Almost too soon he gave a deep grunt followed by a stream of curses as his cock stiffened and he began to shoot his load into me while still moving his hips. Mine followed quickly and I felt him drop his chest to my back and nibble my shoulder while his hips continued to lazily thrust against me massaging his cum into my pussy with his dick.
After we caught our breath he placed a hand on my belly. Gently rubbing it he said, “I’m going to have a hard time walking you down the aisle knowing that my second grandchild is inside you. I already want to fuck you again.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Is it really your grandchild if you’re the father?”
He laughed. “It’s all so backwoods West Virginia, right?”
“Just a little.”
After picking up my dress and running around making final checks for the wedding, my mother and I returned home so Dad could go to work. That evening I sat down with my mother in front of the TV for the final newscast my father would anchor before the wedding that weekend while Clinton played on the floor in front of us. As the program began, like one of Pavlov’s dogs I felt a tingling between my legs upon seeing him dressed in his suit as his deep voice welcomed his viewers. While he delivered the news with the gravitas it deserved, I found it so hot thinking he—a man who regularly fucked his daughter and had now impregnated her twice—was sitting there in front of a national audience appearing to be so normal and “respectable.” By the end of the program, I was moist and shifting uncomfortably as I dealt with my arousal and wondered if Brian would find it weird to have sex with me while having the TV tuned to my father reading the news.