Her warm body wrapped around him like an electric blanket turned to high. She had one hand on his cock, the other stroking his chest, and her lips began to nip and kiss at Don's neck. Her nipples were hot and hard against his skin, and he could feel unforgettably the firmness of her tits, round and proud.
"Stop it, Cathy," he whispered, struggling with her in the bed, trying to dislodge her hands and her body. "Stop it!" His pecker was hard as steel, thanks to the fondling of her fingers, and she was tugging at the waistband of his shorts in an effort to free his prick.
"Oh, come on," she teased, the words humming in her throat. The shorts went down, and she snagged the elastic waistband beneath his balls. Her hand made a grab for the protruding tool and she held it lightly, her fist smoothing softly along its rigid barrel.
"You have a nice penis, Mr. Robinson," she said in a deceptively genteel voice. "It's long, but not too long, and it's thick but not too thick. And I can feel your heartbeat when I hold it this way. Mmm, your pulse is a little bit fast. Are you getting overheated about anything?"
"Cathy," he begged her, "don't. Go back to your own bed and go to sleep. Be good. Don't do
something you might be sorry for later."
"What's to be sorry?" she wondered, kicking away the sheet that covered them. "Besides-you'll like it. I'm good. Ask Chris. I bet Gwen didn't tell you that she caught us today. Did she tell you? We were on my bed and I was on hands and knees while Chris put his prick into me from behind. I really liked that-I'd never screwed that way before. We could do that, if you want to. I'll do anything.
"No, no, no," he said, over and over, trying to shut his ears against the silkily erotic insistence of her voice. She was tantalizing and provocative, and he could smell the young-girl fragrance of her, mixed as it was with the warm lush aroma of her cunt, and he knew now why it was that Chris had fallen so hard for this wanton teenager.
Her lips traveled down his neck, across his chest. She sucked at his nipples until they were stiff and hard, and then she dragged her wet mouth across his stomach, making a beeline for the lance-like thrust of his cock.
"We can't," he said weakly. "We can't. You don't understand. You're-" and, he was on the verge of telling her the truth right then, that she was his daughter and Chris' sister, bound by the tie of blood and kinship even if she didn't know it, but somehow he couldn't. Much as he wanted to tell her, much as he wanted to take her in his arms and call her daughter, much as she needed to know the truth-still, it was Gwen's duty, not his. He was torn between his obligations to his child and his reaction to the erotic stimulation his child was providing him at that moment.
"I know what you're trying to say," Cathy said quickly, "that I'm Chris' girl and that I shouldn't be doing this wit you. Well, so what? Chris owes me one for what he did to me at the party last
night-screwing that damned Penny while I had to stand watching-and besides, I've been turned on by you ever since I saw your picture. You're such a peat-looking man, you know?
"And we're here together in a motel room, aren't we? And didn't you fib to the desk clerk when you registered? Huh? And nobody will ever know. If Gwen didn't trust you, she'd never have sent you to hunt me down, so she's not gonna accuse you of trying to make me. And I'm not going to tell anybody, for Christ's sake. I'm horny and so are you, if that cute thing-" She dipped her head and planted a kiss right on his cocktip- "is any indication. So let's get with it, Mr. Chris Robinson's daddy. What do you say?"
The touch of her lips so briefly upon his dick had been a totally unnerving experience as far as Don was concerned. It was like standing with wet feet while sticking his finger into a hot socket and, though premature ejaculation had absolutely never been a problem with him, for a hesitating instant Don wondered if he were not about to geyser his cream into the air to splash searingly upon the mom's ceiling. The almost irresistible urge passed him by, leaving behind only a tightness of feeling in his balls, and it was then that Cathy bent her head and began to suck at his dong.
Oh, God, he thought, she is good! A girl had to be born with the gift of sucking cocks that well; it was nothing that could be learned from any teacher. The action of her hands, her lips, her teeth, her tongue, her cheeks-it was all perfect in its application, its coordination. He closed his eyes and let his body get into tune with her blow job.
He felt like a pervert, lying there in a darkened room while his own daughter licked and sucked his pecker, and he felt like a bastard for letting her do it. But he couldn't stop her. He'd tried, and
nothing short of physical violence, which he could not allow himself to use, would have diverted her from her intention of seducing her boyfriend's father. Tomorrow, when she knew the truth, what would happen? Would she scream, cry, denounce him to Gwen? He hoped she would do nothing more extreme than the last, hoped she would understand that it was at least partially her own fault.
His ass moved heavily as her sucking became intense, inspired. Of their own accord Don's hands went down to tease and touch her hair as Cathy slurped away at this bedtime snack. His eyes were still closed, and there was a shocking sensation that seemed to burn like wildfire along his spine as he realized that he was using his voice to encourage her at her work, that he was saying, "Yes, Cathy, suck it for me, oh, nice, nice. I like the way you do that. More with the tongue, you hot little bitch!"
And it was then that Don came to understand fully what was afoot. She was his daughter, yes. He had, some seventeen years ago, planted the seed of Cathy in Gwen Corby's hot, sucking cunt. But it was only biological. He had never been a father to the girl in any ethical or moral sense. She was, to him, a stranger, a sexy teenaged stranger with whom he was at the moment sharing a bed. That was all. He was no more her real father than she was or could ever be his real and true daughter.
With the awareness came a new sense of freedom to his body. It was all fight. He was doing nothing wrong, nothing at all. There was no shame, no stigma in responding to the fantastically gifted oral caresses this young girl was doling out, and he began to respond thrillingly. His hands grew tight upon Cathy's head and he moved his body, and now she was on her side and he was seizing control of the situation, fucking her eager mouth with his
hot, throbbing prick. She made her lips a tight, sucking ring and allowed him to have his way with her, taking with delight the ever-harder stabs of his big, thick prick.
