instant, Priscilla was on her knees straddling me on the floor. "Are you okay, Daddy? I didn't mean to..." Her voice, a small, high pitched one I hadn't heard her use in many years, trailed off as she started to rain kisses on the top and side of my head. Daddy? She used to call me that, back when we were trying to get pregnant, and when Christi had been a baby. For some reason she had stopped, about the time our daughter started walking and talking. My head was clearing out the stars and fog. Rewinding what had happened, a detail popped out. My vision had been distracted, but I thought I recalled seeing a flash of bare, shaved flesh when Priscilla's short dress came up as she hopped down on my lap. Not totally surprising, but funny what you forget about someone, living apart. She had started going 'commando' at my request when wearing dresses years ago. No panty or bra lines. I liked knowing her hot little body was hidden, but barely. My very drunk estranged wife was now stroking my head, holding her cheek against my temple. Through her dress, I could feel one small, firm breast against my jaw. I could feel the tiniest of shaking from her. Then she sniffled. Was she crying? Priscilla was not a crier. Slowly, unsure of the reaction I would get, I put my arms around her. The shaking increased. And the sounds. Almost an actual sob. She was definitely crying. "I'm so sorry, Daddy." It came out wet, muffled and full of despair. "Your little girl didn't mean to hurt you. Please forgive her, Daddy." I wrapped my left arm further around her tiny runner's waist while my right hand slid up to massage her neck. I whispered. "It's okay, baby girl." Little girl. Daddy. Baby girl. They took me back to those hungry, lusty, youthful days. She wanted me inside her, filling her with my seed, all the time. Me, her Daddy, filling my girl's belly with a baby. She seemed to crave an authority figure taking charge, taking her, allowing her the space to be the irresponsible one she had never permitted herself. She had been so incredibly turned on by the idea, able for once to let go, at least in words. Even If she initiated it, I was the one getting her pregnant; I was the one emptying inside her, knocking her up. And I was always Daddy, or Papa, but she was never Mommy. And that's how it worked out: I ended up being the active parent. Usually, the only actual parent. The more our daughter became a person, rather than just a wiggly, living doll, the less interest Priscilla showed in being a mother. And the meaner she became. She pulled my head in closer to her and I felt the other breast too. She touched a very tender spot on my skull and I winced. "Ow. Am I bleeding back there?" My voice no doubt must have sounded muffled to her. When I talked my cheeks moved against both her breasts, lodged as I was between them. "No blood on the wall." She sniffled. I winced again as she pressed her fingers on the spot. I imagined her examining them. She pressed again and I winced harder. "Hey!" "And none on your head." She took each side of my head in a hand and kissed the very top, like a blessing. Then her arms went around me again, careful to stay below the tender spot this time. Again, she started to shake in my arms, crying almost silently. What could I do? I hated her for years of cruel words and actions toward me and especially to our daughter, but I knew I hadn't married evil incarnate. She had a heart. She was just hurt somehow, or broken, only I didn't know how. "It's okay." I whispered and stroked the back of her neck at the base of her skull. She seemed to cry a little harder, or perhaps didn't hold back as much. So I simply held her. I might have been still stunned a bit from the blow to the head, but I started thinking how nice it felt to hold a sweet little sexy woman, even if she happened to be the only person in the world I personally hated. It had been a long time. I noticed how, while my arm was snaked around her narrow waist, my two lowest fingers were entirely on the swell of her small, very round bottom. I became aware of that inside curve where each breast disappeared into the sternum, that sexy transitional area displayed and manipulated by push-up bras and bikinis for generations. One of Priscilla's special spots she loved me to lick and taste, and its mirror image, both inches from my lips right now, and hidden under her clinging dress. Under my pinky finger, furthest down on her left hip, I thought I felt movement. One minuscule twitch. I felt my cock flop to the side in my loose shorts as it started to fill. At least Priscilla wouldn't be able to feel me getting hard. She'd assume it was from the Daddy talk and wouldn't let me forget it. I felt another twitch under my hand. And another. The movement was still very small, but definitely had the rhythm and motion of Priscilla humping her hips. On my lap, hugging me close, crying while she called me 'Daddy.' My left hand betrayed me. Making decisions it had no business making, it slid down and outwards an inch or two, onto the full slope of her hip, tugging my arm into a tighter grip in her waist. As she humped toward me a third time, the traitorous fingers cupped her firm ass cheek and pulled it closer, encouraging her action. "Daddy." It was almost not a word. It wasn't a sigh or a groan, either, but it was somewhere between those two, mixed with a pinch of questioning whine. It brought me the rest of the way erect. She