Nothing is sicker than incest, I guess, but that's why it gets me so worked up.
I've been having sex with my son James for two years now. At 12-years-old, he can fuck me several times a night, if I let him stay up. And if I crawl into bed with my daughter, Lucy, still just 10, she immediately pushes down her pj's and spreads her skinny legs so I can lick her juicy little twat.
“I want to lick yours, too,” she recently started telling me. “Your cunt!”
Of course, I let her. And her older brother licks her juicy little twat now, too.
Much like me when I was much younger, Lucy looks like an innocent little angel, but she has multiple orgasms easily and often. It's all our own dirty little family secret. And she's become an extremely talented little cunt-licker herself. She can get me off with her mouth in record time.
And, yes, my dad's in on all of it, too, whenever he comes by. Sick, huh?
Anyway, as I've already said, I'm currently in therapy, but as far as my therapist's concerned it's just because I desperately crave sex (regular old straightforward sex) and want sex every minute of every day. It's not (to her knowledge) because of the incest, dog-fucking or looking for youthful lovers part. My therapist will never hear about those particularly depraved activities, not if I can help it.
For my sessions with her, I'm just your everyday, all around super-slut who cannot control herself when it comes to carnal fun.
My pussy's always wet, my asshole's always willing, my nipples and clit always triple-alert for sensation. I'll basically suck any hard cock anyone sticks in (or near) my mouth.
At our incest swinger's parties, I've 69'ed with very young girls while their fathers jacked off on us. At an incest party arranged over the Internet with a group from another city, I did a double-penetration with a father (in my pussy) and his preteen son (in my asshole) that got me so excited I pissed all over when we all came at exactly the same time.
We got a round of applause for it.
I'll do anything to achieve sexual pleasure. Anything.
I know I need to change, and I should want to change, but it feels too good having orgasms. And, basically, I just love sex. So I'm highly doubtful I ever will change.
Anyway, as I mentioned at the beginning: believe what you will.
Anyway, like I already said, each summer, beginning when I was 9-years-old, I traveled to see my father wherever he was working so we could spend some 'quality time' together.
That was the story my mom got.
But really, as you know, I was seriously into fucking with my dad, in any and all positions, my favorite thing in the whole wide world!
My favorite position, in fact, at many of the motels we frequented, was hanging onto the bottom edge of the headboard with both hands over my head and arching my skinny back with my knees spread wide while my dad simply fucked me like crazy.
Nothing complicated, just hanging on tightly with my small hands for the sake of stability, my bare little ass on two pillows for deeper penetration, and digging my heels into the bed for better traction.
Once, at a Roadside Inn when I was 11-years-old, I got so carried away I pulled the headboard off the wall and down on top of us! That was scary, but we ended up sliding off the bed together and finishing on the floor. My dad wanted to stop, to see if I was okay (it klonked me on the head), or at least put the headboard back on the wall, but I managed to get the full length of his slippery hard cock right back into my throbbing little slit in no time.
My small hands knew exactly what to do with his stiff dick, in just such an emergency. I was that close to coming, after all.
“Don't stop fucking me, Daddy! Please don't stop! Please!”
His thrusting dick felt so good in me, I wouldn't let my dad stop fucking me until we were both done! I ended up with minor carpet burns on my bare little ass from squirming around so much, but it was worth it.
And, like I expected, I came really hard that time!
Anyway, even though I didn't go to a private or a religious school, my father loved the idea of those sexy little school uniforms the girls always wore, so he bought me one. Just the bottom part, actually, the navy plaid skirt and navy knee socks and even the little patent leather shoes with the strap.
Whenever I wore it for him, I left off my panties and blouse, but added a band-aid on my knee and put pretty blue ribbons in my long brown hair.
He liked my bare little titties, too, even before I started wearing even a training bra. He'd kiss and suck on my tiny pink nipples until they were all pointy and poking out. Of course, I'd be breathing hard and trembling with anticipation by then-I knew my deliciously wet pussy was next!
And he loved my pussy even before I got any pubic hair on it.
I always got so sexually excited holding myself open for him with my fingers, showing him everything, squatting over him so my bald pussy and tight asshole were right over his face.
Also, even in those earliest days of first-time sex fun, my clitoris was always very prominent, and overly sensitive, sticking out beyond its little fleshy hood. Every time my dad ate me out in those days, he'd first lick all around it with his tongue. He always took a very long time and got very close to my clit, even spreading open the slick lips around it with his fingers, but never actually touched it until I was begging him.
