("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                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!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text













Archive name: harper03.txt (MF/f, exh, inc, rough)
Authors name: Filthy Fiction (filthyfiction@hotmail.com)
Story title : Harper Valley USA - 3 The Promise

--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author (c) 2003.  Please
don't 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.
--------------------------------------------------------
 
Harper Valley USA - 3 The Promise (MF/f, exh, inc, rough)
by Filthy Fiction (filthyfiction@hotmail.com)

*** 

This is the third chapter of what will be a continuing 
series depicting the melodramatic sexual adventures of a 
typical suburban family. For those who enjoy pantyhose 
stories, this series will focus heavily (though, not 
totally) on that particular fetish, as well as the 
obvious incest themes.

Each chapter will be written predominantly from the point 
of view of one member of the family. The content of this 
chapter is a bit rough, with a male dominant tone, but 
still falls within the parameters of consensual sex.

Disclaimer: The following story is a work of fiction 
containing graphic descriptions of sexual acts between 
adults and minors. While all of the sex depicted is 
consensual, the author does not intend to promote incest 
or sexual relations with underage children. The story is 
written purely for entertainment purposes only. Those who 
are offended by such material are strongly encouraged not 
to read this.

This is the third chapter of what will be a continuing 
series depicting the melodramatic sexual adventures of a 
typical suburban family. For those who enjoy pantyhose 
stories, this series will focus heavily (though, not 
totally) on that particular fetish, as well as the 
obvious incest themes.

Each chapter will be written predominantly from the point 
of view of one member of the family.

We hope you enjoy it. Please send your comments and 
suggestions.

Your friends at Filthy Fiction... 

Story codes: (M/F, M/f, F/f, inc, family, Mdom, rough 
sex, pantyhose, rimming, cum, spit play, oral, voy, exh, 
bi, mast, slow, plot, cons, rom)


Harper Valley USA
By Filthy Fiction

Chapter Three: No Excuses


Greg Harper rolled his maroon Infiniti up the driveway, 
his body weary from another exhausting day at the office. 
His presentation on third quarter revenues had gone 
horribly. Maybe it was just his nerves over speaking in 
front of the entire board of executives. 

Then again, it was probably just Elise Ambrose from 
marketing who kept crossing her legs and dangling her 
shoes through the whole meeting. Didn't she know what 
that did to him? Apparently not, Greg thought, as he 
hoisted his six-foot frame out of his sporty new import. 

How was he supposed to justify why profits were dropping 
with his cock pointing to the ceiling like an arrow? So 
what if net revenues were at an all-time low, all Greg 
wanted to know was who let this woman sit up front. Why 
couldn't she keep her legs still for more than two 
seconds? Didn't she know that he could hear that swish 
every time her nylons brushed together? Obviously not, 
Greg thought, as he treaded down the stone pathway. 

Greg realized his job was in jeopardy, but he was trying 
hard not to think about that. The numbers didn't lie. 
Sales were plummeting. Someone would have to take the 
fall. Middle management was usually the first to go. As 
director of client relations, Greg figured his head would 
surely be on the chopping block. 

Still, it hardly mattered as he peacefully approached his 
front door. All he needed was a hot meal, a cold beer and 
the sight of his lovely wife and daughter each wearing 
something sinful to chase all his blues away.

"Screw the job," said Greg, under his breath. He smiled 
as he silently reminded himself that other men would do 
anything to have his life. In the span of one year, what 
had started as a semi-innocent comment to his wife had 
evolved into the most exhilarating stage of their whole 
relationship. 

After 16 years of marriage, Greg considered it a miracle 
that he and Shelly were still together. Most of his male 
colleagues had already moved on to their second and third 
wives. Greg had no such foolish notions. In his mind, he 
had already married the perfect woman. She was strong, 
loving, supportive and mind-numbingly sexy. 

Her all-American beauty could rival any country music 
star, while her hourglass figure could easily compete 
with any hot young centerfold. In the bedroom, (or 
anywhere else, for that matter) Shelly got better and 
wilder with age. There was no length to which she would 
not go just to keep her man happy. 

