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Subject: {Losgud}JDR"The Island B"(MF inc con)[2/2]
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JOHN DARK REPOST
The following story is posted for the entertainment of adults. If you are
below the age of eighteen or are otherwise forbidden to read electronic
erotic fiction in your locality, please delete this message now. The story
codes in the subject line are intended to inform readers of possible areas
that some might find distasteful, but neither the poster nor the author
make any guarantee. You should be aware that the story might raise other
matters that you find distasteful. You read at your own risk.
The enjoyment of these reposts can be increased by reading the "Coming
Attractions," which includes the titles to be reposted in the next week.
These stories have not been written by the person posting them. Many of
those e-mail addresses below the author's byline still work. If you liked
the story, either drop the author a line at that e-mail address or post a
comment to alt.sex.stories.d. Please don't post it to alt.sex.stories
itself. Posting the comment with a Cc: to the author would be the best way
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The copyright of this story belongs to the author, and the fact of this
posting should not be construed as limiting or releasing these rights in
any way. In most cases, the author will have further notices of copyright
below. If you keep the story, *PLEASE* keep the copyright disclaimer as
well.
=====================
The following is total fiction. Any resemblance etc. is a product of your
imagination. This work is meant as ADULT entertainment. If the laws
where you sit say you're too young to read this, go away and turn
yourself in to the thought police. Even thinking about sex is dirty and
nasty and will warp your mind forever. Go watch a movie or play a
game that ends with a body count in the high four figures. Death and
destruction are good clean fun.
Copyright (c)1997 losgud. Personal use just fine. Archiving okay.
Absolutely NO for-profit use permitted. Reposting without notice is
frowned upon. Tampering with the text (rewriting) is illegal. Copyright
violations will fall under the jurisdiction of my principality, where the
punishment is to discourage repeat offenders. We cut your fucking hands
off!
======
ISLAND
losgud
losgud@hotmail.com
Section B:
Dinner it was, and what a feast! What smells and so many bowls.
Nicely spiced chicken chunks and beans refried from scratch. Several
kinds of grated cheese which didn't come from bags. All sorts of
vegetable stuffing, and warmed tortillas to wrap it all up in. "_For
god's sake_," I complained, "is this fresh cilantro minced up here?" It
made my heart just swell to see how warmly Lissa took the compliments.
"How do you do it?" I continued. "I can barely get that fossilized stove
to boil water for coffee."
Melissa was shrugging and blushing, "Well what would you be doing for
dinner if I wasn't here to take care of you?"
"You'll notice," I nodded towards the counter, "that I did not leave the
bag of _chips_ in the trunk. I have my priorities straight. And chilled
in that cooler is a six-pack of liquid nourishment known as sandwich-in-
a-can."
"Gawd, my incorrigible father," she rolled her eyes. "Though now that
you mention it a couple of beers would be perfect with all this."
And so they were. The clean-up was easy as always if a bit primitive.
Melissa got a fire roaring in the hearth, then fed it the gunky paper
plates and bowls. I swiped out the pans, then filled them with clean
water and a little bleach and let them boil for a bit.
Evenings on the island tended to end early. Aside from the fireplace
the only light is from a pair of antique oil lamps. You can read only if
you want to ruin your eyes. We chatted frivolously for a while, then
ran through our patience for double solitaire and gin rummy and poker.
There was a short serious discussion of art while we both kept picking
up our respective cans of the last beer on the island, pretending or
forgetting that they weren't really already empty. Eventually we went
taking turns darting outside to empty our bladders of beer. Then we
shared a basin of precious water to brush our teeth. The lowering of
the lamp wicks away to nothing. I discreetly changed into my pyjamas
and slid into my bed. Melissa slithered out of her pants and bounded
into her bed in just her t-shirt. Which wasn't so long that I didn't
catch the golden dying fire glow of her bare butt. There was the
slight delay before I thought, _hey, she shucked off her panties along
with her jeans_. And another before I considered, _or else she wasn't
wearing any to start with_. I certainly started feeling positively old-
fashioned in my pyjamas. It was a positive sensation though, because
even in summer the nights on the island got pretty chilly, especially
once the fire went down to embers. But what did I care? My era as
Father Knows Best was like that of the television show, residing solely
in the history of memory. I curled up and prayed that sleep would
somehow find me in this relatively early hour.
Sure enough I was right. I lay there in bed thinking _man, it's gotten_
too _quiet out there_. Then the wind picked up. The trees out back of
the cabin began their supernatural keening, a sound I've always found
extremely disconcerting. It would be too dark to see but I knew exactly
how it would look, the wall of solid water sweeping across the lake.