It drove me wild!
Pretty soon, I'd be squirming around, panting hoarsely and almost crying I was so frustrated-and only then would he finally lick it or suck it directly.
“Please lick my clit, Daddy!” I'd urge. “Suck on it! Please!”
“Be patient,” he'd tell me.
Of course, as soon as my dad finally did lick my pulsating little clit, after getting me all worked up, I'd come instantly! Every time. And then a second time! Sometimes I'd come so good, little jets of pee would squirt out!
“You pissed again,” he'd laugh, as if it was a good thing. “Right in my face!”
“Because you made me come too good,” I always said, just the slightest bit embarrassed at such a thing. “You made me pee!”
Anyway, the other thing was: after the headboard incident, if my dad and I were in a motel room, we'd fuck on the floor so the bed wouldn't make so much squeaking noise (and so I wouldn't pull down another headboard!).
He'd put two pillows on the carpet under my narrow little ass, then get down on top of me between my bare legs and slowly push his thick cock into my very tight pussy. We both liked to go real slow at that point, an inch at a time going into me, until the thick, entire 7” length was buried in my underage pussy.
“Ohhhh God!” I'd moan as it went in. “Daddy, that feels so good going in my cunt-I can't wait for you to fuck me!”
He loved it when I talked dirty at that young age, the dirtier the better, and he'd also taught me all the right dirty words, as had Maureen, my babysitter, earlier.
“I love your big cock in my twat!” I'd tell him. “You can fuck my cunt all you want, or jack off in my mouth or lick my asshole or do whatever!”
Dirty talk from me always made his cock throb just a bit more urgently while it slid into me.
Once inside me, instead of just holding me down and fucking me flat, he'd always start by rocking against my swollen pubic mound, pressing into it gently with the base of his cock. Which would get me even wetter and more excited! He'd settle into me, then, without pumping or pulling out even slightly, cradled between my spread-apart slender young thighs.
I loved the feel of his rigid cock, deliciously warm and twitching in my pussy, but I wanted to do it!
“Start fucking me, Daddy, start fucking me!” I'd groan. “Make me come!”
This was when I was still only 9-years-old!
And he would, in fact, just start fucking the shit out of me without warning, the sudden slippery friction of his big cock sliding in and out of my wetly gripping little-girl's cunt always making my legs even shakier!
I could never keep from crying out with a series of sharp little gasps when he began fucking me, even if we needed to be absolutely quiet (in certain motels!).
“Daddy, my God!!” I panted, clutching at his back. “Fuck me, fuck me!”
“Sweetie pants, shhh!” he'd caution hotly in my ear. “The walls have ears…”
It was true.
More than once it was obvious, when we were doing it, that someone was listening through the wall to us fucking. Especially when I couldn't keep quiet about it. I'm certain whoever was listening was thinking we were a real couple, not just a father and his hot, oversexed little twig of an elementary school daughter screwing like crazy.
My dad would motion me over to the particular shared wall and, with our own ears pressed tightly to it, we could often hear heavy breathing coming through. Or the sound of our nighttime neighbor whacking off.
Seriously.
“Courtney, let's give him something to listen to,” he'd sometimes suggest. “Get back on the bed.”
I'd laugh at the idea, but climb back up there.
So with the bedsprings creaking loudly, rhythmically but gaining genuine speed as we got closer to sharing a mutually-shattering orgasm, I'd pant and moan and cry out with every ramming thrust of my dad's hard cock:
“Fuck me harder, mister, fuck me harder!” I'd call out. I'd use as adult a voice as I could muster. It was definitely funny to us both, but it felt too good to laugh, getting fucked by my father all out like that. “God, yes, mister, faster, faster, fuck me with your big cock even faster!”
“I'll pay you more to fuck you in the ass,” my dad would sometimes say loudly, as if I was a prostitute. “Turn over and let me fuck your perfect little asshole.”
“It's an extra $50,” I'd say. “The Vaseline's in my purse!”
And then he'd actually use real KY or Vaseline he'd brought, to lubricate and fuck my intensely-sensitive asshole so hard I'd sometimes forget the show we were putting on. And I'd pant, “Fuck my ass harder, Daddy, fuck it deeper!”