As a couple, Greg and Shelly had been swapping partners 
off and on practically since college. The swingers club 
they had joined six years before had lost much of its 
original appeal. Old friends had chosen to move on, 
leaving Greg and Shelly to break in new members, with 
whom they often felt little connection. They were all 
just so young, Greg thought, one day, as he lay out by 
the pool watching his daughter have a swim. 

As he mulled it over, he realized it wasn't their age 
that bothered him. He didn't care that they were young. 
He just hated that they were so rude and unsophisticated. 
Standards for membership had obviously dropped severely. 
Each crop of unwashed rookies got dumber and more bizarre 
than the last, with their odd slang, poor hygiene, 
numerous piercing and tattoos. Yet, as Greg approached 
40, nothing made him feel more youthful and revitalized 
than being around younger people. 

At 14, Greg's blossoming daughter had a trim willowy body 
that had only just begun to ripen. Out of nowhere, her 
modest chest had sprouted tits, round and full enough to 
squeeze with both hands. In those days, there was no rule 
prohibiting him from masturbating, but Greg knew his wife 
wouldn't be pleased to discover that he was secretly 
jerking off without her. Even so, when Tiffany strolled 
out for an afternoon dip in a tiny blue tanktop and 
yellow undies, Greg was helpless to control himself. 

As she languidly rose from the cool crystal waters, and 
carelessly dripped all over the patio, her petrified 
nipples stood out like tent poles, pitching from her 
watery T-shirt. With no bra holding anything back, her 
floppy tits jumbled to and fro until Greg almost went 
cock-eyed. He sprang from his lounge chair, dashed into 
the bathroom and throttled his raging python until it 
spit venom all over the bathroom sink. As he ran the 
faucet to rinse away the evidence, he closed his eyes, 
took a long, soothing breath and surrendered to the 
wicked inspiration whispering what needed to be done. 

After another day watching his blissfully ignorant, yet 
lusciously pubescent daughter prance around wearing next 
to nothing, Greg only needed 24 hours to work up his 
nerve. He tested his wife with an off-handed remark about 
Tiffany's obvious development. Shelly was far too smart 
and way too filthy in her own mind to miss what her 
husband was implying. The hungry leer in his lusty green 
eyes told her exactly what she had to do. With no shock 
or shame whatsoever, she cunningly set her plan in 
motion. 

Tiffany wanted new clothes for her first year of high 
school, so Shelly already had the perfect ruse to begin 
her seduction. Most mothers don't take their daughters 
back-to-school shopping at Victoria's Secret. Still, 
after buying a half-dozen crop tops, miniskirts and low-
rider jeans, Shelly felt her daughter could use some more 
grown-up undergarments. Shelly had Tiffany try on several 
different kinds of bras, all with matching thongs. 
Tiffany didn't look terribly confident at first, but as 
Shelly heaped on the praise, Tiffany slowly forgot 
everything and started pretending she was a supermodel. 

It was in that dressing room, as Tiffany modeled a purple 
mesh bra and panty set, where Shelly made the first move. 
Greg remembered Shelly later describing how easy it had 
been. The first kiss was rather awkward, stiff really. 
Then, Tiffany said something like, "Is this really 
happening?" to which Shelly answered with a second kiss 
that lasted for several moist and tender minutes. 

A week later, they rented a suite with a hut tub and a 
bottle of champagne. Shelly let Tiffany drink alcohol off 
her breasts. A week after that, Greg joined them for the 
first time. Tiffany wasn't ready for intercourse. Greg 
didn't try to force her. He enjoyed seeing her gawking 
expression as she boggled to figure out how she would 
even manage to get her hands around his beefy slab. 

Shelly coached her so patiently. Tiffany soaked up every 
word. A week later, she was drinking her father's cum. A 
week after that, Greg finally broke her cherry. Once 
Jonathan had been lured into the fray, everything 
changed. Greg and Shelly discovered the joy of swinging 
at home. 

