I can't believe it was only five years ago. It seems longer.
I've done a lot of living and a lot of growing, physically
and emotionally, in the past five years. As I write these
words in my dormitory room at Northwestern University where
I'm an Economics major, my thoughts drift back to that Kansas
City summer after I graduated. It was the first time I tried
to get my father to have sexual intercourse with me. My father
owns and operates a Kansas City steak house that I'll call the
Golden Steer, in case what I'm about to tell about Daddy and me
would hurt business if I used the restaurant's real name. For a
guy who started as a short order cook, Daddy has done well. In
return for the long hours he puts in at the restaurant, he earns
a high enough income that we not only have a home in the
exclusive County Club district of Kansas City, but we own a
summer house on Prairie Lee Lade as well. Daddy also buys a new
Cadillac every other year.
The summer I turned older my Mom had been dead only a year. We lost
her to leukemia. I took Mom's passing hard, of course, but Daddy
seemed to take it even harder. He was a lot quieter than he used
to be, and I rarely saw that big, boyish grin of his any more.
The first scene that stands out vividly in my memory took place
the evening of the day after my fourteenth birthday. Daddy and I
were sitting in the twilight on the sundeck of the lake house.
Nobody else around. Crickets chirping, Daddy leafing through
the Kansas City Star in the fading light, me just sitting there
watching the sun go down and the moon come up.
All of a sudden, Daddy laid his paper aside. He looked at me
for a long moment. Then he said, "You're a pretty girl,
Melanie." The compliment pleased me. It was the first time
my father had ever told me straight out that I was pretty. Not
that I was unaware of having been blessed with passably good
looks. All my girlfriends told me they envied my naturally
curly blonde hair. And the boys were beginning to take notice
of my developing figure. My delight at my father's compliment
faded as he stared at me intently. "What's the matter, Daddy?"
I asked.
"
Melanie, I think it's time we had a little talk, " he began. "I
know you've been learning the basic facts of life at school, but
uh...ah..." He broke off in embarrassment, muttering something
about how he wished my mother was there to handle the situation.
At last, he tried again. "Let me put it this way, " he said.
"With the way you're maturing, it won't be long before you're
going to have to cope with, uh, sexual advances from boys."
Little did Daddy know. As he launched into a lecture on the
virtues of chastity as opposed to promiscuity, I thought
naughtily of the sexual advances I was already getting from
boys. There were the furtive pinches in hallway crowds at
school that had been unknown before my figure started filling
out. There were also verbal advances from fresh boys like
Jimmy Fenwick, who'd told me he'd like to kiss me between my
legs. While I wasn't about to let Jimmy do any such thing, his
imagery did hold a certain fascination for me.
Although I paid only halfway attention to Daddy's anti-sex
lecture, that evening left a vivid impression on me nevertheless.
The impression was caused mostly by the look on my father's face
as he stared at me while telling me I was pretty. I thought a
lot about that look afterward. I decided that although I must
be mistaken, it sure had resembled a look of sexual desire.
About two weeks after the session on the sundeck, I was lying in
bed masturbating before retiring for the night. A fantasy man
hovered over me, his buttocks churning between my thighs as he
thrust his thick cock in and out, in and out of my pubescent
vagina. My masturbatory lover had no face, no name, was more
shadow than substance, but he had helped me get myself off
scores of times in the years since I'd begun playing with myself.
Suddenly, I heard a key turn in the downstairs door. The door
squeaked open. That would be Daddy coming home from the
restaurant. I stepped up the tempo of my fingering of my
clitoris in hopes of having my orgasm before Daddy looked in for
his usual goodnight kiss. However, I hadn't quite come when he
stuck his head in the door.
"You awake, Melaine?" Daddy asked softly.
"Yes, " I murmured as I teetered on the brink of orgasm. I
stopped diddling myself under the sheets as he came over to
plant a kiss on my forehead.
When he bent over me, I noticed that my father's silhouette bore
a marked resemblance to that of my fantasy lover.