started to ride me, taking my hand along with her. Held tight to her chest, I could feel her breath quicken. Then her thrusting brought her in contact with my now upraised cock, lifting the crotch of my shorts with it. She gasped and stopped moving. Stopped moving while pressing her groin against me. Her fingers entwined with my hair on either side of my head as she pushed herself back to look down at me. I looked up, the light a little too bright, either from having my face buried in her chest, or the impact with the wall. Her lips were parted and her eyes bright. She was very aroused. Black streaks ran down from both eyes, smeared on her cheeks. Her voice was small. "Is Daddy hard for his little girl?" She pushed harder against me, answering her own question. "Daddy's girl is getting wet and slippery." She started the humping motion again, looking down at me, as she pressed her front teeth into her lower lip. It had been almost a year since I had touched any woman, and now a beautiful woman, who knew every button I had to push, was pushing those buttons every way she could. Was she drunk? Probably. Did I hate her? Absolutely. But I'm not sure that those facts didn't add to my lust right then. I released my right hand from her neck and slid it low between us. With no hesitation, I let it slide down her belly, past the skirt of her dress bunched around her squatting hips, and directly between her swollen shaved lips. I held her waist tight when she arched, her head back. "Yes you are. You're a very slippery girl." She pulled my face up and kissed me, hard and sloppy. As her tongue went past my lips and I felt her tear-streaked cheeks wet against me, I shoved two fingers into her. She screamed into my mouth. As she screamed she humped her hips into my hand. I kissed her back, hungry and urgent. Finally, she pushed back from my lips and tongue, shuddering in a deep, ragged breath. I looked up at her, face more smeared that ever, and pressed my thumb alongside the hood over her clit. Keeping my fingers inside her, I moved my thumb in circles just above. Her eyes widened as her brows furrowed. "Daddy..." She wasn't in control anymore. "You like that, little slut?" "Uh huh." She answered. Her writhing hips answered the same. "Tell me what you like." "I..." She hesitated. "I...like Daddy's fingers...fucking me." "Good girl." I swirled my thumb around her clit a little faster. "Would you like anything else to fuck you, baby?" "Yeeeesss." "Tell me. Tell Daddy what you want." I let my fingers wander from inside her, to massage over her soaking lips. A slippery finger teased lightly over her tiny butthole before they slipped back into her. She looked like she might cry again. "I want. I want Daddy to fuck his little girl. With his thingy." "The finger thingy? I'm already doing that." "Nooo, Daddy. Your...penis thingy." "Say it." "I want Daddy to fuck me with his penis." She smiled, relieved to have gotten it out. "Call it a cock, sweetie. Call it a cock and ask me nicely." She took a deep breath. "Please, Daddy. Please fuck your little girl with your big fat cock." "Good girl." I wiggled my fingers as deeply into her as I could. I felt her body tensing. I unwrapped her waist, releasing her. "Okay. Suck me first." Her face showed open surprise but I ignored it. I reached into my own waistband and pulled my shorts down enough to free my cock. It sprung loose and upward. "Come on. Suck it." And she did. First she wiggled her hips back down past my knees. She leaned forward on both hands and took the head in her mouth. She immediately started to bob up and down on me, her ass held higher than her face. I reached out and grabbed a handful of dress. Enough to pull it up and expose her ass and back as she swallowed my cock. "Good girl." She answered with a "Mmmm." I could tell I wasn't going to last long, and didn't really want to. Part of me was disgusted with myself for not throwing the bitch out long ago. Part of me liked having her begging, groaning, and swallowing. A big part. Again, I reached out. This time I stretched forward, my hand open, before I brought it down on her exposed ass cheek with a hard smack. Her head popped up off of me in surprise. I didn't give a chance to protest. "Okay. That's enough. Turn around. It's time to fuck that little pussy." She seemed confused as to what I wanted her to do. "Turn around." I said it as though she was an idiot, or at least drunk. "On your knees." She spun around, resting her head on crossed arms on the floor as she wiggled that fine little bottom my way. I could see she was open, as well as the shine of her juices on her thighs and crack. She certainly was doing what she was told after complaining about me being Mr. Director. I pulled my shorts the rest of the way off and kneeled behind her. My breath was now ragged too. A long string glistened from the end of my cock where a drop of precum had fallen, stretching it behind. I grabbed my cock and dragged it up and past her slit. She pushed back, trying to get it inside. I slapped at her clit with it from below and she moaned over the smacking wet sounds it made. I dragged the head harder over clit, opening lips, and then teasing the crack of her ass with her own juices. With one hand, I lined the head up with her opening. "Yes." She whispered. "Is that what you want?" "Yes, Daddy. Please fuck me. Please fuck me with that fat cock. I neeeed it, Daddy." I wrapped my hand