Greg reflected on all of this as he opened the front door 
of his two-story peach-and-white house. He thought of 
Shelly, with her sunlit blonde hair, vivid blue eyes, 
large pillowy breasts and sculpted marble legs. Then, he 
pictured the rousing image of his young malleable 
daughter, with her pearly smile, balsa wood complexion 
and lean wiry legs. If Shelly was already the perfect 
woman, Greg thought to himself, it was just a matter of 
time before Tiffany would become her twin.

As he stepped in, Greg noted his son on the floor with 
his eyes glued to the television. He set down his 
briefcase, slipped off his shoes and loped over to sofa 
as he loosened his necktie.

"Hey, Dad," Jonathan said, slouched on the floor, playing 
Tekken or Mortal Kombat or something like that. His 
father never knew for sure.

Greg flopped on the couch and smirked as one computer-
animated character pulverized another. He was 
disappointed that he hadn't smelled anything cooking when 
he came in.

"Where's your mother?" Greg said abruptly.

"In the shower," his son answered, never turning his 
head. "With Tiffany."

Greg nodded. His stomach would have to be patient. He 
noticed that Shelly had left her high heels behind. He 
picked one up, held the black leather shoe under his nose 
and took a sniff. His dick stirred in his slacks.

"So, how was school?" he asked. Jonathan just shrugged.

"Okay, I guess. Still haven't got a good peek at my 
teacher's panties."

"No?" Greg said, with genuine interest. "How hard have 
you been trying?"

"Pretty hard," his son said. "This morning, I saw her 
walking up the stairs, so I followed her to the third 
floor. I almost got a good look. I'm pretty sure they 
were pink, but it was hard to tell." 

"Was her skirt really that short?"

"Uh huh," Jonathan nodded readily. "Just like Mom wears. 
I'm pretty sure it's against school rules, but she does 
it all the time."

"Hmm," said Greg, with increasing interest. "What's her 
name again?"

"Miss Collins," Jonathan said. "She's my English teacher. 
Kind of young, short, reddish-brown hair. Small tits, but 
really pretty. Like that lady on that home show Mom 
watches."

"Trading Spaces," Greg replied.

"Yeah," said Jonathan. "She looks a lot like her."

Greg paused. The thought of Paige Davis hardened his cock 
completely. If this teacher looked anything like that, 
then a parent-teacher conference would have to be 
arranged promptly. When Greg realized he was lost in 
thought, he blurted out the first question that came to 
his head.

"Nice legs?"

Jonathan thought for a second. "Not as nice as Mom's," he 
answered. "But she does like to wear short skirts and 
tight jeans. I've never seen her in pantyhose though. 
Maybe she doesn't like them."

"Maybe not," said Greg, almost whispering to himself. 
"But people change."

By then, Jonathan had already tuned his father out. Greg 
stood up and started his weary stroll down the hall. The 
sound of rushing water grew louder as Greg entered the 
bedroom. His daughter's clothing was strewn all about the 
floor: red top, red skirt, white socks and sneakers, 
along with his wife's coral miniskirt. There were voices 
coming from the master bathroom.

He didn't recognize words, only moans and whispers. He 
followed the noises that led him toward the shower. He 
didn't bother to remove his shoes, as he felt no need to 
conceal his presence. He gripped the curtain and slid it 
all the way back.

His wife stood with her legs spread and her hands flat 
against the wall. Water sprayed against her angled back, 
then streamed over her naked ass. Her wet matted 
pantyhose had been ripped wide open. Her butt was 
completely exposed. His daughter knelt below, both hands 
spreading her mother's buns. 

Sparkling water trickled down the narrow crack between 
his wife's cheeks. His daughter leaned forward to let the 
water fill up her mouth. She pressed her lips flat 
against the little rosebud and spit right on it. Her 
tongue chased every drop. His wife threw her head back 
and groaned as her hand slapped the wet tile.

