A father intimately fucks his two young girls

A father intimately fucks his two young girls

It was October, and in Colorado the rain that came down temped just above freezing. This was, and always will be, Tom Leary’s favorite time of year. The dreadful summer heat was now, to him, a distant memory, one he was happy to forget.

As he stood alone in his country home’s roomy kitchen, he waited for the Keurig to fill his mug with coffee. He listened to it brew and leaned his lower back against the edge of the counter’s marble. His gaze found the newest line of photos that his wife, Callie, the five-foot, two-inch beauty he had married nearly two decades ago, had magnetized to the fridge; these were the favorites, the photos privileged enough to be seen by them daily. They’d taken so many this summer and early fall. Most were group shots of the Leary’s time in Cabo, a few were selfies of Callie and Tom, but the photos that put a sudden charging rhythm in Tom’s chest were those of his daughter, Grace Marie, and her best friend, Gretchen. The two eighteen-year-olds had been inseparable since the sixth grade. They’d always been pretty, this he knew … always popular, this he’d gathered. The two girls jogged together on weekday mornings, studied together on Sunday nights, shared a bed most weekends–either here or at Gretchen’s parent’s place in the city–and eventually, they’d graduate together, probably go off to college together as well, or so Tom had assumed.

Grace took after her mother: short, fit, beautiful and blonde, a smile that could steal a heart and an ass you’d want to pay for. Callie loved tight jeans, short skirts and thin dresses, a style that Tom had been thrilled to see rub off on Grace.

In one playful photo, Grace embraced Gretchen, both teens pressing their soft protruding, forbidden parts together; their nipples under tight tees were nearly touching; Tom couldn’t ignore this. The smooth, tight skin of their toned abs had met, and their thighs beneath short shorts, so gently, thoroughly, had dipped between eachother’s; of course he found it erotic, he didn’t know a man who wouldn’t. In another photo, Gretchen’s lips delicately kissed Grace’s cheek, their breasts once again had come together in a beautiful squish; it was an innocent peck for a friend, but the captured moment meant something else to Tom, something dark and twisted, a thing so vile and fucked up that the orgasms accompanying such territory had nearly dropped him to his knees when he’d jacked off to the thought of both his gorgeous daughter and her beautiful friend, naked under a raining showerhead and locked in his arms, their sweet little pussies taking turns clenching around daddy’s heavy, blood-choked cock. He’d fill ’em both up, all night long if they’d let him, as his pearl cream dripped from their slits and lips and ran down their smooth legs.


Tom slipped off his shirt and glanced at himself in the bedroom vanity; his muscles beamed from his shoulders to his bi’s, tri’s and pecs, a gift from years on the job. His muscles were a result of twenty-five years as a Denver Firefighter: lugging hoses, hauling ladders, carrying those he’d rescued down flights of stairs, up flights of lower-level stairs, through hallways and lots. He looked damn good for nearly forty-five, and he knew it, but more importantly, his wife, Callie, knew it.

When the married couple fucked, a rarity by design, their passion seemed immeasurable, and there wasn’t a single sex act they did the same way twice. They had found, if they treated sex as a luxury, and not as a daily meal, they both appreciated it tenfold. The pair had no problem going to bed aroused and resisting certain urges each and every night, because they knew what they were gaining by doing so.

Tom’s denim jeans came off next, then his socks. He crawled into their bed in nothing but his boxers and let the day’s stress that his body had endured, sink into the cool mattress. Callie, wearing a light blue nightdress that cupped her breasts, held her waist and dangled its jiggly silk flounce off her ass–washing the fabric over her creamy thighs like velvet waves–exited the bathroom, lowered her hair to her shoulders and slid in next to Tom. She reached for her nightstand while Tom watched her body bend so elegantly, seductively; she clicked off the lights and as Tom closed his eyes, he reached down between his legs and gripped his massive hard-on. He gave it a squeeze, wanting so badly, in this moment, to ejaculate all over his pretty wife’s delicate, needful face.


When the hallway light outside Tom and Callie’s bedroom door clicked on, Tom’s eyes opened. He looked at the clock next to the bed: 12:02 a.m., then heard a creak in one of the floorboards. His fingers slid over the grip of his forty-five that he kept in the drawer of his bedside table.

