Incest
2005-08-10

I got off the plane at the airport and began searching for the young lady that was to pick me up. I had made this trip to attend the fortieth reunion of my high school class and was told that a young member of the reunion committee would meet me at the airport and take me to a hotel. I looked around and soon saw an attractive young lady about thirty five or so and dressed in the clothing she had described to me over the phone. I walked up to her and said, “Becky?” She smiled and called me by my last name and made an attempt to take my luggage. I told her I was fine and the bag was equipped with wheels. She did take my laptop bag and put the strap over her shoulder as we walked. She began to walk ahead of me a little and I could see her hips swaying as she walked. I also had gotten a whiff of her perfume as she stood by me and the two combined to stir a feeling that wasn’t too common as I grew older. I was glad she was walking ahead of me and didn’t observe the erection that was beginning. I quickly looked away from her well formed rear and just focused off into space ahead of her.
 
That tactic seemed to work, as my erection died off and the front of my trousers resumed their normal appearance. We walked out of the front door of the terminal and towards the waiting shuttle bus. It would take us to the parking area and her car. As we boarded the bus, I should have remembered the old practice of the men going up steps first to avoid the lady being embarrassed. I watched as she climbed the step up into the shuttle. As she stepped up, her short skirt rode up enough to see the dark lace at the top of her stockings.

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   I though to myself that at least she wasn’t wearing those hated pantyhose. I climbed up into the bus and took a seat beside her for the short ride to the car. I thought that if I kept busy in conversation, I could avoid having another embarrassing moment. We talked about the changes in the area since I was a youngster. She asked when the last time was that I saw my home town. I told her it had been about four years since I came home to attend my mother’s funeral. I told I couldn’t believe how much the are had changed since I was a boy. The mills had all shut down when we started importing cheap steel from the Japanese. She then told me that it had gotten much worse and that I would see a lot of closed up stores in the downtown area. She unlocked the passenger door and then walked around to unlock her trunk. I put the suitcase inside and shut the lid as she went for her door. I opened mine and started to slide in and she did the same. As she slid into the driver’s seat, her skirt rode up and I could plainly see her black lace panties. I also reinforced my thinking of earlier at the bus that she was wearing stockings instead of pantyhose. They were the type with elastic lace tops that didn’t need a garter belt.

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   Those were the prettiest legs I had seen in a long time. After starting her car and adjusting her seatbelt, she reached down and pulled her skirt down to where it was covering her. A sly hint of a smile was on her face as she put the car in reverse and backed out of the space. We drove to the gate, where Becky handed the attendant her validated ticket and then smoothly pulled out onto the highway. As we drove, I could see her beautiful legs moving from pedal to pedal as she shifted gears. Each time she lifted her left leg to work the clutch, her skirt moved ever so slightly upwards.
 
Becky struck up a conversation, asking if I was married and if so where was my wife. I explained that my wife had died only last year of cancer and I was staying with a daughter. She then asked how old my daughter was and I answered that she was thirty five years old and the mother of two boys. Becky smiled and said she was thirty eight and had married but her husband had been killed in a hunting accident almost twenty years ago. They had only been married a year when he had fallen into an abandoned mine vent shaft that was concealed by some bushes. She then told me that she had never remarried, choosing to move back in with her parents and help take care of her father. He had been shot in Viet Nam and was paralyzed. She now had her parent’s house as her father had passed away and Mom was in a nursing home. She added that sometimes the house seemed almost too big for her.

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Becky turned the car into the parking lot of the motel and stopped near the door. She unlocked the trunk and let me get my luggage out. She again grabbed my laptop case and we walked in the door to the desk. I gave the clerk my name and he looked through his reservation lists and informed me that he had no reservations for me. I showed him my confirmation slip and he said that he was sorry but there were no empty rooms and the same was true in the other motels, because of two reunions in town at the same time, as well as a convention for one of the churches. He apologized but that still didn’t get me a room. Becky suggested that I stay at her house, since she had plenty of room. I started to say no, but she insisted, so I walked back out to her car and we put the luggage back into the trunk. Noticing that it was dinnertime, I offered to at least buy  her dinner in repayment for her hospitality. She agreed and soon we were walking in the door of a very nice Italian restaurant. I ordered a table for two and was escorted back to the corner booth by the greeter. Becky and I sat down and waited for the waitress to bring menus and take our drink orders. I entered into a dialog of small talk, trying to keep my mind off those legs. We discussed the reunion and the declining economy of the area. She told me that she had a good position as a paralegal and was going to stay in the town as long as there was a town to stay in.