There was a brief flash like someone was lurking outside with an
instamatic camera. I counted the miles until I heard the brief _pop_.
That laggard the old speed-of-sound would be closing the gap real fast.
There was never any real danger. All the trees within falling range
had been cleared off to build the damn cabin. Around the cabin stood a
grove of lightning rods that looked like the place was actually
transmitting clandestine signals to the evil aliens in the next galaxy.
And given what a tinder shack the place was it probably had been a
good idea to reroof it in tin. That hat was _bolted_ down, and
grounded like crazy. A good idea, mind you, if you didn't have to be
on the island during a storm. I was getting a headache just thinking
about what a headache I was going to get. There were the first few
pretty little drops, and then the steel drum marching band arrived. I
could hear Melissa start to stir. Within minutes we were beneath a
forest of lightning sprouting down from the clouds. The air was thick
with the smell of electricity, the cracking like every bone in your body
splitting at once.
The only sound louder was the shriek Melissa gave as she launched
herself upon me. I was not caught unawares. That little girl of her
will go with her to the grave. She has always been pathologically
terrified of thunderstorms. The familiar pounce was of course a bit
more quaint when she was younger by twenty years and about a
hundred pounds. The amazing thing was how she was on the bed and
within seconds burrowed beneath the covers and wrapped tightly
around me. I soothed her in the old way, murmuring a string of
nonsense noises, kissing the top of her head, my free hand performing
hypnotic loops upon her back.
Gradually the storm crossed, and the small swirls of my hand sent me
down into a light doze as well. I started thinking about the dog I had
when I was a kid. He was a German Shepherd we named Rocky, until
when still a pup someone bothered to lift his tail to discover that he
was in fact a she. The name Rockette never really stuck. She was a
ferocious dog. She was loyally great with the family, but woe unto the
milkman and mailman and garbageman and any man, woman or child who
dared set foot on our stoop and knock on the door. But thunder made
her melt. She'd be quivering in your lap at just the mention of it. I
was well remembering one night when she was half up in my lap and
then as the storm passed she was hunching my leg. Rocky was much in
heat at the time. This was back in the days before people altered their
pets, and while much has been made of male dogs doing that old leg
humping shit, it was nothing like Rocky letting you know when she was
wanting some of that good attention. Rocky sort of melted into Belinda,
a girlfriend of mine during my year in college. Thunderstorms for
Belinda were the gods' manna that maybe the lights would be shot for a
few hours. But otherwise she was like Rocky. Her crotch rubbing
along my thigh expressed her desires better than any words. The two
of us were not a very well matched couple. The major miracle wasn't
that we stayed together but that we'd gotten together in the first place.
Once we were set in place, the sex was a huge squirt of glue. So
though my shoulder was rather wet--from Melissa's fearful tears I
remembered--it was a desert compared to the soppy circle on my thigh.
Given the call, and the pressure of a warm leg against it, my cock was
throbbing in full regalia. "Oh Daddy," Belinda whimpered.
Oh Daddy? _Oh my fucking god!_
I feigned sleep. My penis was having none of that. A hand touched it,
and it _lurched_. The fucking tube-shaped slut! Old Mr. Friendly was
wanting to pop out of my pyjama bottoms and shake hands with
everyone. The problem with cocks are that they don't have hands of
their own. If they did they could detach and go off to an island all
their own and live happily ever after.
In a girlish whisper Melissa intoned in my ear, "Is this the magic wand
that made me your Princess? What happens when I _rub_ it, hmm?"
She started to find out. And she'd be finding out real quick if she
kept up that pace. It'd been nearly a month since anyone but me had
taken that old dog out for a walk.
"Melissa," I hissed.
"Yes _Daddy_?"
"What are you _doing_?"
"I'm still scared, Daddy. I need you to comfort me more. And more and
_more_."
I couldn't figure out _what_ to do. I could be forceful and honorable,
but hell, the dynamics between us were already irrevocably altered.
And then there was that throbbing part of me that was shouting, _Just
shut up and enjoy the show!_ Before I could conclude any damn thing,
Melissa turned into a bulldozer, driving between my legs and pushing
the covers and my bottoms out of her way. I knew I was a goner the
moment her tongue touched my cock.
"_Gee-e-ez_," I mumbled amid a groan.
"Did I just hear a request for _jizz_?" she replied brightly. "Okay, one
serving, _coming_ right up."
