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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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WARNING!
This text file contains sexually explicit
material. If you do not wish to read this
type of literature, or you are under age,
PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
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Archive name: wrecker.txt (mf, inc, husb, cheat, ped)
Authors name: Phil Phantom (Address Withheld)
Story title : Little Home Wrecker
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This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 1998.
Please do not remove the author information or make
any changes to this story. You may post freely to non-
commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of
commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration.
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AUTHOR WARNING!
The following story is an uncensored sexual fantasy
involving practices that are illegal, immoral, socially
unacceptable, and messy. Only mature adults with a
firm grasp on reality should venture further.
Little Home Wrecker
By Phil Phantom
The bed rocked gently but steadily as I lay curled on
my side next to my husband of fourteen years. He lay
likewise, but in the opposite direction. We were back
to back, not touching. The situation had become
familiar, painfully so.
We were not alone in our bed. Curled up spoon fashion
with Dan was our twelve-year-old daughter, Sarah. Dan
sleeps in the nude, as does Sarah. The rocking gra-
dually built in tempo and intensity until it could not
be ignored. In weeks past they would not permit them-
selves to lose control and waited mercifully until they
thought I was fast asleep. Each time, they began
earlier and became more obvious until I found myself
being gently rocked shortly after retiring and rudely
jostled after only ten or fifteen minutes.
I lay with tightly clenched jaws having to feel the
rhythm of sexual passion slowly building; having to
hear the obscene wet noises and the bed's cry of,
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" I had to smell the heavy
sensual musk wafting up from under the covers.
It was the heady smell of incest that prevented sleep.
The product of our love which gestated in my womb now
stealing that love ounce by ounce, and doing so within
arm's reach, doing so with a voracious appetite that
left nothing for me, not a seminal scrap did she leave.
As I lay thinking, I remembered the days of bounty,
when that special fluid ran like ambrosia from an
endless spring. I could feast at my whim and often
choose to abstain. I had semen to waste. I had head-
aches on demand, and the bed rocked to the rhythm of
his hand. He cleaned the waste or slept in the stain.
There was semen aplenty for me when I pleased. Those
were the good old days of months ago, before Sarah
returned to her childhood practice of sharing our bed.
And now I kept track on a private calendar, marking
the days between.
It was sweet revenge, plain greed, or just selfish
need, but the endless sperm fountain was drying up for
me. In our early years, I never went more than three
days without sex. At first, the days between came in
batches of three and four, then five and six, then
full weeks. The latest was the first full month, an
anniversary of sorts. They'd grown careless or just
plain insensitive over time. I wanted to roll over,
reach between Dan's legs, squeeze his balls, dig my
nails in deep, and say, "Happy anniversary, dear!"
I rolled onto my back to let them know I was not
asleep. My bare hip touched Dan's naked ass. This
slowed him only momentarily. Soon, I could feel his
ass muscles tighten and move, I could feel his thrusts,
feel them fucking, committing incest in my marital bed.
He knew I was awake; and still, he continued unabated.
I rolled all the way over and pressed my front to his
back. He ignored my presence, the bastard. I rested
my hand on his hip and dug my nails where I gripped.
He removed my hand with a stronger grip, never breaking
his rhythm. He thrust it away, overt rejection.
This hurt me deeply. I returned my hand, gently, sub-
missively, and rested it lightly where it had been. My
hand followed his motion as I snuggled closely bringing
my lips to his ear. In a gentle, soft whisper, I
pleaded, "Dan, don't do this to me."
He continued. I said, "This is wrong. She's just a
child. She's our daughter." As if in reply, his
thrusts became stronger, going deeper, a moan escaped
her lips, a moan that should have been mine.
My hand moved ever so carefully over his hip and dipped
low, searching. I steadily converged on the point
where the crime was being committed. His lunges pushed
my hand against Sarah's tight little ass, my wedding
ring lightly scratched her flawless skin. The warm
wetness told me I was close, wet curls, then a shaft
of pulsing meat. I curled my fingers around the base
and he shoved them against my daughter's stretched
vulva. Again and again he insulted my grasp, fucking
major fingers to a minor cunt.