around the base, leaving the head and last couple inches of shaft sticking out beyond. "Push back on it, baby." She did. I guided it in, but held myself still. Priscilla pushed back until the head slipped between her swollen lips, holding her open. I heard a low whine, but she pushed again. She pulled back off of it and pushed back harder. I felt my cock opening her up again, then the wet smack as she met my hand. She pulled off again. I let her fuck herself a few times before directing her. "All the way out now. And push back hard." I felt my head slip all the way out of her. As it shoved back in I jerked my hand away. Her tiny body swallowed my whole length. Priscilla cried out and buckled. She might have dropped off my cock and down flat on the floor if I hadn't caught her hips. She was tiny, and limp in my hands. I still didn't move my hips, or not much. Instead I pistoned her little body back and forth on my cock, pulling her in tight as I filled her, then pushing her away, only to slam her back onto me again. I'm not sure if her knees were even touching the floor at that point. At first she couldn't said no words. It was just a series of cries that went higher in pitch whenever I buried my cock back into her. When I slowed a bit as I felt my balls tightening, she could finally speak. "Do you like that? Do you like fucking your little girl?" It came out of her as a fast low whisper. "I may regret it later, but yes. Yes, I like fucking you. Fucking you hard from behind." "Oh, Daddy, yes. Such a bad Daddy doing his girl that way. Giving it to her for being such a naughty naughty girl." My fingers dug into her ass and hips as I pulled her back up onto me with every thrust. Her dress had slid up to her shoulders, partly covering her face, exposing the side of one tit compressed into the mock wood floor. Her talk, my recent lack of sex, and the sight of her lean strong back arching below me had my balls tingling and my breath starting to get ragged. "You gonna cum in your little girl, Daddy? You gonna knock me up? Please, Daddy, cum in your baby." I groaned almost in pain. She knew I was about to burst. "Yes, Daddy. Cum in your slutty little girl. Pump her full. Mark her, Daddy." A guttural cry escaped me with my first spasm into her. "Yes! Fill your daughter up! Make Daddy's little girl your fucking slut." I watched her back flex and felt her start to convulse in orgasm. I stopped mid thrust as her words sank in. Your daughter? 'Daddy' implied that, but we had never gone there in our roleplay, used that term. "No! Don't stop now." Priscilla reached a hand blindly back toward me, pushed her pussy back onto my cock with a moan. "Fuck your girl, Daddy. You know you want to fuck your sexy slut of a daughter. Christi is here, Daddy, fuck her." I pushed her off me, onto the floor. I was disgusted to see my last spray of cum landing on her splayed legs. Her hand was between those legs. "Nooo. Why did you..." I stopped her by grabbing her arm, hauling her to her feet with me. I was furious. "That's what this all was? Some creepy accusation of incest?" I dragged her to the heavy double doors that provided the only interior connection between our two dwellings. Both were wide open. She stumbled when I half tossed her over the wide threshold. I had her secret key to mine now, but I'd still change the lock the next day. "Christi is not here, you treacherous bitch! She is not here because you're a miserable, bitter fragment of a person who lied to her family and tore them apart." Once Upon a Christmas with Mommy She yelled something I couldn't make out after I slammed my door. I could definitely hear her fists through the insulated steel. --- Describing that night to Christi was not the easiest thing I had ever done. The only reason I told my only daughter at all began with math. "Dad?" My daughter's brow was furrowed above her eyes. "Mom moved downstairs right after she kicked me out, right?" I nodded. "One week after." "So, five years ago." It wasn't a question. Christi had been 18 then. Now 23, it had been less than 48 hours since she'd come home. The first time in five years. "But, Dad, last night, when I asked you how long it had been since you'd had sex, you said four years." She simply watched as I tried to answer. I had tried to forget that night happened, after I rekeyed my locks. Her voice was serious when she continued. "Because, if you had told me it had been five years, Daddy, I never ever would have let you fuck me like that or cum on my titties." My head did an actual double take. My head had been swimming with memories of my wife, our trouble, and what information I wanted to share with our daughter. When my attention finally focused on Christi's face, as she reclined near the foot of my bed, I saw her on the verge of open laughter, amused with her ability to throw me off. When I smiled back at her, she held her arms out to me. As always, this made her beautiful full breasts jiggle, and with nothing covering them, I couldn't help but look before lowering myself into her embrace. She held me tight. We rolled so that we were both on our sides, facing and holding each other, our naked bodies pressed comfortably together. She kissed me. Her lips were soft and parted. They captured my upper lip, then my lower, before her tongue gently teased them open. Her tongue found mine. In reaction, I pulled her closer. She used the motion to roll up on top of me without breaking the intensifying kiss. The position protected the deep, bandaged cut on her foot. I groaned when I felt her hips begin to grind against me. Her hips continued their small focused movements as she sat up enough to look me in the eyes, smiling. I could see the love in her gaze. I smiled back up at her. Without thinking, I reached up to cup her mesmerizing tits swaying above me. My left thumb idly brushed her nipple. It was her turn to groan and I felt her hips stutter, then increase their motion. "Why did you lie to me, Daddy? I thought we said no lies between us." "I don't remember discussing that." "Well, it's a good idea, don't you think?" I made a cartoonish thinking face." I guess so. 