“Grace?” he called, waiting to see if the next footstep was heavy or light, the boot of a man or the barefoot of his girl.

He let go of the grip when Gretchen’s pretty eyes and half smile flashed at him from the doorway.

“Sorry if I woke you,” she said and stepped into the room.

He shook his head and exhaled a quick relief-filled breath. “It’s alright. What’s going on? You okay?”

She stepped into the room and Tom got his first look at her pjs: short cotton shorts and a tight little t-shirt. As usual, she wasn’t wearing a bra, her legs were visibly smooth and, in this moment, he wished to God his wife was anywhere else in the whole world.

Gretchen pressed her legs together, fidgeting her fingers, clearly unsure of how to proceed. “I had a dream,” she said as she closed the bedroom door nearly to the jamb, cutting off about ninety-percent of the light from the hallway. She moved to the bed and carefully sat on the mattress next to Tom.

“Was it a bad dream?” he asked, looking into her gorgeous green eyes. “A nightmare?”

Gretchen shyly eyed Mister Leary; he saw there was something in her gaze, a concern or, maybe a worry. The seasoned firefighter was great at reading a room … a situation, but apparently not so great at reading eighteen-year-old girls. She shook her head. “It was a good dream. It was about you.” She bit her lower lip, just enough to make Tom’s dick jump.

She scooted closer to him.

Her fingers held his hand and guided it to her lap. Tom watched her spread her legs a bit, then she leaned back and slipped his hand down into her shorts. His fingertips traced over smooth skin, a soft patch of hair, warm lips and when she pushed him down deeper … wet flesh. She inhaled deeply as she continued to guide his movements: slow motions, opening up her folds of soaked skin, gliding up and around to her swollen clitoris with each pass.

Gretchen removed her hand from her shorts, letting Tom do the work. She leaned into his shirtless upper half, pressing her side-boob against the defined muscles in his arm and she spread her legs as wide as she could. They kissed, long and hard. This young beauty had just thrown a wrench in the gears of Tom’s marriage, but there was nothing short of Callie’s wrath upon awakening that could stop him now.

Tom breathed in Gretchen’s lavender scent as he pleasured the teen. She kissed his bare shoulder and upper arm, and when she reached over him and grabbed his penis that had grown visibly larger beneath his boxers, he almost ejaculated; this little one had a touch that he hadn’t felt in years. Gretchen rose and stood before her newly claimed firefighter. She pulled off her tee. As Tom stared at her pale, erect nipples, wondering all the while if he was the only man who had, his fingers slipped from her shorts. He held her slim waist, pulled her in and sucked on her tit. Her breast bulged in his mouth as his tongue massaged it. Gretchen ran her fingers through his hair, intimately holding him while he took what he wanted. He moved to her other tit, sucking hard and tight, wishing he could taste and devour mouthfuls of her youthful milk.

As he sucked, Tom lowered her shorts off her plump ass, down her thighs and dropped them to the floor. She was naked. Tom backed off her breast and kissed Gretchen’s chest about a dozen times; he licked her collarbone all the way across her shoulder, tasting her subtle perfume. He would have licked her entire body from head-to-toe if they’d had the time; she was that type of girl: flawless, every single inch of her. To his delight, however, she lowered herself to her knees, lightly yanked at his underwear until he lifted his weight a few inches off the mattress and she removed them. With the slightest hint of a cute, yet, naughty smile, she leaned forward and took his thick cock into her mouth.

As her head dipped onto him, Gretchen’s lips tightened around the married man’s penis, her tongue circled the tip, caressed down the length of his bulk, vigorously swiped back and forth, stretching down to his balls. Upon rising, her teeth, as light as the touch of a feather, slid from the base, up the long shaft and over the tip, delicately applying a gentle pressure along the way, small safe pecks to stimulate his cock, fattening it to its broad limit. The pretty girl sucked him off far more thoroughly than Callie ever had. Tom reached down and held Gretchen’s face, his strong hands tight against her flawless, smooth complexion, tight against both luscious cheeks, and when her bright gaze locked onto his and he nearly swam in those pretty green eyes, she moaned–long and low–the cadence in her tone vibrating over his leaking head, causing beads of precum to push out and smear against her driving tongue.