I squeezed gently, massaging the shaft, feeling the
loose skin slide along the stiff rod beneath. Sarah,
the slut, hiked her leg to let me know that she was
aware of my complicity. How could she not with her
father's hands full of budding tits. I unfurled my
traitorous fingers and traced delicate patterns over
her labia lips, clit, and tiny puckered anus. My
index finger ran circles around the place where father
entered daughter. Dan rolled them toward me until she
was lying on his belly on her back. I had to make
room.
Sarah yawned wide her sweet thighs, and I replaced my
hand coming in from above. Dan used his to slide her
by the tits, making her body rock onto his turgid
manhood. My fingers felt it all, and teased the unholy
union. Dan pulled the covers over my head.
The aroma of sex made me woozy. I pushed up on my
right arm, making a tent of our bedding over the site
of infidelity. On and on, they rocked, pouring out
their wetness on my hand, assaulting my nostrils with
lusty scent. A manly hand clenched a handful of hair
at the back of my head and squeezed. Pressure bent my
head down.
My lips touched Sarah's moist and tawny skin above her
navel, tasting her salty sweetness. My lips planted
tender kisses wherever the pressure directed. The
pressure pushed me lower and my kisses covered tiny
hairs, curly hairs, hairs divided by a valley, then
silky-smooth hot membrane flesh, then a shaft of man
meat on the move. Still, I kissed the place where
father and daughter merged. I kissed the place where
a husband violates his vow. I kissed the place where
I should have been by every law of nature and society.
I kissed away my rights.
Those kisses became licks. Those licks became sucks.
The licking and sucking continued after the hand went
away. They continued long after Dan's seed shot down
the tube. They continued after he pulled out. They
continued until I drank ambrosia from a new well.
The licking and sucking continued as the second monthly
anniversary rolled around. They continued through the
third, fourth, and fifth. Everything changed after
that eventful night. The lights came on, the covers
were tossed off. Love making between them began with
my tongue teasing both. I became their instrument of
foreplay. My tongue followed them throughout the act
and cleaned them afterwards. I drank the seminal and
vaginal ambrosia until I thought I would burst. No
headache could relieve me of my duties.
When the calendar showed six weeks, I became moody,
bitchy, and depressed. I confronted my husband with
my needs, my rights, my rightful place in our family.
I threatened to cheat. I threatened divorce.
He threatened divorce as well, on the grounds that I
abused my daughter, offering her to men for money to
support my drug habit. I was appalled, especially when
Sarah confirmed her testimony. I recoiled and shrank
back. That afternoon, Sarah wanted my things out of
the master bedroom. I spent the afternoon making the
move, putting her shit where my stuff was, and putting
my stuff where her shit was. Her small bedroom became
my bedroom. The master bedroom was where the masters
slept.
Sarah enjoyed her new status as queen of the house. She
never lifted a finger. I was her personal servant. She
did not even bathe or attend her own toilet. I even
wiped her ass. Dan enjoyed watching Sarah putting me
through my paces. He delighted in watching her apply
his belt to my ass, thighs, or breasts for the slight-
est infraction, or simply to amuse herself. No pride
remained to celebrate the second month.
On the third, I licked a pregnant cunt. On the first
anniversary of their unholy union, my daughter pre-
sented me with a baby to look after. She nursed me
and the baby at her breasts. Sometimes, I nursed at
her clit while the baby had her breasts.
My life continued in this strange way until she moved
away. She left us with three kids to raise. She ran
off to see the world with a sailor. Dan let me move
back into the master bedroom, but made it clear there
was only one master there. Sarah's oldest just turned
eleven and she climbed into our bed last night. I
started a new calendar.
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
any way shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of
the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider
seeking professional help.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 9