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   Becky asked to be excused to go to the ladies room and slid gracefully out of the booth. She asked that I order her a coffee if the waitress came while she was gone. No sooner than she had gone from sight, the waitress came and asked for our drink orders and left two very attractive leather bound menus. I opened mine and could hardly believe the low prices of  the meals. I  looked over the choices until Becky came back from the restroom. I sat quietly while Becky glanced over the menu and told me the lasagna was to die for here. I told her the choice was decided then and we would both have it. We slowly sipped the coffee that the waitress had brought and again just chatted while we waited for the waitress. It was no time at all until she came to take our orders. I told the waitress that we both would have the lasagna, to which she asked if we would like a glass of wine.

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Noting the look on Becky’s face at the suggestion of wine, I ordered a couple of glasses of a nice red wine. We went back to chatting as we waited to be served our meals.
 
Our meals were soon brought to us and we ate our fill. It had been a long time since I had eaten a good Italian meal cooked in the Sicilian tradition. After the meal we declined the waitress’ offer of a desert, but let her bring us fresh coffee.

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   We again chatted, Becky telling me of her life since her own days in school. After her husband died, she went back to school, majoring in law. She had taken a job in a law firm as a clerk but soon found herself studying to become a paralegal. During the conversation, she mentioned that her maiden name was Hunter. I gave it no thought and went on with our conversation. The waitress came by our booth and left our check, to which I gave the waitress my American Express Card. She disappeared to the front of the restaurant and quickly came back with my card and a copy of the bill for me to sign. Becky and I both slid out of the booth and after leaving a generous tip, I followed Becky out of the restaurant.
 
We got back into her car and buckled up. She thanked me for dinner and told me that breakfast was on her. We drove the rest of the way to her house and turned into the driveway. She parked in the carport and opened the front door of the house, reaching inside to turn on the light. I followed her into the living room and waited while she turned on a light in the hall. She told me to bring my luggage back to a spare bedroom. I wheeled the suitcase back the hall and into the room.

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   I slipped out of my suit coat and hung it in the closet. She told me to go in and turn on the TV while she got a little more comfortable.
 
I walked into the living room and sat on the big leather couch. I saw the TV remote on the coffee table and turned the set on. It was set on Showtime and there was a very revealing movie on. I was used to watching even XXX rated movies, but not with a strange woman young enough to be my daughter. Just as I reached to change the channel, Becky came into the room and said that she had wanted to see that movie and would I mind if we watched it. I looked up at her and got a real surprise. She was dressed in a large pajama top and nothing else. I could see also that she had removed the stockings and wondered about the black lace panties. It wasn’t long till I was convinced she had removed them also. As she crossed the room, I couldn’t see the outline or shadow of any underwear beneath the thin top. She came over and sat beside me, curling her legs back under her. The front of the top was unbuttoned at the very bottom and her legs were showing to within a few inches of her womanhood. I tried to keep my eyes from looking down but was loosing the battle.

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   As I looked downward, she moved and confirmed my earlier conclusions. She was nude beneath the top and her neatly trimmed bush was very much in view. Becky made no attempt to cover herself and was actually moving so that she was revealed even more. Without a word, she leaned over and gave me a soft, wet sensuous kiss on the mouth. Her arms were on my chest and I felt her tongue probing my mouth. I responded by feeling her firm breasts through the thin top. They were a lot firmer than I expected for a woman her age and the nipples were hard as rocks. She reached up without a word and began to slowly unbutton her top, revealing the most beautiful pair of breasts I had seen in many years. I looked down at her pussy and saw that it was beginning to get wet. Her legs were positioned so that I could see her very well. She pulled the top back off her shoulders and tossed it over the coffee table. She straddled my legs and began to unbuckle my belt, then slowly unzipped me. She moved and told me to raise my hips while she pulled my trousers and shorts down and let them fall to the floor. She again sat with her legs curled under her and began to slowly stroke my hard cock. She leaned down and put her lips on my cock and sucked it into her mouth.