With that her lips plunged all the way down, then up, then down. _My
god_, I thought, _No wonder Dale always has a smile on his face!_ Boy,
you think you know your kids. I'd had no inkling that my little girl
had grown up to be a cocksucker _extraordinaire_. Though then again
perhaps this isn't the sort of development that gets related over
Thanksgiving Dinner. Melissa was certainly having a big old dinner
right now and no doubt I was giving many thanks. She took a breather
just long enough to complain, "I have an _owee_ Daddy, could you kiss
it and make it feel better?" Then she swung a leg over and presented
me with as fine a feast as I've ever seen. I couldn't really see it very
well in the dark, but lord could I smell it. At that my final reserves
came crumbling down. It's a strange kind of affliction, and I'm _sure_
I'm unique in this respect. But a cunt lush and open in invitation is an
offer I've never been able to resist. I reached up to grab her hips and
pull her to me, but I was acting prematurely. Melissa got settled in her
position and then plummeted herself directly down upon my face. I
grabbed her hips anyway, locking her to my lips. Her lips were plump
and swollen; my tongue parting them breached the dam and set the
sweet juices just flowing. Just the texture alone of her labia was
enough to make me loose control. Not that her tongue was helping
matters at all. Old Faithful blew right on schedule and in my frenzy I
attacked her counterpart in kind, sucking and licking her clit like it
was my penis and my mouth was hers. I couldn't hear a sound of her
satisfaction and I doubted she could hear any of mine. Lissa's thighs
went squeezing my ears while she ground herself down. We were each
facefuls of fluids; we hardly needed the soundtrack. I could hear her
thunder in my bones and feel the waves of rippling flesh under my
hands.
Eventually Melissa relaxed her hips and let me gasp for air. I expected
the rest of her would relax, but I was expecting wrong. She just kept
sucking away like the hungriest baby ever born. I thought to play
Daddy the Teacher, and explain _after a man's blown like that he has to
recover for awhile_. I was about to mumble some words to that effect
when suddenly I started feeling the effect having an effect. A coaxing
hand was caressing my balls when a slick finger slipped up my ass
without so much as an introduction.
_Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!_ I think I cried. It was a fitting homage. He
was the guy who raised the dead, right? Well, never in my life had I
sprung back to life so quickly.
Lissa swiveled on top of me and we were face to face, mouth on mouth,
tongues twining. Then she rolled us both over. "Daddy, can you help
me? Your little girl's pussy is so alone and empty."
I still had no idea where any of this was coming from, but I sure knew
where it was going. The nasty angle was becoming fast terribly
exciting. "Does my little Princess want to _feel_ the royal scepter." I
felt like I was reading a really cheap and sleazy sex story, but to judge
from the whimper of her response I had spoken the perfect set of
words. Just a nudge of my hips sent the tip of me inside her private
world. After that I was in for the pound. I've always been partial to
women who combust with the first strike of my match. I waited for the
rest of her senses to return, the slid slowly all the long way deep
inside her.
"Oh god, Daddy, _yes!_ Do _it_. Do it to _me_. _Do_ me. Do me
_now!_"
I've always had a hard time denying a request from Melissa. It was oh
so very nice to be having a hard time not denying her request. And
there I was, doing my best as the sensible side of my brain screamed,
_you're fucking your own daughter!_ So perhaps it was my worst, but
another part of me was soothing, _so what? you're even, because your
daughter is certainly fucking you!_ Sure enough, she was meeting and
matching my every thrust. With gusto. With fury and frenzy. I
thought at this rate I'd soon be a goner again. But then I felt her
start to shudder. I gritted my teeth and willed myself control. _Ride
this out_, I kept chanting, _and then you'll get a rest_. Melissa went
_wailing_, turned rigid, then softened into a pillow. I relaxed down
against her, panting but saved, ready to participate some more.
At last she drew a deep breath. "God how I used to dream of this
every night a dozen years ago. I mostly gave it up because I didn't
think I've ever get you to let my dreams come true. Bet you didn't
know I used to spy on you guys sometimes. And _how_ I wanted those
to be _my_ legs locked around your waist. _Just once_, I used to moan,
_god_ just once let that be _me_."
"So how do you like finally getting to have your one bite of forbidden
fruit?"
"Mmmm," she arched her back in a big purr, "best thing I've _ever_
tasted. And I never said it _had_ to be just _once_. Hmmm?" She
asked the question even more bluntly, sending her pelvis rocking and
her legs wagging in and out. Oh my! If I wanted to last, I had to do
something fast to stop her from doing all that. I held my breath and
plunged all the way in, full force, pinning her to the mattress. Melissa
didn't seem to mind that in the least. "_Yes!_" she called out to the
world, "you can do this to me all night long."
"Oh no I can't. Or else it's going to shortest night on record."
"Oh don't you worry. We can take it nice and slow." She just gazed
up at me so sweetly, then giggled, "God, besides, one more like that last
one and I'll be more than set for the night."