Only the constant salivation of Cathy's mouth prevented her lips from igniting spontaneously with the friction of his rapid in-out, in-out thrusts. She swallowed his rod happily on each thrust, feeling his cock grow bigger, stiffer, wetter each time he fed it to her anew, and she wondered idly if he intended to let her suck him to completion.
She soon found out. Don's cock slipped free of her mouth on one backstroke and, though she lunged for it with snapping lips and flipping tongue, his reddened tool eluded her.
"You like it dog-style," he grunted, "so get on your knees."
"Out of sight!" Cathy giggled, and she hurried to obey him, her body swaying as she got into position and awaited his penetration.
Don knelt behind her, steadying his body for a moment with his palms resting on her hot young ass, and then he took his pecker in hand and slammed it into her hole as hard as he could.
Cathy bucked forward, screaming, "OH, JESUS!!" as her wet cunt made room for the full entry of Don's prick. His cock was perhaps a bit larger than his son's, or so it seemed, but his meat presented no problems to Cathy's resilient snatch. The elastic lips yielded and then formed tight around the invading organ, and she began to work her ass in counterpoint to the dynamic flicking Don was giving her.
Her hips rolled and twisted, putting almost unendurable strains and stresses upon his dick, the subtle working of her snatch muscles tempting him to relinquish his self-control and let his cum fly, but Don fought the temptation. She was young
and tight-he hadn't banged a girl this young since his own teenage days-and he'd forgotten how sweet and snug a eighteen-year-old cunt could really be. Old memories returned to him, of young girls with apple cheeks and rosy lips, with tight high boobs and tight juicy twats, and it seemed that twenty years of his own life had rolled away in a twinkling. This, he knew, this was what drove his son wild about Cathy, and it was driving him wild as well.
He wanted to fuck her all night, to shoot his jism into her cunt, to force his cock stiff once more for a fresh bout, and on and on in that manner until the sun rose over the blue Atlantic to eastward. He could do it, he was sure, but he would be a wreck tomorrow and tomorrow was the day in which all the chickens came home to roost.
Well, he thought, tomorrow was tomorrow, and he couldn't do anything about that. Right now he was fucking the buns off a girl young enough to be his daughter-a girl who was indeed his daughter, or would be tomorrow, when she knew the truth. Tonight was another story and he intended to make the most of it.
Cathy's head and shoulders sank onto the bed, but she kept her ass high and her pussy full of Don's prick. She sighed and she sobbed, she moaned and she murmured, and she continued to give him a response worthy of a five-hundred-dollar call girl. Oh, yes, he told himself, this bitch-and he meant the imprecation affectionately-was born to be fucked. Born to be fucked.
He threw his head back and sighed a groaning sigh through his clenched teeth. The pressure upon his balls was absolutely incredible at this moment! He remembered his teenage days, the evenings spent in hours-long petting sessions with some
eighteen-year-old virginal flower, the type who allowed anything as long as it was above the waist, and he remembered how, after those hours of fruitless fondling, his cock would thrust out in a steel-rail hard-on and his balls turn blue with frustration. And he felt almost the same way right now, as his body screamed to him to let go, to flood Cathy's box with his fuck juice.
Sanity exercised some hold upon him, even m the frenzy of that longing. Cathy was shaking and twisting with her own orgasm now, mouthing obscenities of the tenderest sort, and he could not bear to hold out another minute. Quickly he extracted his cock from the rippling maw of her snatch and he fought the young girl onto her back.
She lay writhing, her eyes fuzzy, out of alignment, as he knelt astride her boobs. Don took his cock in hand and pressed it once more against her lips. Everything that had happened in the last few days could be traced back to that evening in 1958 when he had accidentally impregnated Gwen Corby, and he didn't mean to tempt fate twice in a row, particularly when the girl involved this time was his own child. He didn't know whether she'd taken any precautions, so Don resolved to do his duty regardless.
Cathy's quivering lips parted, and Don's mighty dong slid into her mouth, carpeted by her pink tongue. She made a tight 0 of her lips and began to suck his rod voraciously, in the process coating her inner mouth with the accumulated wetness of her pussy that had clung to his cock from their fuck.
Her tongue flipped his knobby glans and her lips and teeth wobbled upon his prick shaft. Don groaned loud and tried to hold himself upright, to keep from doing as he wished and plunging his dick fully into her throat. She was at a terrible angle for sucking, and when his load jolted into her mouth, she found that she could not swallow much of it. Her throat muscles ached from the strain as she drank his sperm down, and her hands came up to scoop at the cream which spilled abundantly from the corners of her gulping mouth.
His cock slipped out, still squirting, and Cathy took his sperm willingly on her face. When she had momentarily ingested all that was in her mouth, she began to lick at her lips and fingers, showing him dramatically how much she had enjoyed sucking his cock.
Don took his sopping prick in hand, shucking on it to clear himself of any, leftover cum, and in the process he managed to drain his sperm sac completely. When the last pearly drops had bubbled forth from his slitted tip, Cathy grabbed his dick and licked it clean, smacking her juicy lips as she savored the final remnants of the cream cocktail he had mixed especially for her.
And then she lay back on the bed, pursing her lips, pinning him with her eyes, and he rolled into her arms, his mouth seeking hers as avidly as his hand sought and cupped her firm tits, as avidly as his leg thrust itself between her thighs to press lovingly at the wet and furry mound of her cunt.
"Now we're even," she whispered, and Don looked at her strangely. "Me and Chris, I mean," she explained. He wasn't sure what she meant, but he didn't care either-all he wished to do at that moment was place another kiss upon the wet and sensual softness of her pink-lipped mouth.