He watched her head rise and fall with her movements. Her fingers stroked his balls and gripped at his inner thighs. The sounds of her sucking, slurping her spit off his throbbing tool–sounds he never thought he’d hear from the girl–made her seem like a pro, and when his tip slid deep and repeatedly poked at the back of her mouth, she held it there, quickly bobbing on it, using her throat to knead the head; it was more than enough, enough to make his body clench, his dick jolt and spurt. Tom burst a gushing white hot load of thick semen into her mouth.

She swallowed as she sucked, moaning subtle whimpers as she desperately worked to take it all down. But the load backed up to become a mess, and the overwhelmed sweetheart, despite trying to keep up with the flow, was overtaken and cum dripped from her lips and ran down her chin, her chest, her tits.

Tom kept still on the edge of the mattress, and did his best to calm his breaths, which slowed his racing heartbeat. Gretchen kept his cock in her mouth, and though it still leaked, it softened against her tongue and lips. His hand repositioned a loose bundle of her hair behind her ear, then caressed her cheek. She could be his mid-life crisis, or his excuse for one. The truth was, Tom loved his life, his job, Callie and Grace Marie; he didn’t fear or loathe getting older, and felt quite accomplished with all he’d done, but as he stared down at the naked teen–her body tight, her lower back arched, her plump asscheeks nearly spreading from her position on her knees–he knew now that what he had was no longer enough: the house, the car, the occasional sex with his wife; this five foot, two-inch cheerleader who regularly shared a locker and a bed with his daughter, had awakened him.

Tom pulled himself from the girl’s mouth, then gripped her shoulders and helped her to her feet. He stood and his dick entered the small triangular gap between her thighs and vulva … her Toblerone tunnel… and he delicately fucked it. He kissed her forehead as she used her fingers to gather up the excess cum on her chin and chest, and he watched as she lifted those fingers to her mouth and sucked them clean.

Tom inched his way back onto the bed, mindful as ever of his sleeping wife. Without making a sound, he put his back against the sheets and rested his head on the pillow. Gretchen climbed onto him, spreading her legs around his hips. She leaned forward until her flat stomach pressed against his abs, her breasts squished against his bare chest; they kissed.

She dropped the weight of her lower half, her wet cunt grinding, putting a pressure on Tom’s dick that, in turn, spread her lips and filled his shaft with her body heat. His cock moved down her twat, her velvet flesh wrapping his penis, brushing the veins that ran its length.

Before he forced his way into her, he met her hymen. As he aggressively prodded his head against the tender, yet firm veil, she clenched at the pain, and when it stretched, then broke, beads of her blood trickled between them. He pushed in. Her insides seemed to melt over his heavy meat. Tom pumped himself deep into his beautiful virgin and held her tightly as he delicately and passionately fucked her.

With Gretchen’s thighs spread wide for Tom, her pink cunt gripping his shaft and taking his head deep, her titties bouncing with every thrust he gave, the firefighter’s cock bulked up as it fucked the soft, wet tissue within her, and it erupted, bursting with cum, shooting a powerful stream of semen that poured over her swollen, beaten cervix and flooded her cherry canal. Tom didn’t stop there; he kept fucking her, pumping and cumming until the young girl held three of his generous forbidden loads.

“I never knew you wanted this,” Tom whispered. Gretchen lay over him, her weight against him, her legs spread around him, his hard cock deep inside her. They were still.

She repeatedly kissed his chest, then rested her chin on his collarbone. “I had to be careful. I couldn’t let her know how I felt about you.”

Tom raised his head off the pillow and looked at Gretchen.

“You know I’m not the only one who wants you,” Gretchen whispered.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

She smiled lightly and shook her head. “I guess I can’t blame you for being so clueless. She puts on a show when you’re around, so you won’t know …”

Tom’s pulse quickened. “Just tell me.”

“Your daughter has said, on numerous occasions, that she wants her daddy between her legs. She even writes about it in her diary, fantasizing about every position you’d put her in. She acts like your sweet girl when you’re around, but she’s got issues, and you’re at the center of them.”