Oops.
Anyway, all of that was fun, and funny, but probably wrong in some way my therapist would find grave fault with (if she knew). After all, I was still just out of the 3rd grade, but my father had already turned me into a huge whore, if only in a sick play-acting showbiz kind of way!
But, mostly during my younger years, we'd just hide out, kept our voices down, and fuck each other nearly senseless.
“This is a huge sin, Daddy!” I said once, breathing hotly into his ear. He was screwing me so good I could barely see straight. “But I love it too much when you fuck me to stop!”
“Me, too!” he said. “You have the sweetest cunt!”
We were doing it like normal people, on the carpet, straight fucking with him on top, between my thighs and pounding every inch of his throbbing cock into my quivering little pussy with every stroke.
“Ohhh, it feels so good! Uh! Uh! Uh! Ohhhhhhh, fuck, keep doing it!”
We were almost delirious with the pleasure we shared, our breathing almost as one, coming in rasping heaves, his bare chest pressed tightly into my own skinny chest. I usually hooked my small heels behind his legs, urging him on with my hot thighs to go even faster.
Even back then, I loved a hard, fast fuck that about knocked me out!
“Fuck me to death, Daddy! Fuck me!”
“Christ, Courtney, you're cunt's so slippery in there!” he said. “And hot! And so damn tight!”
“Daddy, I'm coming already!” I groaned raggedly. “I told you I would!”
The climaxes I had with my dad were always the kind that wracked my entire young body. The instant I came, the waves of indecent pleasure blasted outward from my cunt with such pure heat that I couldn't breathe, my orgasm sweeping across my sweaty open thighs, all the way up to my hard little nipples and straight down to my widely-spread toes.
My God, I just couldn't get enough fucking from him at that early age, front-door or backdoor!
“I came so good!!” I managed weakly, my breath catching in my throat. “You've killed me…”
“You begged me to fuck you to death,” he pointed out. “Courtney, you're the best fuck I've ever had-even better than your mother.”
My God, I thought, my own father said I was a better fuck than my own mom! Again, looking back, I wonder what my therapist would say about that! But, I guess I'll never know, because she'll never know.
“Do you want to fuck me in my asshole next?” I continued, for real this time because no one was listening. We were staying in a Richmond motel that week and I added, “I'll let you cornhole me, if you let me have two desserts at dinner.”
He'd taught me that naughty word the first time he'd actually done it to me. I'd loved using it ever since.
And, hard to miss, I guess, in my so-called confession here, I often traded filthy sex acts with my father for a variety of treats, expensive desserts being one of my favorites, certain sex toys being another.
Anyway, for all the indecent appeal incestuous sex held for me, incestuous anal sex had an even more perverted appeal due to its even more obscene nature.
It had taken many nights of off-and-on effort to finally get my dad's big dick into my tight little asshole, but it was worth it. If getting fucked by my father excited me at that young age, getting fucked in my hot asshole by my own father, his dick entirely buried in my butt, excited me even more.
I always came extra-hard.
Between traveling with him during the summer months, I'd even spent time at home, working my fingers and other well-lubricated objects into my butthole as 'homework,' gradually stretching and opening myself up back there.
Also, the moment I had an orgasm during backdoor sex, my asshole and slick butt-cheeks always tightened spasmodically to squeeze every drop of hot cum out of my dad's thrusting cock!
We both loved it.
“Daddy, I can feel you coming in my asshole!” I'd pant each time. “But keep cornholing me until I come, too!”
See? I loved that word. And I loved being cornholed.
I loved my father, too-that's why I let him do such dirty things to me!
Actually, everything about anal sex with my dad got me insanely excited, even when he sometimes pulled me across his lap in my fake schoolgirl uniform, flipped up my plaid skirt and spanked my bare little ass (on both firm cheeks!) until it was stinging and red.
“That really hurt!” I'd complain.
And so he'd rub my ass all over with his strong hands to make it feel better, squeezing each reddened cheek gently, until-instead of the pain-all I could think of was his hands on my bare bottom. Then, after probing into my slippery pussy and my asshole from behind with a finger or two, we'd both slide down onto the floor.
Then he'd bend me over the chair he'd just spanked me on, lubricate me back there with some KY or Vaseline, and fuck me in the ass again!
Like, really hard and fast.
All in all, thinking back, I had no real complaints.