'Honesty', someone said, 'is a pretty good policy.' "Did you tell the truth when you told me I was always welcome here?" "Of course, Sweetness." "Is it true you really do love me more than anyone?" "Absolutely." That one was easy. "Was it a lie when you screamed out I was the sexiest, most bestest lover you'd ever had?" I laughed. "I don't remember screaming that, but it wouldn't have been a lie. Poor grammatical use of the superlative, but not a lie." "Mmmmm." Her smile was bright. Her hips ground harder against me and I felt my cock swelling beneath her. I wasn't sure of the number, but it couldn't have been more than a matter of hours since I had flipped my gorgeous daughter onto her back and fucked her until I exploded inside her. After she had begged me, convinced me, that it was okay for us to be lovers, after so long apart, just once. "Since we're being honest, Daddy, " she paused while she concentrated on sliding her wetness over my now obvious swelling shaft. "Tell me about four years ago." I sighed. I could deny her nothing. So I told her about finding Priscilla in my kitchen, drunk. I surprised myself by going into the details of what she had said, what she had accused me of. I only left out some of my thoughts while it was happening. Christi kept moving on top of me as I spoke. I continued to almost absentmindedly play with her breasts. As I described my wife's actions and words, I could see in the rapt attention of my daughter that she was getting more and more aroused. I was completely hard and her juices were now being applied to my entire length as she rode me, as I recalled her mother's mouth sliding down on my cock, reminded of other times she sucked me, pushing her head down until close to choking her. Both of Christ's nipples were tiny diamonds under my touch, her eyes getting wild, as I recounted the daddy-talk her mother had used. She moaned openly and I felt her weight on my hands as her back arched in the combined pleasure of her grinding, and picturing my bending Priscilla over and fucking her hard on the kitchen floor. Obviously turned on by her mother giving herself to her daddy. When I finished, my girl's chest and face were flushed, and her breaths came hard and ragged. She leaned forward, pressed her naked body down against mine. I felt her warm breath and kisses under my jaw. "Damn, that's hot, Daddy." She licked slowly along my neck. "You punished Mommy for me. Or started to." I felt as much as heard a sign of contentment. "Wait." I thought she missed the point. "I wasn't punishing her." "She wanted you too." Every whisper was a vibration and a warm moist breath against my ear, punctuated by occasional soft touches of her lips. "She was accusing me of lusting for you: my daughter. And making that part of why you left. Her words." I quickly added the last, as I knew saying she 'left' upset Christi, since it implied it was her choice, rather than being kicked out by Priscilla. "I lust for you, Christi. I definitely do lust for my incredibly breath-taking, gorgeous, miraculous daughter, but the daughter I lust for is that stranger who showed up at my door. The stranger I didn't recognize because I was expecting a frightened teenager to come home and I found a woman instead. You." I wrapped my arms around my daughter. Even the mention of her absence made me a little insecure in the reality of her being here, finally home again. She pulled back against my embrace, enough that she could bring her face close to mine. There were tears in her eyes. She didn't say anything. Just kissed me, her lips relaxed soft and open. It deepened as my tongue slid over and teased my daughter's, but stayed gentle and slow. After a long moment like that she pushed herself back up to a sitting position. I let my arms loosen from around her as she rose, my hand slipping down to rest on her hips as she looked down at me, a serious look clouding her face. "Dad. You're an idiot." My eyebrows came up in surprise, but I stayed silent. "Do you love Mom?" I slumped. I'm sure my face was suddenly the clouded one. I knew I hated her, but did I love her? I hadn't filed for divorce, but I needed to stay here for Christi, in case she came home. It would have been so complicated, with the business and the Trust. My daughter must have seen my turmoil. She smiled down at me. "We'll come back to that question. Dad, Mom wasn't accusing you of anything." "Huh? You weren't there." I felt myself getting angry, tension rising in my neck and shoulders. Priscilla did that to me, even in absentia. "And you aren't a woman." She had me there. I would even admit to considering them, women, an unsolvable mystery. "She wasn't accusing you of lusting for me." Christi's smile changed then, and