This sounded like a plan to me. We kissed and stroked each other and
with me buried deep inside her just sort of let our crotches lightly
bump and nuzzle each other. But then in a flash Lissa's eyes went
wide and she screamed, "_Oh my god!_ Where is this coming from?"
Okay, change of plans. Not slow but _super fast_. She was bucking up
against me like crazy, her cunt was _sucking_ my cock, so I went
slamming in and out of her like a man possessed. Which is exactly what
I was.
As with all men and women we were riding on separate trains. But we
sure pulled into the station together. The weather that had passed was
nothing compared to the storm that exploded inside. There was ball
lightning bouncing around the walls of that cabin. Thunder booming
and torrents washing down. When we finally collapsed it was like we
were melting together. We were soaked from head to toe. We kissed
like moths fluttering against bulbs and rolled slowly onto our sides,
staying engaged. We'd fried every wire in the parts of our brain
governing consciousness. The very last sensations I had before sliding
into sleep were that of my shrunken member slipping from her grasp.
And then the most contented dreamy little sigh I'd ever heard. I
moaned my own agreement before going under.
I woke up with a start, the way you do when you feel something
studying you. It's an animal instinct, sensing some other animal poised
to pounce and devour you. It really is about the most disconcerting
way to wake up. I opened my eyes, and the first they saw were
Melissa's, wide open and staring at mine. Her head cocked up on a
pillow. The glow of full morning was washing over us. I gained a few
minutes of thought while my eyelids did that slow brushing up and
down, the gesture of a butterfly drying its wings when fresh from the
chrysalis.
"Morning, Princess, how you feeling?" I slurred.
"Oh," her voice went tiny into a fragile register, "I've certainly felt
better."
Oh boy. Did I suddenly feel like the original bucket of slime. I hadn't
been the one to lead the dance of the night before, but, really, I should
have been the one to decline the sway. _You stupid bastard!_ I was
roaring to myself, _you've gone and ruined one of the best things in
your life._ Stuff like this before coffee, no wonder mornings are world
renowned as evil.
"But," she continued with a little smirk, "I expect I'll feel better than
ever before very long." At that a hand of hers dropped down between
my legs. My morning erection had shriveled to a slug just moments
before, but at her first touch it bloomed like a banana growing in a
time-lapse film. Lissa rose up and swung herself over me and then
sank right on down. We were without words. There wasn't any of that
Daddy/Daughter naughty nonsense of the night before. In the fresh of
the morning we were man and woman simply doing what man and woman
do best. She smiled down at me wordlessly, lustfully, as she rose up,
holding me just by the head of myself in her sweet slippery grip before
plunging back down. Good god but I was a man by the name of Mr.
Groan. Ms. Moan leaned forward, offering my mouth its choice of
breasts. And what a heavenly choice! What primitive creatures we
humans are. _Evolve_, damn it, _evolve!_ I needed _two_ mouths.
That's how hungry I was. Melissa made sure we were both well-fed,
several times, and that was long before breakfast.
She left me lingering over coffee with a long tongue twisting kiss, her
eyes sparkling as she went out to inspect the damage to the island from
the storm. Eventually I took my mug and a chair to sit out in the sun.
Get a good look at my beautiful world. A gorgeous day in the making.
I could see the evidence of a tree down, and was sorry to see it go,
but marked the spot in my consciousness as next year's supply of
firewood.
As well of course I was contemplating the changes wrought by our own
peculiar storm. Definitely no damage done there! As for the
permanence in any of it, well, that remained to be seen. I had no
intention of trying to force anything. If Melissa's good morning was a
playfully thanking goodbye for the goodnight, so be it. I could feast
off the memories forever, and really there would be no need to alter
any emotions because it was all so new that none had developed. It was
akin to finding an envelope of money on the ground. You thumb
through it in a big thirsty rush, but if you discover some tag of
identification then you give it back. The reward may be intangible, but
you smile nonetheless. If this was to continue, then there were the
obvious logistics to consider, the circumventions to orchestrate. That as
well was out of my hands. My co-conspirator had always been terribly
good with details.
Melissa came sprinting over the rise from the beach, flapping her wings
and squawking the news, "Daddy, Daddy, the boat is _gone!_" She lept
and slung herself into my lap facing me.
"Oh yea?" I replied as steadily as I could under her squirming
enthusiasm. "I guess the storm washed it away?"
Melissa straightened up with a broad smile. "Yea. _Maybe_."
=========================
Like? Yes? No? Comments welcome. losgud@hotmail.com
=========================
I am archived at DejaNews under the "Author" name:
lushgod@hotnomail.com
======
ISLAND
losgud
-30-
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