The Shark and The Mermaid
By IXIXMCMXLIV (call me IXIX)
Most incest stories are fantasies and many of them depict unrealistic characters in unrealistic situations (all men have African or Nordic-size cocks and all women are blowjob experts; the father is handsome and the daughter is young and extremely sexy.)
Well, in my story, which started two years ago, this last part is true: my daughter Kiara, who is now my lover, is truly sexy and very pretty. Although it took me almost one year to overcome her resistance and plant my lucky cock in her pussy, this story is only a brief account of what happened.
I am a 51 year-old physician and Kiara is now 26, a successful freelance writer and the mother of two beautiful children. She never expected that her own father’s lust and persistence would change her life forever.
Kiara’s husband, Ron, was a lawyer specialized in international law, and always an ideal son-in-law. We were good friends and he thought nothing of the amount of time that Kiara and I spent together, nor had he any idea that I was fucking his wife while he was at work or traveling. I know I should feel guilty; strangely, I don’t; as a matter of fact, I have never felt as happy as I feel now, and Kiara, my mermaid, tells me the same when she lies naked in her bed playing with my penis and offering me her body to fuck and enjoy as much as I want.
Kiara and I have always had a wonderful father-daughter relationship (she’s my eldest and my favorite;) we share the same interests in art and literature and she sees me as her mentor. We think alike and can talk for hours about every subject under the sun. She’s quite intelligent (a fact that, for me, adds to her attractiveness,) and her wisdom is years ahead of her age. In summary, we are the perfect couple, as lovers, as friends, as father and daughter, and as a man and a woman.
Kiara looks very much like a “pretty-womanly” version of me. We share the same eye shape and hard-to-describe eye color, and a “kissable” (that’s what my wife, her mother, says:) reddish mouth, full lips, bright white teeth, and a dagger tongue that we can both curl at will. No doubt, she’s my daughter, blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, and now, the perfect lovely pussy for my cock.
Kiara is well aware of her femininity and power over men. She knows how to dress and show her beautifully shaped legs and knees, and a sliver of her thighs, just enough to make you daydream of caressing your way up to her pussy. Her breasts are a most satisfying perky mouthful; she has a shapely butt, and moves like the Brazilian “Girl from Ipanema.” And for those of you who have learned how to truly appreciate the total beauty of women: Kiara has the most graceful and delicate neck, shoulders, upper arms and collar bones that you would want to kiss and bite on your way to her breasts.
I don’t know why it happened. Well, perhaps I know but I’m not sure. Late at night, I was surfing the web looking for erotic sites and came across “Southern Beauties,” a catalogue of images and videos of belles from the South (I’m from Georgia, so this was my territory,) And then, there she was: my daughter Kiara wearing sexy short shorts and a tight-fitting tank top that hugged her breasts and let you perceive the subtle profile of her long erect nipples.
I was shocked and mad at the same time. I had discovered that Kiara, my little innocent girl, had a secret life! Well, that’s what I thought at first. As I looked more and more at the images of “Kiara” in various stages of undress and increasingly provocative poses, I realized that she had a smaller nose, darker eyes, larger breasts and was younger than my daughter. And her name was Andrea. Pheeew, what a relief! However, my sense of relief was overcome by curiosity and I decided to pay the $29 dollars to see much more of Kiara/Andrea.
And that was the critical turning point (or shall I say, the point of no return) in my life and in my daughter’s life.
The next night, I started going through my emails but I just couldn’t concentrate; and after one hour of trying fruitlessly to read some of my on-line medical journals, my fingers typed the words to take me to the site of both my perdition and my deliverance.
Here she was again, and now I could enter “Kiara’s” secret world. As I expected, the images in the video got more and more explicit: I was watching my “daughter” taking off her clothes and caressing her body, looking at me and inviting me — almost daring me – to ravage her. I felt the rush of desire and the thrill of sin. My cock was at full mast and hard as steel. I felt dizzy; and my mouth was watering as if I were biting a mango.
In the last images, she laid down on a bear fur carpet, one knee bent, fondling one of her breasts, and licking her lips (exactly the way my Kiara does.) I was beyond myself; I wanted more; I wanted to fuck her NOW! Then, as if she had heard me, “Kiara” put her hand on her pussy and with two fingers opened the lips of her vulva to show me heaven’s door, daring me to enter. And I was lost.