Tom clenched his cock inside the girl, the sudden jolt causing the slightest moan to exit Gretchen’s mouth. He sighed. “I had no idea.” His hands gathered up her ass cheeks.

“I love Grace more than anything on this Earth, but trust me, she’s a good actress.” Gretchen’s cunt tightened around Tom.

Tom thought of his daughter, her bright smile, her delicate hugs, her lips, tits and ass … “I love her, too … more than anything,” Tom whispered in agreeance, though, more to himself than to the girl. As he drifted off into a land of naughty thoughts, his dick ballooned, pushing open Gretchen’s vagina, stretching her lips around him enough to make her heavily moan into his neck. His hands squeezed her flesh, then he forced her onto her back, towering over her, his muscles flexing as he held himself mere inches from her body. He pumped his cock into her, pulled it back so the head slipped away from her opening, then shoved himself deeper. Tom used his forearms to pin back her legs, moving her feet near her face; he fucked Gretchen without any regard for his sleeping wife … if she woke, he figured, he’d fuck her, too.

When he pumped his load from his burning, stretched cock, Grace’s name came from his mouth. Gretchen smiled.


Tom listened to Gretchen’s light breaths fall into a rhythm with his wife’s. His girls were sound asleep. He ran his hand up Gretchen’s spine, her soft skin felt like the pedals of a flower against his fingers. She fussed a bit when he kissed her forehead, her naked body adjusting so delicately against his own. He wanted to hold her all night, to fuck her until the sun rose, but it was nearing two in the morning; he’d been with her for two hours, and if Callie awoke, she’d find Gretchen sleeping next to her, something he’d have no explanation for, as if he could provide one, other than the obvious.

He patted Gretchen on the butt and whispered her name. As soon as she opened her eyes, he kissed her lips, then told her they’d been pressing their luck long enough, and that she should probably get to bed. Gretchen nodded, gave him one last kiss that felt so intimate and wet it made him throb once more, and then crawled off the mattress. She threw on her shirt and pulled on her shorts, all while Tom watched, his dick rising with every move her body made.


As Tom held Callie on their living room couch, Grace Marie slept in the nearby recliner. The lights were low, and sharp sleet had been tapping on the windows most of the evening. Callie’s silk night dress clung to her body, her breasts and nipples pushing against the soft fabric, calling to the firefighter to free them. Ever since he’d pulled his cock from Gretchen the previous night, it had ached for more pussy. With Callie on her back, her head resting in his lap, he ran his hand across her cheek, down her neck and between her breasts; it came to rest over her navel. His cock expanded, filling full, pushing against his wife’s head, and when Tom dipped his hand between Callie’s legs, gathering up her dress and exposing her upper thighs, she turned her face into his bulge.

He slipped into her panties, ran his fingers through her soft bush and then cupped her entire vulva. He felt her juice soak his skin, and easily pumped two fingers into her twat. He pushed them deep, his palm rubbing at her clit as he slowly churned his digits inside her, bending them forward to swipe circles across her g-spot. Callie lifted the leg of the pajama shorts that rested on Tom’s right thigh, then reached in and pulled out his hot swollen cock. She opened her cherry-red lips and squeezed at the base of Tom’s shaft, widening the head to give her a mouthful; she took it. Her wet inner cheeks rubbed against his head and her eager tongue stroked every inch as she sucked him like they were back in high school.

Grace Marie stirred, bringing her left leg over the chair’s arm rest, repositioning her upper half with a delicate yawn, her nipping breasts jiggling slightly with her movement. Tom grew harder in Callie’s mouth as he focused on his daughter’s pale thighs, her tight top, her shoulders exposed by fallen straps and her slightly parted, luscious lips.

When his free hand gripped Callie’s face, pushing her deeper onto his dick, he pumped it in her mouth, rocking his pole aggressively between her tongue and teeth, tapping her uvula. He stared at his beautiful teen as her breaths made her chest rise and fall, putting a pressure between fabric and skin that held, and offered, her plump mounds at the same time, bulging those young eighteen-year-old titties … titties daddy so desperately wanted to taste.