I don't know what came over me then. It wasn't something I'd
ever consciously plan to do. But as Daddy placed his lips on
my forehead, I grasped him by the ears and pulled his head down
to where I was able to kiss him passionately on the mouth. It
was a short kiss because Daddy jerked back when he realized what
was happening. But in the second or two that our mouths were
joined, I slipped my hot tongue between his teeth where it joined
with his tongue that was equally hot, if not hotter.
"Don't ever do that again, Melanie, " was all Daddy said in a
shaken voice as he left the room.
After the foregoing frustration, I laid off Daddy sexually for
two whole years. Meanwhile, I denied myself other boys and men.
I never consciously articulated to myself that I was saving my
virginity for Daddy, but in fact that's what I was doing.
To say I was saving my virginity for Daddy doesn't mean I didn't
pet with boys from time to time as a break in the monotony of my
masturbation routine. I remember the time a neighbor boy named
Henry Perkins took me to a drive-in movie over in Leawook.
Having just gotten his driver's license, it was his first time
to operate an automobile legally. He was touchingly proud and
careful at the wheel of his father's Buick as we drove to the
movie. A nice boy, Henry was. Because of his niceness and my
horniness, I decided to stage a first-time event on my own. I
decided to suck his cock.
We got to the drive-in. The movie was a horror show whose title,
stars and story I've long since forgotten. Henry and I fell to
necking in the front seat of the Buick. We progressed through
the customary steps of petting. Plain kissing. Open-mouthed
kissing. His hands on my covered breasts, followed by ditto on
my bared boobies. Finally, and usually the end of the line for
me, his hand on my covered vagina. But it wasn't the end of the
line. As Henry kneaded my pussy lips through my panties, I blew
his mind by unzippering his fly and pulling out his erection.
Since it was the first penis I'd ever held in my hand, I examined
it curiously in the dim light. Then, to the tune of Henry's
whimper of pleasure, I went down on him. I sucked and nibbled
and bobbed my head, maybe not very expertly, but very much to
the gratification of my partner, who, because of his youth, had
no basis for comparing cocksuckers.
Henry came quickly. Whereas I'd been apprehensive about how
semen might taste, my fears proved unfounded. Male come turned
out to be a bland-tasting substance that I swallowed down easily.
The sex experience with Henry was one of the few that I shared
with boys during my sophomore and junior years of high school.
As I said, I didn't go all the way with anyone. Mostly, I
masturbated to fantasies of getting it on with dear old Daddy.
It finally happened the summer before graduation when Daddy had
to fly to New York City to attend a convention of restauranteurs,
he invited me to go along. It was my first visit to New York and
I fell in love with the Big Apple. Daddy spared no expense in
squiring me around to such restaurants as Sardi's, Four Seasons,
and Top of the Sixes. We saw Broadway shows like Annie, Evita,
and Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. I was having the time of
my life.
On our last evening in New York, Daddy and I enjoyed dinner and a
floor show at the Village Gate in Greenwich Village. On the cab
ride back to the hotel, I knew from the extra jolly way he was
jabbering that my father was high on the Jack Daniels on the
rocks he'd been drinking all night. A naughty notion crept into
my mind (not to mention up my loins) that this might be the time
and place to make another attempt to seduce Daddy.
At the hotel, Daddy and I said good night to each other in the
hall before retiring to our separate rooms. The rooms were
separate, that is, but adjoining. There was a connecting door
which neither of us ever locked.
I undressed and waited, getting more and more excited with
fantasies of the consummation that I hoped was finally about to
happen. Periodically, I pressed an ear to Daddy's door, waiting
for the sound of his snoring. At last, I heard it. I switched
off my lamp.
Stealthily, I turned the knob to open the door to Daddy's room.
I was completely naked. As I crept toward his bed, the only
light in the room came from a neon light that flashed on and off
overlooking Times Square, half a block away. The silence, except
for Daddy's snoring, was deafening.
Slowly, very carefully, I lifted the bed covers. Daddy, too, was
naked. I slipped under the covers beside him. The next move -
touching Daddy - would be the trickiest. If I woke him before I
was able to get him sexually turned on, there was every
likelihood he'd kick my incestuous little butt not only out of
the room and down the stairs, but around the block as well. I
decided my best tactic would be to go directly to the heart of
the matter, by which I meant to lay hands not on Daddy's heart
but on his genitals.