I illegal bahis came and came like a fire-hose, without touching my cock, grinding my teeth and grunting like a beast. I was hot and sweaty and my heart was thumping out of my chest. Now I knew that nothing else mattered: I had to have Kiara at any cost; and I wouldn’t stop until I heard her moan: “I’m yours, Daddy, please fuck me” with my cock ramming her cunt.
Andrea became Kiara’s avatar. Every night before going to bed, I’ll spend one or two hours looking at my “daughter’s” naked body, masturbating, and thinking about a plan to seduce her, no matter the consequences. It became an obsession. My obsession.
Did I say that Kiara is a writer? Well, she had an invitation to a writers’ seminar at Berkeley, which she had accepted. Coincidentally, I had to give a lecture at a meeting in San Francisco the Friday before the seminar. But how unlucky can I be? At the last minute, my wife decided to come with me (this was out of character, as she doesn’t like to travel.) This time she wanted to come, “because it’s San Francisco, Paul.” Damn it! I wouldn’t be able to get to my daughter’s pussy as I intended.
Well, all problems have at least one solution. My wife asked Kiara to have dinner with us and spend the night at our hotel; and Kiara said yes. Problem solved!
We had two extra king size beds in our room and the two ladies wanted to sleep together. It was OK with me (in fact, this would facilitate my plan.)
I had a bottle of Rohypnol that I bought in one of my trips to Santiago (it’s not available in the US) and had brought specifically to make my daughter sleep, and fuck her to my heart’s (and cock’s) content. Now I had to drug both ladies, which again, was no problem. I went to the bathroom, ground two tablets and put the powder in a piece of tissue.
We had a great dinner: asparges and palmito salad, Sancerre wine, abalone, and the best tres leches I have ever had (“not even in Managua, my friends.”) While the ladies were in the “powder room” I put the magic powder in their dessert.
My ladies wanted to go to the room. I paid the check but told them that I was going to stay at the bar to watch “the game” (this sounded like a good excuse to spend one or two hours alone while the “R pill” took effect.)
After a few shots of vodka, I was ready to go upstairs. The room was dark but the TV was still on. I was able to see the figures of my wife and my daughter sound asleep. Fortunately, Kiara was on the side closer to my bed, which would facilitate my maneuvering of her delicious body. I was nervous. This was going to be my wedding night. I shed my clothes at the door (I could have hung all of them including my shoes, on the tremendous erection of my penis — such was the effect that the promise of my daughter’s pussy had on me.}
I approached Kiara, took her by the wrist and made her sit. Kiara opened her eyes and looked at me, startled. I threw her on my bed and started kissing her neck and licking her lips while lowering my hands to take off her panties. I did it very slowly, enjoying every second, well aware that I was opening a once-in-a-lifetime gift and committing a once-in-a-lifetime sin.
By now, her eyes were closed and she seemed to be asleep. Omigod what a beautiful sight: a light brown fuzz forming a small triangle on her pubis, over her clit and the pink lips of her “other” mouth. And I thought “This is a natural woman and I’m going to fuck her now.” I smelled her panties, which she had worn all day and were still wet with her juices, and almost came on the spot.
But first I had to taste her…
I knelt by the bed and put her legs on my shoulders. I was ready to enjoy a king’s feast. My mouth went directly to her cunt lips and the tip of my tongue started licking and lapping in circular motions, clockwise and counterclockwise, until I heard Kiara’s soft moans and rapid breathing.
Then, I nibbled her outer labia and put my nose at the entrance of her pussy. I was totally in heaven and nobody could take me away from my woman (now I knew that Kiara had to be my woman.) With my fingers, I uncovered her clit and I started to lick and suck. She was drenched and suddenly she squirted directly into my mouth. I thought I was going to die of joy.
I went back for my second serving. My tongue was now inside my daughter and I was drunk with the aroma and the taste of her salty, tart and umami cunt juices. Kiara was moaning softly and tilting her hips to meet my mouth. I was drinking my daughter’s heavenly nectar as if I were dying of thirst. My cock was fully erect and engorged and ready to find his nest. Kiara’s moans became louder. And then…
“Kiara, are you OK?” “Is something wrong?” The voice of my wife made me freeze.
She turned the light on and looked at me, shocked: “Paul, what are you doing?” With my chin resting on Kiara’s mound and still drooling, I answered: “Can’t you see? I’m eating our daughter’s pussy and after I finish here, I’m going to fuck her raw.” She nodded OK, illegal bahis siteleri eyelids dropping, and fell back asleep.