she moved her hips in one slow circle. "Prescient, wasn't she?" I smiled broadly up at her. "Prescient. Good word." I didn't entirely miss the irony of my fatherly pride at my child's vocabulary while she sat naked astride me, my cum leaking out of her. "Stay on topic. She was accusing you of abandoning her - your first daughter - for me. She was offering herself to you, even pretending to be me, to give you what you wanted." I shook my head, frustrated. "Honey, Christi, that's not right. You're my first and only daughter. Priscilla's my wife." "Didn't you say you used to call her Little Girl, Baby Girl, when she called you Daddy? Didn't that get you hard when she did, both four years ago and way back, before I was around?" My angry frustration was being replaced by uncertainty and an ache in my gut. "What girl calls a man 'Daddy' except his daughter? Whether she's literal offspring or not." She tapped me firmly with one finger, right in the middle of my forehead. "Think, Daddy. When you told me about you and Mom, it made sense, because I've thought a lot in the last five years. Why she hated me, how she treated you. I had help working through it. "As a woman, instead of a little girl, not living here, I could re-evaluate some of what I witnessed. I had to. I couldn't have survived thinking every hateful thing she said was true." Christi leaned forward enough to place both hands on my chest. She locked her eyes on mine. Though I kept my eyes on hers, I couldn't help but be aware of how her full young breasts pressed toward me between her arms, almost offering me her tiny little nipples. "You were her Daddy, Dad. And you treated her that way, until I came along. Then you abandoned her." I inhaled to rebut her accusation. She silenced me preemptively. "Just listen. This is her perception, not your reality. I'm telling you, as someone who grew up with both of you, as a woman who loves you and wants to love her, as a daughter who wants her parents to love each other and love her." I stayed quiet as I watched tears roll down my daughter's cheeks. She wiped one eye with the back of her hand before continuing, "How many times did I hear you tell her, yell at her, to grow up?" It brought back so many images of hurt looks on Priscilla's face, and anger in my gut. "Not only did you leave her, your first daughter, who called you Daddy while you fucked her. While you filled her with her Daddy's special cum. Leave her for a real daughter, one she couldn't compete with. Not only did you trade her in, after you did it you demanded that she quit being who she was, that she grow up. 'Not only am I not your Daddy anymore, you said. 'You're not my Little Girl!' Imagine how that hurt." I was in torment. What my daughter said made sense. I had, in the eyes of the little girl, my wife, who had given birth to Christi so many years ago, betrayed her. I could remember getting frustrated with Priscilla, yelling at her to 'grow up and act like an adult' when Christi needed care and my wife was insisting on being pampered too, like a spoiled teen. Christi was a fussy child and I was the one that got up at night. And during the day. I thought I was being a good parent and spouse; Priscilla interpreted it as abandonment and replacement. Perhaps. Priscilla had played the kid role, the bratty, spoiled teen with no sense of responsibility, until we had a kid of our own. It made her happy, it got me laid and was a definite turn on, so I gave her what she wanted. Later, I thought I was being an exemplary husband and father, doing more than my share of the childcare. Which took me away from my wife even more. Not her away from me tending the child, which is considered still the norm in our culture. Me away from her. I had babied her, spoiled her. I was a helicopter husband. Until I became a helicopter father, and abandoned my wife. "She loves you, Dad." Christi brought me back out of my thoughts, chastising myself for years of ignorance. "No. She hates me." This time her look let me know I was an idiot. "Do you love her, Dad?" I did. When I thought of my sweet wife, how she'd looked the first time she put her feet in the ocean, when she'd found out 'Daddy's seed' was planted in her, and so many more times, I grieved for the pain I had caused her. Caused us all. I could feel my throat tighten as I struggled to hold back my tears. I nodded. "Do you hate her for what she did to me, did to us, Daddy, for all those years?" Immediately the rage was back. My daughter was playing with me, plucking my strings like an expert. She had me angry, sorry, grieving, all while she kept my cock raging against her. Not only with her naked, forbidden sexual beauty, but by reminding me of filling her mother with 'Daddy's special cum.' "Do you think it might be possible for your wife, my mom, to both love and hate you? "Did she screw you out of the dealership? Undermine you? Divorce you? Could she have?" Christi's gaze softened. I think she could see that I was broken, distraught. Once again, she lowered herself onto me. Her chest pressed to mine, her breath on my neck, her hair tickling my nose and bringing me her musky wonderful scent. "She loves you." I thought it was possible my daughter might be right. I held her on top of me in silence. I felt raw and vulnerable, but also as though a burden has lifted. Occasionally I felt a soft kiss on my neck, just below my jaw. One kiss lingered longer than the others. And