Shelly and Tiffany were well aware that Greg was 
watching. Shelly was too lost in her own pleasure to 
acknowledge him right away. She seemed to take some 
unspoken delight in ignoring and performing for him at 
the same time. Tiffany also chose not to speak. She 
greeted him with a devilish curl from the corner of her 
mouth. Her blue eyes twinkled as her tongue snaked around 
her mother's asshole.

"Is this is a private party?" said Greg, leering down at 
his daughter's wet face.

"Yes, very private," his daughter answered, smiling. 
"Strictly family."

"Sounds perfect," Greg said, with a short glance over to 
his wife. Shelly grinned. Greg lowered his head toward 
Tiffany. "Is there a dress code?"

"Nope," his daughter answered, face level with his 
crotch. "I just need to see your invitation."

Greg fixed his eyes on Shelly as he casually reached for 
his zipper. She turned, facing him, so the water now 
trickled off her breasts. She pawed at her own body, one 
hand squeezing her tits, while the other sank to her 
pussy, fervently rubbing her itchy clit. 

Tiffany knelt reverently by the edge of the tub. She 
anxiously leaned toward her imposing father and 
breathlessly followed the calm descent of his steady hand 
as he carefully unlocked those jagged metal teeth. Her 
chest sharply heaved on sight of his monstrous cock, head 
flaring and veins bulging with menace as it savagely 
reached through his open fly. Her shoulders slumped, her 
eyes dimmed and her mouth slowly yawned in submission.

"Here's my invitation," said Greg, using his pelvic 
muscles to taunt his daughter as his cock bounced and 
flexed away from her open and all-too-eager mouth. "But 
you know something," he added tauntingly. "I'm not sure 
you deserve it." 

Tiffany quivered. "Why not?"

"For one thing," Greg mildly explained. "You're not 
wearing pantyhose, so you've broken rule number four." 

Tiffany bowed shamefully. Greg yanked her by the hair. 
Tiffany squeaked as her head snapped back. 

"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Greg snarled 
through gritted teeth. Tiffany's frightened pupils jumped 
straight out. Greg pinned her head back and sneered over 
her. "I work too hard at that god damn office to come 
home and have to repeat myself every fucking week. Now 
let me ask you a question," he growled. "Are you 
listening?"

The stranglehold on her wet ponytail restrained her from 
nodding. She mumbled softly, "Mm hmm." Greg chafed. He 
expected direct answers to direct questions. A hard slap 
ripped across her face. Tiffany yelped. The sting made 
her eyes water. Shelly held her breath. Greg slit his 
eyelids and slowly enunciated.

"I said...are you listening?"

Tiffany spoke up. "Yes. Yes, sir, I'm listening."

"Were you hoping to suck my cock tonight?"

"Yes," she said truthfully. "Like always. I love your 
cock, Daddy. You know I love your cock."

Greg paused. "Were you hoping to drink my cum, too?"

"Yes!" Tiffany cried. "All of it, Daddy. All of your hot 
cum." 

"Really?" He said, hoisting his thick shaft and dragging 
it across her lips. "Then let me ask you this." Tiffany 
closed her eyes. She dared not stick out her tongue no 
matter how good the warm head felt against her moist 
lips. "What makes your Daddy cum more than anything?"

Tiffany quickly answered, "Pantyhose. You like when I 
wear pantyhose."

"Good," her father replied. "I'm glad we understand each 
other. So why aren't you wearing them for me?"

"Because..." Tiffany started in her whiny voice. A second 
slap scorched her reddened cheek. 

"No excuses!" Greg blasted. Shelly stepped forward.

"Honey, maybe I can ex..." 

"Not now, Shelly," Greg said. "This isn't about you. This 
is about Tiffany being accountable for her own actions. 
When Jonathan breaks the rule, we call him on it. This is 
no different."

Shelly stepped back. Perhaps, she felt guilt over 
smothering her son earlier. For whatever reason, she kept 
her mouth shut. She watched as Greg proceeded with his 
unique method of slut training.