His fingers beat Callie’s pussy, his hand slapping against the wet mess he’d made of her lower lips. As Grace Marie opened her eyes, Callie, oblivious to anything outside of Tom’s dick, orgasmed, filling her panties with a heavy squirt and moaning over Tom’s driving shaft. As Tom face-fucked his wife like he was pounding pussy, his pulse sky-rocketed when Grace’s pretty gaze immediately locked onto her mother’s soaked dress, then her father’s deep thrusts. He quickly minded his business, mostly focusing on the back of Callie’s head.

Tom and Callie had never had an audience before, let alone such a forbidden one. It took mere seconds before Tom nutted aggressively, explosively firing into the back of Callie’s throat, and he made it a big deal … put on a show. To him, his burst of wet heat pumped harder, longer, even seemingly hotter than ever before, all due to the fact that Grace, as far as he could tell, had never looked away; she stared as her mother swallowed three times, watched her daddy spurt into mommy as he desperately tried to pretend he was unaware of his daughter’s prying eyes. Tom had wanted to cum to his eighteen-year-old baby’s body … her curves, her skin, that light in her irises, but he only had a peripheral view of her form. It wasn’t until the couple settled and Callie lifted her mouth from Tom’s soaked dick, that Grace turned away and sank back into the recliner’s cushions, Callie, at least: none-the-wiser.


Grace Marie Leary, the beautiful daughter of Tom and Callie Leary, stood in the foyer with water dripping from her big puffy coat. Her hair was a mess and her make-up, smeared around her eyes. Despite the rain, Tom, who’d had the house to himself this evening, could tell she’d been crying.

Grace and Gretchen had gone, for what was meant to be, dinner and a movie, but only half an hour had passed since they’d left.

Tom rushed to his daughter, his mind going immediately to the worst of scenarios: a car accident, robbery, an incident with the police. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Where’s Gretchen?”

Grace shoved Tom so hard that he fell back, his bare feet trampling over Callie’s snow boots, his shoulders and upper back colliding with the wall, destroying the sheetrock and an electrical switch, which, in turn, took out the entry lights. By the time Tom had gathered what had happened and pulled himself from the wall, Grace had stormed to her bedroom. Her door slammed, followed by a crash of glass and wood. He knew that sound; it was the little shelf of collectible glass bells he’d hung for her last spring.

“Smart Tom,” he mumbled, rotating his left shoulder a bit, testing its mobility, “hang the bells next to her door … fucking brilliant.” He dusted off his Colorado Fire Academy t-shirt, then looked back at the mess, which, he surmised, could have been avoided had Callie done what he’d told her to do and picked up her fucking winter gear.

When he got to Grace’s door, he heard her sobbing, and when he opened it, she stood from the bed. The dress she wore was partially soaked over her chest; the cotton fabric clung to her skin and both straps had fallen from her shoulders. She’d had a hell of a night, and it showed.

At some point between her handling Tom in the foyer to now, Grace had attempted to wipe the runs of eyeliner from her face, but she’d smeared them, leaving a subtle dark shade under her eyes. The girl was a knockout any day of the week, but in this state … Tom had never seen her so beautiful.

She grabbed her pink piggy bank and launched it at Tom; he’d always loved the fire inside her, but this was a bit much. He dodged it and it shattered against the door, sending ceramic chunks and about seventy dollars worth of change exploding everywhere.

“Seriously? Come on, Grace.” He walked to her, watching tears drip down her cheeks. “If you want to hit me, hit me.”

She stepped forward and punched him in the mouth.


“I’m leaving,” she said, rushing to her closet, pulling clothes from hangers and tossing them onto her bed.

“You’re not leaving,” Tom said, his fingers examining his lower lip.

“Yes … I am.” She pulled open a small duffel and threw in two pairs of jeans, three shirts, her make-up kit and some underwear. Then she turned, intrusively shoved her fingers into her father’s pant pockets, rifled a bit for the pizza money he, predictably, had ready for his night of freedom and a movie, until finally pulling out a fifty dollar bill; she packed it.

Tom glanced around at the mess. “You can just pay me back with all these quarters,” he said, crunching a few under his feet.