wetter. "She loves you." Her voice was deeper, more throaty. The next kiss, her lips parted enough for her tongue to taste me, sliding over the large tendon running up the side of my neck. I held back a moan, but couldn't help lifting my hips against her. "Yes, Daddy. Mommy loves you." Kiss. "Almost as much as I do." Her hips lifted off me as I felt her slide one hand between our bellies. Fingers aimed my stiff cock up and against her opening. My eyes opened wide. "Baby, what are you doing?" My voice came out as little more than a squeak. Her hand paused, but kept the contact between us steady, distracting, and very tempting, as she pushed up enough on her other arm to look at me. "What?" She sounded so innocent. "Daddy gets his little girl really fucking wet, with this wonderful cock rubbing against her while he tells the naughtiest story, and he doesn't expect a reaction?" "You asked for honesty, Sweetheart, and I gave you honesty." "Now I want you to give me something else." I felt her push my cockhead into her opening. I think I might have whined. "Baby! I thought we said 'Just this once'." Her mouth opened silently as her hips slid back, popping the head back out of her and rubbing it against her swollen clit. Once. Twice rubbing my ridge over her button. "This is still once. We're still in bed. It's still Christmas morning." She guided me back inside of her. A little bit deeper than before. "And you've still got your daughter's juices all over your cock, Daddy. Like she's got yours up in her belly." I thought she still had a little of my cum still on her chest as well. The trace amounts I hadn't licked, rubbed, or sucked off her amazing breasts. She sat straight up straddling my waist. She stared into my eyes as she lowered herself onto my shaft, easing it over half way into her. She removed her hand from between us, it's job done. I could see a sheen of moisture on her fingers as she brought them up to one tiny pink nipple. They pinched, then pulled, stretching her full breast to a point. Her eyes hadn't left me and I was aware of her studying me as I stared at her rolling her nipple between her fingers, pulling it tight. "No." I sat up. Christi's eyes went wide in surprise. She froze, my cock inside her, still stretching out one breast. I rolled to my side on the bed, taking her with me, while making sure she landed with her bandaged foot safely above rather than under us. My cock slipped out of her. I didn't give her a chance to protest my "no" or the change of positions. I grabbed her hips as I levered myself onto my knees on the bed and pulled her back to me, turning her face down. With no hesitation, I lined up my cockhead with the tight wet opening it had just left and again pulled her back toward me. This ended with her impaled on me, her ass pressing up and against my groin, her head down on the bed. Her sutured heel, from stepping on the shattered bottle yesterday, pointed safely upward as it had been when she'd kneeled above me. Christi groaned loudly. "Yes! That's what your little girl wants, Daddy!" Her face was pressed into the mattress with her head turned to the side. I could see a satisfied hungry grin as I pushed her away from me then pulled again, back and up onto me. "Oh, yeah. Fuck me with that fat cock!" She groaned again as I slammed harder into her, rocking my hips forward as I yanked her back. My fingers dug deep into the flesh of her hips. Without realizing it, I was baring my teeth as I filled my daughter again and again. She was beginning to push herself back onto my cock, adding to the force. "Yes, Daddy. Oh god. Yes." I kept my grip digging into her but relaxed my arms, allowed myself to feel and encourage her pushes, her rhythm. My hands rode along with her hips every time she impaled herself on my cock as I pushed my own hips forward. I pushed forward deep into her one more time then held still. My hands followed her as she leaned forward and away from me, then back again until her ass pressed to my stomach. "That's it, baby. Fuck your little pussy on my cock. Show Daddy what a hungry girl you are." My sexy, beautiful daughter whined at that, but pushed back harder, fucking herself on my cock. It was all I could do to hold still and not thrust hard into her as she's continued. "Daddy." The whine changed pitch. It was almost a question. "Daddy!" The second one sounded more alarmed, anxious. She still pushed back as hard but she had lost her steady rhythm. Each push back, forcing my cock into her again, seemed more frantic. She gasped in each breath now. "So." Gasp. "Close." The next time she pushed back I thrust forward. Not hard, not fast, but it caught her as she moved in the opposite direction. I heard her ragged inhale catch. She was pushing back more wildly and the extra force of me thrusting to meet her forced me deep into her. Deeper and harder than she expected. I watched the muscles contract down her back as it arched. Her hands clasped at the sheet and blankets. I took control of her hips again, instead of just letting my hands ride on her. She groaned long and low as she felt my hands stop her, hold her in place, before I slowly slid in. Out. In. I could barely hear her whisper. "Daddy." "Do you want to cum, baby girl?" I increased the speed and depth of my thrusts. She whined again as her arch deepened. "Tell me, baby. Let me hear you." My balls were tight, and ready to explode. "Daddy." "That's it. Tell Daddy