"Now," he said, firmly scowling in his daughter's teary 
face. "What are you going to do when you leave this 
bathroom?"

Tiffany raised her chin and sniffled. "Put on some 
pantyhose, Daddy."

"Again!"

"Put on some pantyhose, Sir!"

"Why?"

"So you'll feed me lots of cum."

"What else?"

"And call me your little pantyhose slut."

"Do you like it when I call you that?"

"More than anything, Daddy."

"Tell me why."

"Because that's what I am, Daddy."

"Excellent," Greg said. "Now, here. Put this fucking 
thing in your mouth."

Tiffany promptly dropped her jaw wide open. Greg watched 
as Tiffany struggled to fasten her contorted lips around 
the bloated head and then gradually inch-worm her way 
down the daunting length of his shaft. Greg wanted his 
daughter to feel it as her vacant mouth was slowly 
impregnated by the hulking girth of his throbbing hard 
sperm pump. 

As Greg began sawing his hips back and forth, Tiffany 
held still as the bumpy foreskin scraped against her 
delicate tongue. Her humid mouth instinctively flooded 
with sloppy drool. She whorishly slathered his throat-
clogging sausage with nasty egg-white phlegm. 

Foamy spit bubbles spewed from her bottom lip, issuing 
like lava down his jagged shaft, then hanging from his 
hairy nuts in sticky gossamer webs. Tiffany let all her 
spit dribble out, spilling and dripping all over her 
glistening tits. It wasn't that Greg told her not her 
swallow. She was simply sucking him exactly the way she'd 
been taught, the way her mother showed her. 

She lowered her mouth further down the shaft, pushing 
herself to the choking point. She gurgled and gagged 
repeatedly, but never let up. Tears streamed down both 
sides of her face. Just when Greg thought she would have 
to come up for air, he felt the loose swivel of her 
frantic revolving head, combined with delirious moans. 

Her fluttering tongue tingled against his sensitive 
glans. Her mouth overflowed. She fucked her own throat 
like a whore needs cash, letting the neglected strands of 
stringy saliva wiggle off her chin, snap and then 
splatter on the floor. Not once did the girl swallow. Her 
twisting mouth vacuumed. Greg bucked when he felt her 
head bob, swivel and bob.

"Ohhh shit!" he groaned, throwing his head back with new 
appreciation. "Fuck yeah! That's right, Angel," he told 
her. "That's my good little slut. Keep sucking that cock 
for Daddy! Keep it nice and wet! God damn, that's good!" 
He looked up and saw his wife staring intently. "She's 
really starting to take after you, honey."

Shelly smiled. She watched as Tiffany slavered all over 
her father's thick schlong. There was pride in her eyes, 
seeing the way her daughter had obviously been studying 
her form. A proper blowjob had to be messy, Shelly 
preached. A real woman relished having her mouth stuffed 
with cock. Fucking a dry mouth was like fucking a dry 
pussy. Wetter was always better. 

Greg also thought about wetness. He wondered if Shelly 
could distinguish between the waters streaming from the 
shower and the wetness leaking from her runny cooze. She 
set one foot on the side of the tub, then leaned back and 
let the surging water strike her directly on the clit. 
She bit hard on her bottom lip as a searing climax 
violently ripped through her. 

Greg watched as she quietly shuddered through each 
rollicking tremor, short breaths halting from her open 
mouth. As her eyes finally crept open, Greg stood there 
mesmerized. She held his gaze with the bewitching mystery 
of her hazy blue eyes. Greg had no power to look away. 

As much as he craved his young slutty daughter, there was 
something magical about his wife that no one else could 
match. Greg always felt this way whenever he watched 
Shelly cum.

As Shelly came down from her orgasmic high, she reached 
over and set her hand on Tiffany's head. Tiffany kept 
working her father's meat, rocking her head back and 
forth, slurping and gurgling with pleasure.