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   I was almost ready to blow my load when she told me to lay flat on the couch. I moved until I was flat on my back with my cock standing upright like a flagpole. She turned till she was facing my feet and began to straddle my body. As she leaned down to resume sucking my cock, she slid back until her pussy was inches from my mouth. I held her by the hips and began to lick her wet slit. She moaned softly and slid back even further. I sank my tongue deep into her pussy, tasting her sweet juices. I then probed with my tongue until I found her clit, which was hard and exposed so I could suck it. She began to rock her hips and ride my tongue harder and faster, sucking my cock as she did. It had been so long since I had been in bed with a woman, I was ready to cumm sooner than I wanted to.   A few more strokes on my cock with her tongue wrapping my cock as she sucked and I felt the cumm boiling up from my balls. She sensed I was ready to cumm and sucked faster and rode my face and tongue faster and faster. I suddenly felt my load blasting into her mouth. At the same time, she cried out and began to orgasm. She sucked my cock and swallowed every drop as her orgasm peaked.

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   I could taste her cumm juice and sucked on her pussy to get every drop. She finally collapsed on me and lay resting as she tried to get her breathing back to normal. After a few minutes she leaned over and turned off the TV and suggested we go into her bedroom where there was a lot more room. I followed her down the hall after she switched off the light in the living room. She turned and stepped into her bedroom, pulling me behind her with her warm hand. She had the covers turned back before we even entered the room and led me to the huge king sized bed. She got on the bed and moved over, patting the bed with her hand to invite me to join her. In  the dim light of the night light just outside her door, I could see her naked body, her chest still heaving slightly from her intense orgasm. I lay beside her and put a hand on one of her breasts and began to roll the nipple between my fingers. She arched her back to encourage me to continue. I leaned over her and kissed the erect nipple and flicking my tongue on it. She pulled my head closer and told me to suck her tits. My hand began to explore the closely trimmed bush of fine hair covering her pussy.

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Her legs parted to give me greater access to her wet slit. I started to bend down and lick her pussy, hoping to get her to suck on my cock as I did.

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   She pulled me back up and said she wanted me to fuck her hot pussy. Being the gentleman I was, I wanted to please the lady and climbed over to a position over her. I slowly dragged my hard cock up and down her flat belly and poked it at her pubic mound. Her legs immediately parted to allow me to gain entrance. I rubbed the head of my stiff cock on her wet slit and felt her lips relaxing. My cock immediately sank deep into her tunnel. I was surprised at how tight she was. Her tight pussy was like a vise, holding on to my cock as I took each stroke. I began slow, fucking her tight pussy with slow, deliberate strokes. After a few minutes, I was increasing the speed and power of my thrusting, trying to match her writhing beneath me. Her hips were lifting me with each powerful grind of her hips. Her legs had locked around my waist and were holding me close as we fucked. After the excellent blow job she had given me in the living room, I was able to go longer in her. I took hold of her legs from around my waist and played “make a wish” with them. That spread her wide open and allowed me to ram her until my balls slapped her ass each thrust.