Daddy lay on his back, I on my side facing him. Ever so
gingerly, I slid my hand toward him until I made contact with
his hip. From there, I slid the hand quickly to his crotch
where I seized his cock and balls in a gentle grasp. That was
all. No Squeezing yet. I just held him in my hand.
Daddy's snoring faltered momentarily at my touch. He snorted
and swallowed a couple of times before reverting to the steady
cadence of snores he'd been emitting before.
I thrilled to the feel of the virile male organ I held in my
hand. My Daddy's cock. Even flaccid, it was a big one. I'd
always known it would be. But, even more than big, it was
somehow more manly than the adolescent penises I had seen,
touched, or, in Henry Perkins' case, sucked. Oh, how I wanted
this lovely prick inside me!
What was happening? Was Daddy getting hard? Yes! Slowly but
surely, the meaty shaft I held between my thumb and forefinger
was swelling larger. It was time to help the erecting process
along. Very gently, I began milking his awakening organ. The
tempo of Daddy's snoring quickened a beat as I did so.
Daddy began talking in his sleep. "Mmmm, Jennifer. Feels good,
so good, Jennifer, " he murmured.
Jennifer? That wasn't my mother's name. Why, that rascal. Had
he taken a lover on the side while he was married to Mom? Just
for that, I was going to have to punish him. The punishment I
devised? What else, in my horny state? I decided to sit on his
cock.
I guided the head of Daddy's erection into contact with the rose
petal lips of my vagina. I was so hot, I was dripping wet down
there. We'd have no problem with insufficient lubrication.
Taking a deep breath, I plunged, swallowing up all of my father's
cock with my cunt in one dizzying stroke. As we plummeted to the
most intimate union a man and woman can share, an involuntary cry
of pleasure/pain escaped my lips. Daddy's simultaneous groan was
all pleasure, no pain.
I commenced fucking him up and down, up and down. Having a penis
inside me for the first time in my life - my father's penis, no
less - was a more wondrous sensation than any I'd ever known.
Daddy began to participate in our fuck. Even though his eyes
remained closed in the flickering light, he seized my buttocks
in powerful hands. Arching his pelvis, he began meeting my
thrust with thrust of his own. As I had yearned for and dreamed
about for years, my Daddy was fucking me!
"Oh, Jennifer, Jennifer, " he murmured as his eyes fluttered open.
Then, "Oh...my God! MELANIE!"
Recognizing me, Daddy tried to pull out and push me off. I was
ready for that. Clutching him tightly around his neck with my
arms, and around his legs with my legs, I pleaded in his ear,
"Wait, Daddy, think a minute. It's too late not to commit
incest. We're already doing it. Think, Daddy. It feels good,
doesn't it?"
His voice was choked. "Melanie, you're strangling me.. . Yes,
dammit, it feels good. And yes, dammit, I've wanted to fuck you
for years. But, Angel Baby, what is this going to do to you?
Won't it scar you emotionally?
He couldn't see it with our cheeks pressed together, but I had
to smile at Daddy's old-fashioned ideas. Scar me emotionally?
How could that be when I was literally having the best time of
my life? "No Daddy, it won't scar me, " I said in his ear. "I
just wanted to love you in the way because I love you every
other way. What can be unnatural about that?"
"God, Maybe you're right, " Daddy allowed, swayed no doubt by the
mutually thrilling way I'd resumed my pumping on his hard penis.
"I'm more mixed up than any teenager right now, but yes Melanie,
it's good, very good."
With that, Daddy and I proceeded to share a profoundly wonderful
sexual experience. Our incestuous love affair continued for more
than two years until we parted when I went away to college last
September. The only reason we haven't continued to get it on
sexually when I go home for vacations is that I've found a steady
boyfriend here at Northwestern, and Daddy has become involved
with a woman back in Kansas City. Neither of us feels we were
hurt in any way by our incestuous affair. Far from it. We feel
we're decent people who added a meaningful new dimension to our
relationship. We feel it's something that could happen to any
father and daughter, mother and son or brother and sister if
they'd let it.