"She's definitely a fast learner," Shelly said, reaching 
to turn off the water. As the shower stopped, Shelly 
turned to see Tiffany's lips firmly glued to the head of 
Greg's shovel-headed knob. She snatched Tiffany by the 
hair and wrenched her daughter's head back, smiling 
obscenely as Tiffany pouted from the sudden deprivation.

"I just thought you could use some more spit," Shelly 
said, pooling warm fluid in her half-opened mouth, then 
feeding the gooey line down to Tiffany's wagging tongue 
in one long, wiggly rope. Tiffany flattened her long pink 
tongue as her mother's drool settled to form a nice 
lukewarm puddle. She held it there briefly, then stirred 
it and mixed it with her own juices. She spewed the whole 
glob in the palm of her hand and curled her tight fist 
around the bulbous crown of her father's distended cock. 

Warm sincerity echoed through her long, fluttering 
lashes. In her meekest tone, Tiffany gazed up at her 
father and begged sweetly, "Daddy, can I drink your cum 
now?"

Greg frowned at his daughter and answered, "No." He then 
snatched his wife, bent her over and stabbed his cock 
through her sloppy wet gash. Shelly folded at the waist, 
grabbed her ankles and hollered as Greg branded her with 
his scalding hot poker. Greg skewered his nine-inch rod 
all the way through her snug pussyhole. He reared back, 
grabbed Shelly by her pantyhose-covered thighs and 
crammed his thick cock balls deep up her narrow cunt.

"Unnghh!" Shelly grunted from the force of his hard 
penetration. "Oh, my God! Your cock is so fucking hard 
today, baby! Mmmmm, yes! Pound me with it, honey! Pound 
me with that hard cock!"

Greg obliged. He held tight and threw his whole back into 
it, thrusting with full force, as thighs noisily slapped 
against thighs. He peered down at Tiffany and hissed 
spitefully as he brutally grudge-fucked her mother.

"Do you see this, honey?" He snarled. "Do you see what 
I'm doing to your mother? This is how a good slut gets 
fucked. I bet you wish I was fucking you instead of her 
right now, don't you?"

Tiffany nodded desperately. "Will you, Daddy? Will you 
fuck me?"

"Hell no!" Greg shouted. "If you want to be Daddy's slut, 
then you have to obey Daddy's rules. Only good sluts get 
fucked. Now, sit there and watch."

Tiffany could only do as she was told. She sat up on the 
edge of the tub, with one foot in and one foot out. She 
leaned back against the wall, moistened her right fingers 
and placed her hand between the spread of her naked 
thighs. She slowly circled her flattened fingers against 
the nub of her pink clit. 

Her left hand moved across her bare chest where she 
pulled and worried her jutting right nipple. Her rotating 
fingers pressed harder and rubbed faster as she watched 
her mother get repeatedly impaled by her father's 
hammering tool.

Greg fixed his harsh focus on Tiffany. His glaring eyes 
were meant to remind her of her place. He may have been 
powerless at work, but no one would ride roughshod over 
him at home. Clearly, his wife understood this as she 
braced her hands up against the opposite wall and called 
out for Greg to fuck her and ram her slutty hole, begging 
to have her body completely abused. 

That was what he liked. This was his family. Shelly was 
his wife. Tiffany was his daughter. They belonged to him. 
Letting Jonathan fuck them too was simply Greg's way of 
instilling his son with enough confidence to run his own 
family likewise, once he became a father. 

"Daddy," Tiffany whined, as if begging to open her 
Christmas presents a day early. "Will you please let me 
drink your cum? I promise I'll never take off my 
pantyhose again."

"What made you take them off in the first place?"

Tiffany chewed her bottom lip. "They, umm..." She 
couldn't find the right words. If her father was this mad 
about her not wearing pantyhose, how would he react to 
knowing how close she had come to breaking her promise? 
Finally, she answered, "I spilled soda on them, so I had 
to take them off. They were all sticky."