what you need." I pushed in deep, then stayed in, sawing the bulbous head and ridge in small motions as far in as I could go, keeping her pinned against my groan as I pulled her back hard on me. "Please. Please, I'm so close. I need to cum. I need to cum on your big cock, Daddy!" I felt my control slip at her words. "Yes! Cum, baby. Cum for me. Make me cum inside you." Pulsing squeezes, the little internal convulsions of her climax, tightened around me as my balls erupted. Every thrusting pump of my cock was matched by another spasming pulse of her inner walls surrounding me. I came in her as she came around me, a bright timeless moment. My ears buzzed, I saw stars flash behind my eyes as I cried out. Pained, exhaulted, reveling in the wonder and the beauty while shocked at boundaries and taboos cast aside. I collapsed on top of my daughter, panting and light-headed. Christi twisted underneath me until we faced each other, her legs wrapped around my hips, heel safe, suspended above me. I was still mostly hard as she guided me back inside her, before wrapping me tight in her arms. Not moving, just holding. Shortly after I regained my breath, Christi nuzzled her cheek against mine. "Damn, you're a fine lover, Pops." I laughed. It sounded so ridiculous. She joined in. I found myself laughing much longer and harder than the situation called for. I think the whirlwind of events got to me. Once Upon a Christmas with Mommy I was still laughing as she continued. "I mean it, Dad. Thinking today will be the only time I ever get to experience you this way is depressing. "I mean, the Daddy and Little Girl talk is a real turn on. I've always wanted to try that and the only time I brought it up, the guy freaked. "And I loved" - she gave me a big smack of a kiss on my cheek - "being your baby while you took care of me when I hurt my foot. That was so sweet, Daddy." Again, she nuzzled my cheek with hers, holding the contact before continuing. "But take away the Daddy talk, and the forbidden taboo of the young daughter seducing her horny father," I felt her breath, then lips, then tongue tease my earlobe. "And you still fuck me so goddamn good!" It didn't know what to say. Yes, it made me feel pride. It excited me to hear my daughter talk that way. Especially with my cock and my cum still inside her, naked beneath me. "But poor Mom." My glowing bubble of satisfaction burst at her words. "For her, she was your Little Baby Girl. You were her Daddy. It wasn't just role play for her and you know it." I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. I nodded in agreement against my daughter's head. "I didn't mean to, but I took that away from her. You've helped show me that, Sweetie." I could hear and feel the tightness in my throat as I spoke. I struggled to hold back a sob. I had blamed my wife for so many things, and thought I was innocent. I had ignored her needs, denied her identity. I had replaced her with our daughter. I had driven her to being a mean, cruel shell of herself. And I had patted myself on the back doing it. Thought I was doing the right thing, being the good father and husband. The virtuous one. Staying with the crazy bitch for the sake of my delusions of family. If what Christi said was true, and it made total sense, I had created the crazy bitch. And I had been the cause of Christi being sent away. That was the thought that released the dam. I sobbed, inhaling a deep forlorn breath to sob again. The tears flowed. Christi held me. I had hurt my daughter and my wife so much, while feeling like the victim. I knew Priscilla still had responsibilities in what happened. She was a smart, capable woman above and beyond her desire to be babied at home. She was responsible for her horrible responses to the situation. But I mourned for my mistakes and the ways I had tormented my loved ones in ignorance. --- I was calmed down, relaxed when Christi peeled herself off me and the bed. I watched her sweet naked body, those full swinging breasts, before I heard the sound of her pee followed by running water. She returned to the bedside fastening her jeans. Topless, faded denim hugging her hips, framing her soft, smooth belly, my daughter was a vision of womanhood. She moved to my closet, examined the contents, picked a light blue button down shirt. Too big, it still looked great on her, made her feel even more mine. She leaned down for a soft, lingering kiss, then stood. "Merry Christmas, Daddy. It's time for me to visit Mom." "Wait! What?" I sputtered at her as she reached the door. Christi put a hand up to silence me. "Trust me, Dad. Unless you hear some serious screams for help, or gunshots, leave us alone. Understood?" No. I did not understand. But I nodded, deciding to trust my daughter in this, since I had already been so wrong about so much. Her final instructions came through the doorway she had just emptied. "Enjoy yourself, Pops. This might take a while, but I will return for the rest of my present before the day is over. " I waited as long as I could - maybe five minutes - before rolling out of bed and padding to the kitchen. To the double wet of doors that separated me from the other half of the duplex, Priscilla's share of the sloping, split-level property. I leaned my ear close. My wife was screaming. A steady stream of accusations I could almost recite even with most of the words muffled to unintelligibility by the doors and distance. That meant Christi