She ripped a dress from its hanger, tearing the fabric.

“Stop,” he said, approaching her from behind and lightly gripping both her upper arms. She did stop; she stopped packing, stopped crying and, in this moment, he could have sworn she stopped breathing. “You need to talk to me.” He gave her arms a squeeze.

Grace turned around and looked into her father’s eyes. She examined them, searching for an answer to a question he could tell she didn’t want to ask.

“How could you have fucked her?”

Tom’s hunch had come to fruition; Gretchen had talked. He silently cursed himself for thinking a teenage girl could keep a secret. He took in a deep breath, using those precious few seconds to wonder what the hell came next. He’d fucked up many times before, but never quite like this. He’d betrayed his wife and his daughter in one sitting. “Look, I know it’s bad. And if you want me to come clean, I will.”

“I don’t want you to tell mom,” Grace yelled so loud it made him jump. “You can’t. She can never find out; it’d kill her. You don’t get to destroy her and break up this family. I just … I need time to think.” She tossed the duffel on the floor of her closet, then closed the doors and turned back to her father.

“Why her?” She moved a curl of hair from her eyes.

“You’re not going to like my answer.”

She waited for one anyway.

“She wanted it, baby.”

Grace shook her head. “Men.”

“You’re right. When it comes to women, we don’t tend to think things through. The beautiful one’s are impossible to resist.”

Grace shied away. “I thought I was your girl.”

Tom cupped her pretty face in his strong hands and brought her back. “You are, baby. You always will be. No one’s ever going to change that … you don’t need to be jealous.”

“Did you call her baby, too?” she asked.

“Try not to torture yourself, Grace.” Tom moved his hands to her waist and he held her there. I’ve been calling you baby since the day you were born.”

She shivered; the cold was getting to her.

He pulled her in and wrapped her up, her dress soaking his shirt, sending an icy chill over his skin. He felt her body relax against his. “You’re drenched. You need to get out of this dress before you get sick.”

But she didn’t move. Her breath was warm against his chest. Tom kissed her forehead and tightened his hold on her. He ran his hands up and down her back and for the first time since the little terror had come home, she was quiet. The entire house was quiet. He remembered holding her like this, in this same silence, when she was a baby. He had always been able to calm her. Tom held his daughter; it’s what she needed. He held her so long his knees had started to ache, but he wasn’t about to break from her.

“I think your heat could dry my dress, daddy,” she whispered, then raised her head off his chest and looked into his eyes. “… and my skin.”

He kissed her cheek, then her nose.

Grace pulled away and took a step back. She brought her hands to her dress’s dangling straps and hooked them, pulling tight, sucking the dress against her body. In one motion, she pulled the fabric. It slid easily down her chest, her cleavage expanding to the force of the cotton bearing down, then, her bust retracting as both tits popped out. As the dress cleared her upper half, gravity took her young titties and held them, perky and plump, her areoles as pale as the skin around them, her nipples like berries. When her dress lowered beyond her navel, she let it go and her hips held it as if it were a skin-tight skirt.

Grace ran her fingers over her father’s muscles. “Heat me up, daddy, so I don’t catch a cold.” She tugged at his shirt and he removed it. As Tom stared down at his half naked angel, his cock tightened the buttons on his pants. He pulled her in, once more, embracing her, feeling her cold breasts and hard nipples connect with his warm pecs; her flat stomach pushed against his bulge, the contact sending blood pumping throughout his penis.

She slowly swayed back and forth, that agitating glorious pressure quickly turning to friction. When Grace’s fingers slipped between her and her father, hastily pulling his pants down and dropping them, her abs moved over and up his heavy, solid rod–her bare skin putting a wave of tingles and heat over his sensitive foreskin. His body tensed and Tom gripped the girl’s flesh above her hips, squeezing and pulling at the muscle and tissue; when their lips touched, he ejaculated against his daughter, pumping a mighty spurting load of semen over her tight tummy.

Grace wiggled her dangling dress-turned-skirt down her legs and it fell to her feet. She knelt to her father’s dripping dick head and kissed it, collecting a gob of semen on her lips. She frowned, sampling the taste, curiously dabbing it onto her tongue, bringing it into her mouth and finally, swallowing. This reminded Tom of an old memory of Grace trying some sort of liquid candy for the first time; she was disgusted by it.