"You should be more careful," he said. "We spend lots of 
money so you can have nice clothes. But that's still no 
excuse. You could have put on another pair."

Tiffany sighed. "I wanted to," she explained. "But Mom 
said..." She paused, taking a moment to reconsider. 
"You're right," she said. "I should have put on another 
pair." She left it at that.

"Now, you're learning," Greg said, slowly nodding. "Are 
you ready to swallow my load?"

Tiffany lit up like neon. "Oh, God yes!" She panted. Her 
hairless muff slurped in two fingers. Greg elated at the 
sheer desperation on her hungry face. Shelly obviously 
responded too. Greg could feel the muscles jolting as his 
wife's clamping pussy walls squeezed and contracted 
around his cunt-stretching cock. He pumped her until her 
screams and moans drowned out every other sound. 

Shelly wailed through her thunderous climax, head 
dropping and arms thrusting from her sides. The balls of 
her fists refused to open as she strained to make her 
clawing fingers spread apart. She sprang up and pressed 
hard against Greg's chest. Her head tossed over his 
shoulder. Greg mauled her breasts and pinched both 
nipples to the aching point. Shelly gasped, arching her 
back even harder. With her jaw hanging open, she quaked 
and quivered as another powerful wave shook her whole 
body, rushing through her pointed fingers and toes. 
 
Greg hastily pulled out and lunged toward his waiting 
daughter. She welcomed his honey-dripping cock with the 
moist tip of her flickering tongue. The smile she flashed 
clearly proved how much she enjoyed the flavor of her 
mother's pussy.

"Make me cum in your mouth," Greg ordered.

Tiffany looked equal to the task. She hawked up a thick 
gob of saliva, spat on her father's cock, then gripped 
the shaft and rigorously pumped it in her small squeezing 
fist. Her ravenous blue eyes and warm puppy-dog pants 
reminded Greg how much his little angel worshipped her 
father above all. The mere sight of his fully engorged 
man-meat melted away any hint of self-control his 
daughter might have had. 

While Jonathan's seven-inches was nice for his age, the 
glorious stature of Greg's vein-laden, crimson-headed, 
blood-swollen organ clearly set him in a class by 
himself. Through her soft, humble and entreating blue 
eyes, Greg knew his penis wasn't just larger than life. 
To Tiffany, it was life. 

As Greg felt her tiny hands rushing up and down his pole, 
doing all the shallow pumps and sudden twists that her 
mother showed her, he looked down and saw his baby girl 
seal her pink candy lips to the tip of his cock. 

Softly, the seal opened and Greg groaned as his daughter 
warmly engulfed five inches in her slippery mouth. Her 
lashes fluttered as her blue eyes lifted in search of 
approval. She suckled him sweeter than an infant. Greg's 
balls ignited.

"Oh sweetheart," he moaned. "You are a good girl. Daddy's 
slutty little girl. Oh fuck! I'm about to cum! Yes! Yes! 
Yes! Ohhh shit! Right in your pretty mouth, Angel! It's 
what you wanted, huh, sweetie? Drink it! Ohhh fuck! Drink 
Daddy's cum! Now, baby! OHHH FUCK! NOW! YES! NOW!" Greg 
shouted.

Tiffany clamped her thighs together as she trembled from 
the orgasm that hit her unexpectedly. Her mouth gaped 
open as Greg unloaded in a hot bubbling torrent of lumpy 
spunk. His cum spouted in clumps so chunky and thick that 
Tiffany had to chew it before she could funnel it down 
her throat.

Greg placed his hand on his daughter's head, flinching 
and groaning as Tiffany finished the job. Her dainty 
hands didn't stop stroking until Greg could see cum 
leaking from the corners of her mouth. Even then, she 
just used her fingers to scoop up the creamy butter and 
shove it back where it belonged. She beamed with a 
daughter's pride as she leaned back and calmly ingested 
Greg's tremendous wad in one smooth and rapturous gulp.

"My God," Shelly said, blinking from the other end of the 
tub. "I'm not sure even I could do that." 