was still alive and, based on Priscilla's tone, not in imminent danger of anything beyond the verbal. Trust her. Trusting her would be easier if I stopped eavesdropping. I decided to pick up where I'd left off yesterday, when I thought I had the place and day to myself. I rolled another joint and headed to the hot tub on the desk outside my bedroom. This time, there was no broken glass, no blood, no bikini-clad young distraction. The smoke helped make it hard to concentrate too much on what might be happening in the other unit. My two Baby Girls. Why did it take my child to show me how little I knew about my own ruin of a marriage? Priscilla had been so happy, those big beautiful joyful eyes looking up me. I had felt needed, important, loved keeping her pampered and coddled. When she grew unhappy, when those eyes hadn't looked at me with that joy in them any more, why hadn't I seen it, known to do what had always made her so happy before? It hit me then. Like the last pieces of a puzzle falling into place, revealing a picture glimpsed previously but not recognized. Priscilla had always wanted to be babied, it was true. At home. In public, she has always been so organized, confident, in control. Her parents were flighty, at best. Her father had been a bipolar con man, able to shmooze investors into cockamamie schemes one day, unable to stop crying or leave the house on another. We had paid off the last of the refinance debt that covered his mistakes only last year, almost two decades after his death. The woman he had married, Priscilla's mother, seemed to care for nothing beyond her orchids and her happy little dogs. As a teen, it was Priscilla who balanced the bank accounts, for home and the struggling dealership, and made sure the bills were paid. She made sure there was food on the table and clean clothes for school, setting money aside for the lean times she had come to expect. I gave the adult Priscilla room to finally be a child, parented and cared for, and then I took that treasure away and gave it to another. I betrayed her. Twice, I crept close to the double doors and leaned my ear against mine. Nothing. Late afternoon, I tried again. Laughter. They were laughing. Both of them. I tried to remember the last time I had heard Priscilla's real laugh, walked away from the doors blinking back tears, my throat tight. I went to bed early, anxious but tired. --- "Daddy?" Christi's earthy smell filled my nose in the dark, but the soft hair stroking my cheek brought me traces of her mother's sweeter scent too. She kissed my jaw, flicked her tongue along the ridge there. "Daddy. Christmas isn't over yet. Is it okay if your little baby girl sucks your big fat cock?" I groaned, half asleep, my hips humping up into the blankets in reflex. "Yes, baby." "And is it okay if she needs to have you inside her again, if sucking your fat hard cock makes her little pussy wet and hungry?" I growled, the animal inside me now fully awake even as my sleepy brain struggled through fog. "Yes, baby girl." The covers slipped off my upper body, exposing me to the thighs. Then warm, almost hot lips found me. They sucked, hummed as a tongue swirled inside them, over my soft-swollen head. Christi's arms wrapped around my chest, her kisses light under my ear. My eyes popped open wide. Her arms tightened, holding me as my body stiffened. "Shh. It's okay, Daddy. Trust me. Please, for me, for our family." I relaxed into my daughter's arms, I surrendered, and her mother, my wife, my original Baby Girl, sucked my cock deep. First, deep on the back of her tongue, massaging me. Then deeper, moaning in that familiar, unforgettable way when her throat allowed me to ease in. My arms, my chest, my belly tensed again in Christi's arms, as she kissed and licked at my neck, her hands roaming more over my body, her whispers in my ear, as Priscilla's sounds and pace increased, fucking me with her mouth and throat. My daughter's hand slid lower until fingers wrapped around my base at the very root, pushing her mother's mouth back. The sucking didn't slow. Her lips vibrated my ear when she spoke. "Fuck, Daddy. You're hard. Really hard. Daddy likes his baby girl's slutty mouth." She pushed herself upright, keeping her grip on my shaft. "Does sucking Daddy's cock make my slutty little sister all wet and horny?" "Aaayyee!" The mouth was gone. Priscilla abandoned my cock with her sudden shocked cry. As if they expected the opportunity, Christi's fingers worked up and over my slick sensitive head, drawing a sharper moan from me. Her voice grinned in the dark. "You are! Little slutty sister is soaked for our Daddy's cock." "Please. Aaaye! Please." Priscilla begging cries, our daughter's stroking fingers, a roaring fire behind my eyes. "Baby Girl." I rasped the words out. "Climb up your Daddy. Quick now." Slim legs straddled me while Christi's hand continued to fondle me. Then the hand guided my head along a soaked, hot slit. Priscilla's moan came from above me in the dark, filled with emotion. Lips opened enough for our daughter to guide me inside, for our daughter to guide our family back together. Old wounds would need care and time to heal. I had no idea what Christi had told or promised her mother. But I had my family, I had my daughter, my wife, my bestest baby girls, together and with me. Chisti had given me a second chance, to make things right, for me and mine. I had never had a greater Christmas gift.