‘If she didn’t like that, she …’ His thought trailed off as his dick pulsed with pleasure, feeling his baby desperately cleaning his cock.

She kissed the head again, and again. She kissed it with a passion he’d only ever seen from Callie, when they were young, on dates, making out in his car. The girl’s mother had been so aggressive, a trait he had loved.

“So eager, baby,” he whispered, touching her chin. “Just like her.”

Grace kissed from the base all the way to the tip, using her tongue in quick bursts. Daddy pushed his cock into her mouth and immediately felt his girl tonguing the tip, slurping up the rest of his seed. She bobbed her head, sucking his cock deep, tight and slow.

He closed his eyes and let her work.

When he finally opened them, he focused on the myriad of photos Grace had of herself and Gretchen; they lined the top and sides of her vanity’s mirror: Gretchen’s cleavage, Grace’s collarbones, their shoulders, thin waistlines, the way they held each other, the way they kissed each other … everything about them made him hard, made him want to cum in his baby’s mouth. He focused in on one where Grace had spread her legs in the short jean shorts she wore; the soft skin of her long legs led his gaze to her thick inner thighs, her sweet cunt so close to bulging in the shot. He needed that.

He stood her, pulling her mouth from his rod, then dropped to his knees and kissed at his girl’s pussy, her beautiful mound. His tongue opened it and spread it, giving him his first taste of her. His fingers squeezed her bare ass, pulling open her cheeks as he licked, sucked … devoured her ripe peach.

Grace’s juice put a subtle tang in his mouth, she was sharp but not overly. She was so wet that her juice dripped from her pussy lips and his chin, at times, beads running down her thighs, which he quickly cleaned up, sucking down to her knees and back up again, wanting, so badly, to taste every part of her perfect body. But there was more he needed from her, and they didn’t have all night. Callie would return eventually.

Tom lifted his daughter into his arms, smearing the cum between them, his cock aggressively pushing at, and opening her pussy.

“Make it hurt, daddy.” She moaned at his girth dividing her and he felt her cunt clenching repeatedly over his head. “Fuck me,” she whispered into his mouth as he kissed her.

Tom obliged and shoved his dick into her. Grace stifled a scream into his neck and bit down on his shoulder.

He gripped the fat of her asscheeks and bounced her on his dick, with one quick thrust to get the tip in deep, feeling her tender inner flesh sucking and working around his bloated schlong. Tom walked her over to her bed, rested her back on the bedspread and sank his weight onto her, which put even more depth and pressure inside her, his manhood spreading her walls and stretching her entire vagina. He tasted her mouth as they kissed, then used his upper body strength to lift his chest from hers and he fucked his daughter, tapping her pussy fast and hard, then slow and deep. Her hands gripped the pure muscle in his pecs, her fingers squeezing them, her nails digging in.

Grace Marie moaned louder and longer than Callie ever had. The young sensual cries of pleasure, her adorably aggressive grunts and her desperate whispers encouraging him to abuse her, put a fire in him that had him working her cunt like he wanted it beat red. His virgin girl moved her arms to his shoulders and she held on so tight that her back lifted off the mattress. Her pussy exploded as she orgasmed, cumming and squirting over his working penis, just like her mama’s always had. His cock kept its rhythm and Grace continued ejaculating. Another shot soaked them, drenching their thighs, dripping down to the blankets beneath them. He pushed in harder and deeper, shoving his cockhead against her cervix, the blunt impact sending an obvious shutter throughout her body and a cry from her mouth, forcing more spray from her fucked cherry. Tom filled Grace’s pussy with his cum.

Daddy collapsed on top of his girl, flexing his muscles against her grasp and his cock against her silky tissue. His tongue opened her mouth, explored her teeth and licked at her inner cheeks. He rocked himself back and forth slowly, feeling her delicate labia inching up and down his monster cock.

Tom pulled his rod from Grace, forcing her to gasp, and kissed his way across her heaving chest; one by one he took his daughter’s breasts, devouring them as if he’d waited a lifetime to do so, sucking them like he needed her nutrients and biting at both nipples.