 

   After a few minutes, she reached up and put her hands on my buttcheeks and pulled me close. She left out a cry of pure passion and began Cumming. . Her hips were jerking and she dug her nails into my ass as the convulsions peaked. Her actions put me over the edge and for a minute, we were both Cumming together. She was yelling out, “Yess, Yess!” at the top of her voice and then she surprised me by saying “Fuck me Daddy! Fuck me hard!”. I looked down into her face and saw a look of pure passion and pleasure. She had her eyes closed at that moment but then opened them as her orgasm passed and stared right into my eyes. She asked me if I knew a Kathy Snider from my high school days. I lay with my cock still buried in her tight pussy and Thought back. I told her that I did remember her and that we had a real thing going until I left for the service. Becky looked up at me and said, “ Well, I am the result of that real thing! I am your daughter and you just fucked me. . How does it feel to fuck your little girl? Was I as good as Mom? She said you popped her cherry and was the only boy she fucked till after she had me. ”  I looked down at her and saw what I took to be a look of distain in her eyes.

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   I pushed myself off to the side and sat up, expecting her to begin screaming or hitting me or something. I started to sit up and get dressed when she took my hand and told me that she had waited for years to do that with me. When she was a young girl, she had found a photo of me in a box of old stuff in the attic when I was playing. She had also  found some letters that I had written her mother, describing the act that resulted in Becky being born. I asked Becky to let me get to my wallet and I wanted to show her something. I picked up my trousers and pulled out my wallet and removed a small folded up piece of paper. I carefully unfolded the paper and flattened it out on the bed for her to read. It was a letter from her mother telling me that she missed me and loved me but not a mention of her pregnancy. I also pulled and old photo out of my wallet and handed it to her. It was her mother and me at our high school graduation. I had carried the photo and the letter all these long years in my wallet. I reached in and pulled another faded letter from my wallet and handed it to her. It was a Dear John letter, saying she had met someone else and wanted me to forget her. I told Becky that I had never forgotten her in those long years since she sent me that letter. I told him that Mom had moved to her grandma’s in Montana to have the baby and stayed out there for several years.

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   She had met a boy that had accepted Becky and things looked good for a future. That boy married her mother and then was drafted into the army for the war in Viet Nam. He had been killed there and her Mom had moved back to our little home town, hoping the people there would think the baby was his.
 
Becky Started to cry and put her arms around me, holding me tight. She said she had dreamed all these years about making love with me and now she was afraid I would never want to speak to her again. I sat holding Becky in my arms and tried sorting this all out in my head. A part of me was angry for her deception and part of me was still a Dad wanting to comfort his daughter. Another part of me was thinking of the great sex we had just had and wanting more. I asked Becky if her mom was still alive. She told me that she had passed away only a few months ago and she had left the house and everything to Becky.
 
Becky got up from the bed and wrapped a thin robe around her nakedness. She told me to stay put until she returned. She went to the dining room and opened a big roll top desk and took out an envelope. She paddled back to the bedroom and handed me the envelope. It was addressed to me and in Kathy’s handwriting.

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   I opened the envelope and took out a letter. I started reading.
 
The letter was dated several months before she died. It told me that she had written the Dear John to keep me from finding out that I had made her pregnant. It went on to tell me about the husband she lost in Nam and her struggle to support her and her daughter. The rest of the letter just went over the years since I had seen her. She did say that she moved back to our hometown when her father passed away, leaving the family home to her and that she had deeded the house over to Becky after she became ill.
 
By the time I finished reading the letter, My hands were shaking and tears were welling up in my eyes. I lay the letter on the nightstand and looked at Becky. She was sobbing quietly and raised her head up to look at me. She asked if I was mad at her for having sex with her knowing I was her real father. She added that it all started out of spite, but the evening we shared together just made her realize she loved me. She sold her house in our hometown and moved in with me. I have a nice little farm out in the country and we have a lot of privacy to do as we want. She has started to work as a paralegal in the town near our home and comes home in plenty of time for us to take care of the house and have time for some hot lovemaking.

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   I have since changed my will to leave her the farm and all the furniture when I’m gone. I have to admit that hearing her call me Daddy while we are making love keeps me going. I suppose some would call us perverted and sick but we don’t really care. When I see her getting dressed in the mornings for work and she stands naked in our room while she picks out her clothes, I  get aroused like I did years ago. She keeps her pubic hair shaved and her naked pussy is always ready for me. When she comes home at night, her panties are in her purse and she is always ready to fuck her Daddy!
 
 
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