Oh, the glory of the sleeping pill; tomorrow none of them was going to remember what happened tonight.
I was ready to fuck my woman. I pulled Kiara by the hair, like a caveman, and put her mouth as close as possible to mine. I needed to breathe and smell her breath while I entered her. She was on her side, facing me; I lifted her leg with my forearm to expose her pussy. I was on fire.
I put my cock between the lips of her pussy and started sliding the tip over her piss hole and all the way to the hood of her clit, and then back to the opening of her vagina, without entering her. I was torturing myself to atone for the sin I was about to commit.
Then, a sudden thought hit me like lightning. And I stopped; I stopped moving, despite my hot iron rod, despite all my lust, and in spite of myself. (What am I doing? Omigod!)
This was too easy; and unfair to her and to me. Kiara was completely and totally defenseless and unaware of what was happening to her. I felt like a monster, a hyena, and the defiler of my own daughter. I wanted her awake. I wanted my Kiara to surrender to her father without chemicals or tricks. I wanted my daughter to scream my name when she came. But by now I had already reached the point of no return. I ran to the bathroom and, grunting her name, I exploded in a storm of semen, lust, and guilt.
Three weeks later, the four of us (Ron, Kiara, my wife and me) went to the theater (we used to “double date” once a month and always had a great time.) Since it was early, we decided to have a light dinner. I sat beside my daughter and knew that I had to start exploring the territory I was to conquer.
First I touched her knee with my knee and when she turned her head I said “Sorry.” She smiled and said nothing. I decided to engage Ron in conversation to make sure that he was distracted and didn’t see what I was doing to his wife. I was now caressing Kiara’s thigh with my knee. She moved away and looked at me quizzically. I smiled. She was reassured and continued eating her salad.
Emboldened, I lowered my hand under the table and touched her calf. This time she didn’t move. I knew she was confused trying to figure out what was going on with her father. For me, it was too late to stop. It was now or never. With my nails softly scratching her skin I traveled very slowly up her leg and reached the underside of her knee. I turned my hand and tried to separate her legs.
Kiara moved fast and trapped my hand within her knees. She continued talking to her mother as if nothing was happening under the table. I pulled my hand out and she relaxed her knees. I went in a second time and she clasped my hand again. We repeated the maneuver two or three more times. She had a Mona Lisa smile and her eyes were almost closed. This was now a game and the prize was between my daughter’s legs. And she knew it.
My wife and Ron were now engaged in their own conversation. I whispered into Kiara’s ear “I’m going to win, my girl.” She looked at me and threw her head back; I could see that she had goose bumps in her arms. There was no doubt of what I intended. She relaxed and I took my chance; my hand went all the way under her skirt. She was breathing heavily and put her napkin on her mouth to suppress a squeal when my hand finally reached its destination. She let my hand stay in the heat of her pussy, nested in the warmth of her thighs. I started moving my knuckles against her pussy and felt the wetness through her panties. Kiara began to rock rhythmically, pressing my hand with her pussy and both thighs. I had won! And I was going to fuck my daughter….very soon.
Abruptly, she stood up, “I’m going to the ladies room; Mom, do you want to come?”
The two ladies left the table and, since I travel extensively in Sub-Saharan Africa, Ron asked for my opinion on a case being reviewed at the International War Crimes Tribunal in the Hague. Apparently, it was the usual ethnic genocide disguised as civil war, which will probably remain unpunished.
My wife and Kiara came back and both seemed somehow bothered and upset (“Wow”, I thought, “now I’m in trouble,” and braced myself for the worst.) My wife sat beside me and Kiara took her mother’s seat beside Ron and facing me. I was ready to accept or deny the accusation, depending on who the prosecutor was. There was a long silence. And then, they looked at each other, laughed and resumed the conversation as if nothing had happened (Pheeew, that was a close call; perhaps I should be more careful from now on, I thought… I thought, but I couldn’t.)
We left the restaurant and Kiara went to sit beside Ron who was driving. “You know that I get dizzy when I sit in the back.” said my wife (thank God for displaced otoliths – the tiny pebbles in the inner ear that control equilibrium.) Reluctantly, Kiara sat in the back with me. The temptation was too big and my daughter was irresistible. After a short canlı bahis siteleri while, I tried to touch her leg (she was wearing a short skirt, almost a miniskirt of very thin and soft material.) I knew how much I was risking but I couldn’t help it. I had to feel and caress her skin.
