It was deep inside me now. I could feel it moving against places that had never before felt the touch of hard cock. It felt warm inside the come-dampened recess of my cunt. Each thrust and retreat made it feel warmer still. And the thrusts were coming faster.
He was breathing heavily against my throat, and I could feel his hand tighten around my tit each time he drove his cock into me. As his hips swung upward and his cock withdrew, the hand on my tit would relax. His belly was hard as it slapped against the softness of mine. I put my hands in the small of his back, giving myself more leverage to lift myself and meet his strokes. He suddenly threw his head back and I felt the full pressure of his cock rubbing across my clitoris as he bucked and heaved between my legs.
That sensuous friction across my already pulsing clitoris sent me into another of those dizzying spins that caused me to claw at his back with my nails as I thrashed beneath him, blind with orgasm. He strained hard above me, pressing himself into the moving wetness of my cunt with all his strength, and then he, too, was coming. It ended too soon.
"We forgot all about the vibrator," I said later, as we lay naked beside each other, lazily watching the blue smoke from the cigarette we were sharing curl upward toward the ceiling. Our bodies were barely touching. His hand rested on my belly.
"I didn't forget. I just knew that if you got me any hornier, I'd be climbing the wall," he said chuckling. He turned on his side, so he was looking into my eyes. "You know what'll happen to me if we let anyone know about this, don't you?"
I nodded my head, and he said, "I'm a bastard for doing it. A real bastard. But I just kept thinking about it and thinking about it. And Faye was asleep..."
"Shhh!" I touched his lips with my finger. "I wanted you to do what you did. I want you to keep on doing it. And nobody will ever know." I laughed as I thought of something. "And it's called fucking, not doing it. Remember that!"
That puzzled him until I laughed again and explained it.
While the cigarette slowly turned to ashes, we talked. He seemed somehow ashamed of what he'd done, and frightened, and I tried to make him see that what we'd done was right, that it was what I'd wanted for as long as I could remember, and that I'd never been happier in my life. As he lit and smoked another cigarette, he told me that he thought Faye might be right, that maybe he was some kind of pervert because he liked it best when he was doing it in some way that was different from the way others lucked. When he said that, and added that that might be the reason he'd come to bed with me, I felt so sorry for him I wanted to cry. And I hated that bitch Faye more than ever.
"Don't ever say that again," I said, kissing him and pressing the full length of my naked body against his. "Fuck Faye! Fuck what she says! You're no pervert. But if you are, I'm even worse," I put my hand on his cock, "because I want you to fuck me again."
He did.
As I teased at his cock with my fingers, feeling it slowly regain its hardness, he leaned over to snuff the cigarette in the ashtray beside the bed. He put his arms around me as I rolled on top of him. I felt his cock against my belly. His hands went to the cheeks of my ass, then slipped down the backs of my widespread legs.
Kissing him hard on the mouth, I slipped my hand between us and put his cock where it belonged. It slipped easily into the come-drenched slit of my cunt.
We began to fuck.
I set the pace of our movements, letting my hips roll in slow undulations, moving my shoulders from side to side so that my tits swayed above him, the stiff little nipples dragging across his chest; and he caressed the cheeks of my ass with his hands, gently, just running his fingers over the velvety orbs. My ass fit nicely into his hands... and his cock fit well into me.
It was a different feeling, this fucking with me on the top. It allowed me to enjoy all the sensual pleasure of contact with his body. The feel of his hips lifting between my legs. The touch of his pubic hair against my belly. The probing of his tongue into my mouth. The growing sensations inside my cunt. My hips began lifting higher onto his cock, falling back with more force.
"Look at that... look at yourself fuck," he said, and he suddenly put his hands under my shoulders and lifted me. I bent one knee, raising myself slightly, and I looked down across my body. Through the valley between my dangling tits, I could see the thick root of his cock where it was swallowed up by my lower body, the dark hair of his pubis, but that was all. From his viewpoint, I suppose, he was probably able to see the lips of my cunt, the way they moved as we lucked. The thought was somehow exciting.
The new position forced me to move my pelvis in shorter, choppier strokes that were no less exciting than the longer, slower ones had been. They were better, if anything. I looked down at his flushed face, saw that he was intently staring at the place where our bodies joined, and I looked down there, too.
It was easy to pretend I could see it all.
The pink lips of my cunt would be opening and closing as they sought to cling to the hard staff of his prick. That staff would glisten wetly with the oils of fucking. I saw it all in my mind...
It was just like the dreams I'd dreamed when I was screwing myself with the vibrator. The vision was as clear as if I'd been a third person, a stranger, standing beside the bed and watching the two of us fuck.
And it sent me into a flurry of passionate thrashing that drove me into orgasm after orgasm and lasted until long after he had slammed his cock hard into me for the last time, released his come inside me, and gone soft between my legs.
Faye's love for the bottle made it easy for us to get together, and the eagerness with which I learned to do the things he liked — all the things he liked — made it easier for my father to accept. It really turned him on when he saw that I actually liked them.
But the bit with the vibe was my favorite, because that was the one that brought him from Faye to me. And now, as I looked at the silent plastic cylinder, I knew that she'd never get him back.
"Never!"
So from incestuous fantasy and the desire to compete for affection, both of which are a basic part of human nature, Wanda advanced to actual commission of the act, and into a continuing affair which threatens disaster.
This case is an example of incest initiated at the want of the daughter, spurred onward by both love and hatred, the two most violent emotions. Hate, just like love, is a pathway to incest.
Chapter Five
If you've got the name...
It took me a long time to figure out. But once I had it all thought out and straight in my mind, it didn't take me too long to see that I'd come across the one chance I was ever going to have to get back at Pa for all the whippings he'd given me just for breakin' down that one time and lettin' myself do the same thing he was hankerin' for. It was going to feel good, seeing the mean old bastard crawl like a whipped pup. Real good. I stared right into his hungrin' eyes as I leaned back against the tool shelf that was built against the wall of the barn. As I began to undo the buttons at the top of my thin cotton dress, he stood just inside the doorway, shuffling from one foot to the other.
"You come for your sample of what everybody in town's been a-gettin' didn't you," I said, with all the pure spite I could put into my voice. "So don't just stand there and try to make like you didn't. If you want it, come out like a man and ask for it. Less you ain't got the balls..." I just smiled and didn't finish the sentence. He'd ask. I knew he'd ask. That's why he was here.
"You little whore of the devil," he said. His face was in shadow now, but I knew he was staring hard at the open front of my dress. It was like his flat little eyes were burning the white jugs I'd half, bared... I undid another button and the dress was open to my waist.