“Daddy,” she gushed as he jiggled her tits.

With one quick move, he flipped Grace onto her stomach. He licked her from her clit to her tailbone, then kissed her spine up to her shoulders. Grace raised her body from the blankets, her plump butt rubbing his cock and she looked back at him with those big pretty eyes. “Daddy?”

Tom pushed her back down to the mattress, then buried his face between her asscheeks, soaking her in his spit, lubing her up. He brought his dickhead–still soaked from her pussy juice–to her asshole and pushed it in, spreading her wet hole so thin, its pink shade brightened. Grace winced, but when Tom’s cock slid deep inside her warm open ass, she moaned into one of her pillows, and her hips immediately moved for her daddy, pumping herself around his dick, stroking the entire length of him, fucking his cock with long hefty swells. When he countered her beats with steady driving humps, her cheeks bounced, picked up pace and clapped around him. Tom watched that young perfect ass, and as it shook and danced–grinded and jacked his cock–he slapped the right cheek and watched the vibration travel through it. He slapped it again, harder this time. As he spanked his gorgeous daughter, watching the pale cheek’s color turn red, she raised her upper half, her curved back pressing against his abs and chest. She looked back at him and they kissed, her tongue finding his. When his hands reached around her and cupped her bouncing titties, he exploded inside her, creaming her insides as she continued to bear down on him.

“I can feel you, daddy … cumming inside me,” she whispered, kissing him again. “Don’t stop.” Grace Marie’s cheeks and asshole clenched down hard, sucking around his bursting swollen pipe. She went down on all fours, her ass pumping daddy’s cock until, like the good girl he had raised her to be, she had obediently taken every drop of his hot, thick, drenching semen … from the same big cock that–only eighteen years prior–had brought her to life.

Tom and Grace collapsed to the bedspread where he still gripped his daughter, his cock slipping from her asshole only to be engulfed and held by her big asscheeks. His cum ran from her hole and his tip smeared gobs of the mess between those stout cheeks. As his strong grasp gripped the young one at her waist, his lips explored her shoulders and upper back.


Tom awoke to soft lips pressing against his; he opened his eyes. The room was dark, but the bedside lamp gave the place a dim glow. He was groggy, but when his eyes adjusted, to his surprise and delight, he saw Gretchen–her tight dress soaked beautifully in rainwater–arching her curvy body over him, her wet breasts tickling his chest, her left hand clutching Grace’s naked hip. His cock jumped, its shaft and head still smothered between his daughter’s bare asscheeks.

When Tom’s dickhead prodded Grace Marie’s asshole, applying a healthy jolt of pressure, enough to stretch her open again, she let out a moan. Gretchen crawled onto the bed and put herself face-to-face with her best friend. As they looked into each other’s eyes, their fingers intertwined with one another’s. Against Gretchen’s wet dress, their young titties met, along with their abs and thighs. Their bare feet brushed together, their toes caressing the soft skin of their arches. When Gretchen leaned in and, as if this moment had been plucked right out of Tom’s fantasies, kissed Grace’s lips, Tom shoved his thickening cock back into his baby’s asshole, feeling her suck and pucker around his growing rod.

“I never meant to hurt you,” Gretchen whispered to Grace. “I love you.”

They kissed again.

Gretchen’s lips separated from Grace’s with a wet smack, and she slowly, intimately kissed her way down Grace’s neck, making her way to the girl’s collarbone, then her chest; Gretchen passionately kissed Grace’s tits, taking her time to suck them, to circle them with her tongue, to nip at them with her teeth. She moved down her friend’s tight stomach … descending all the way to the beautiful girl’s wide open inner thighs, to her tight little, cum-filled pussy, and there, next to Tom’s pushing, pulling and drilling cock, the soaking wet bombshell took Grace’s entire vulva into her mouth and ate that pussy as if it were a juicy peach.

It took only seconds before Grace’s body stretched … contorted, her fists clenching, her moans rising and she burst all over her own legs … squirting and spraying a healthy fountain over Gretchen’s pretty face and open mouth … and with that, Tom, still deep in his baby’s fat ass, lost his load once more.

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