She pushed my hand away and looked at me with a puzzled expression (I didn’t know if it was OK or not OK to proceed.) I tried again and this time, she held my hand, intertwining her fingers with mine. Then she put the back of my hand on her lap. I was unable to move my fingers but this was paradise. I could feel the warmth of her pussy and the up and down movement of her thighs. She was pleasuring herself and my hand was there, as a guest. Next time, I thought, I will be there, as the owner.
Ron’s 30th birthday and a beautiful afternoon at Ron and Kiara’s house. My daughter looked ravishing in her purple summer dress. I could have eaten and fucked her in the middle of the garden, in front of everybody. I won’t say more about this because I don’t know much about women’s clothing. What I can describe, though, is from Body Language 101 (after all, I am a neurologist:)
When a woman wants to attract a man and let him know that she’s available, she sends one or more (generally more) of these signals: wears revealing clothing, smiles coyly, flips her hair, tilts her head, exposes her neck, crosses and uncrosses her legs, thrusts out her hips, wets her lips (that’s my girl!), bites her lower lip, does the famous leg twine (a favorite of mine), holds the man’s gaze for 2-3 seconds and then looks away and down.
Kiara was sending me all of those subconscious signals while the other guests weren’t looking. I was excited beyond the limits of my libido (thank God for the large napkin covering my erection) and I thought: “Today I’m going to fuck my sexy daughter, no matter what.”
Kiara left the party and went indoors. I followed her to her bedroom and sat on the bed. She came out of the bathroom and was startled when she saw me there.
“Daddy, what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you, come and sit beside me.” (I patted the bed)
“I prefer to stand. Can’t this wait? I need to go back to the kitchen and make sure that everything is OK.”
“I don’t think so. For some time, I have been worried about you.”
“You seem restless; is there anything wrong between Ron and you?”
“No! Why do you say that?”
“Well, just a few minutes ago you were flirting with your own father.”
Kiara blushed: “I was not!”
“And we both knew what we were doing in the restaurant and in the car.”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want me to show you what I mean?”
“You better not!”
I stood up, took her by surprise and kissed her fiercely, trying to weaken her defenses and throw her on the bed. She arched her back and pushed my chest saying “No, No, No” but I grasped her wrists and put her hands behind her back. She was now helpless (or so I thought). Unexpectedly, I felt an acute dull ache in my testicles as she hit me full force with her knee. The two of us fell on the bed but I had to let her go.
She was furious, short of breath and hissing: “Dad, this is not right. I’m your daughter. What’s wrong with you? Don’t do this. Please stop, stop now.” There was blood in my lower lip from the bite she gave me trying to resist my kiss. Kiara slammed the door on her way out. I felt like shit “What have I done?” I thought.
After a while, I went to the yard to rejoin the party. My wife looked at me and asked “What’s wrong, Paul?” “Are you OK?” “What happened to your lip?” I don’t even remember what I said, but whatever it was, it worked. I went inside to get another drink. Kiara was in the kitchen, alone. The moment she saw me she turned around and passed by me without a word and still visibly upset. (God, I have ruined everything — now she will hate me for the rest of my life, I thought. I’m a colossal mountain of shit, a horny bastard and a despicable father. I’ve lost my Kiara forever.)
I really didn’t understand what was going on but for the rest of the evening, Kiara was all smiles, serving the food and chatting with the guests. I was sure that she was trying to punish me in the worst way a sexy woman can punish a man: by sitting exactly in front of me, dangling one of her sandals as a lure, showing more and more of her long, well-toned legs, and crossing and uncrossing them without deigning to look at me. She was distant but polite, not showing anger or ignoring me at all. She even gave me a kiss when we said goodbye, as if nothing had happened. I was confused and decided to retreat — wait and see — for the time being.
Fortunately, it was that time of the year when I go to the Gambia for six weeks, to teach at the Medical School in Banjul. This was going to be an almost unbearable time away from home. My only consolation was the prospect of regular visits to “Mrs. Philpot’s Parlour” which specialized in Eastern European women and young Dominican girls (their ad was hilarious: “The members of our staff are clean, thoroughly tested, and healthy”) The girls were nice, spoke understandable English and were well trained. And I was very careful before, during, and after intercourse.