Tiffany giggled. "It's only because Daddy made me wait so 
long for it. Plus, you still haven't made dinner."

"Maybe we should eat out tonight," Greg suggested. "How 
do you feel about pizza?"

"Did I hear something about pizza?" Jonathan said, as he 
suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorway. "Hurry up, you 
guys. I'm starving!"


  * *


The next morning, Tiffany woke up in her parent's bed, 
nestled comfortably between her naked mother and father. 
It was Saturday. She checked the clock. It read half past 
seven. She crawled out over her mother, as carefully as 
she could manage. She found her father's work shirt on 
the side of the bed and quickly pulled it on. The smell 
of his cologne made her smile and think fondly of her 
dear old man. 

She turned to see him snoozing peacefully, with his firm 
pecs, his sexy goatee and his full head of chestnut brown 
hair. If only she had met him when he was her age, 
Tiffany thought, then maybe she could have married him 
and been the mother of his children. Then again, to go 
back and change the past would mean never knowing the 
forbidden thrill of getting fucked by her own father.

Her face was still sore from the mark he'd left on her 
tender skin. It didn't bother her though. She knew he was 
right. There was no excuse for not following the rules. 
Everyone understood their role. Greg never failed to feed 
her as much cum as she wanted. Dressing properly was the 
least she could do. She thought of this as she saw 
herself in her parent's full-length mirror, admiring the 
sheen of the coffee brown pantyhose she had worn to 
dinner the previous night. 

Tiffany walked down the hall, then turned up the stairs, 
heading to her bedroom. She heard tapping sounds coming 
from her brother's bedroom which was just beside hers. 
She peeked in to see what Jonathan was doing. Her brother 
was at his desk, wearing plaid boxers, typing on his 
computer. Tiffany walked right over, curled her arms 
around his shoulders and kissed his cheek.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Talking to this guy from Oregon," he explained, staring 
at the screen. "Are you still mad at me for bugging you 
about Adam yesterday?"

Tiffany rubbed her soft hands up and down his bare chest. 
"I should be," she answered. "But you're just so darn 
cute, I can't seem to stay mad at you for very long."

"That's good," he said, enjoying her touch. "I hate it 
when you hold a grudge. So, what's up? Are you still 
doing the car wash today?"

"Uh huh," she said, reading the screen over his shoulder. 
"Is this a chatroom?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool, too. I talk to people all over 
the world," he said, typing away. "So who's going to be 
there besides you and Shannon?"

"Why? So you can drool over all my friends?" Tiffany 
said, with a smirk. "Don't you get enough sex at home?"

"Sure," said Jonathan. "But Dad always says that you have 
to plan for a rainy day."

Tiffany rolled her eyes. "Give me a break, Johnny. Who is 
she?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the girl you want to meet at the car 
wash. I know you too well."

"Fine," he huffed, fingers pausing as he cocked his head 
sideways. "It's Ashley, okay. I didn't want to say 
anything because I know you think she's a bitch, but I 
can't help it. She's fucking hot."

Tiffany laughed. "Ashley," she snickered. "Are you high? 
She's completely out of your league. She only dates 
college guys with nice cars and lots of cash. There's no 
way she'd even look at you."

"Well, I know that," said Johnny. "But she did pick you 
for the squad. So she must like you enough to trust your 
opinion. I was just thinking you could put in a good word 
for me."

"A good word," Tiffany repeated, standing upright. "Like 
what? `Hey, Ashley, why don't you go out with my little 
brother? He's a really good fuck.' "

"Um, yeah, something like that."

"You really must be on something." Tiffany said, shaking 
her head. "If anyone at school ever found out about you 
and me, we would both be up shit's creek. I'm not about 
to risk that, just so you can hook up with Ashley 
Summers."

"C'mon, Tiff. I'm not stupid," said Johnny. "Of course, 
we can't just let anyone know about our family. All we 
need to do is get Ashley in a situation that she wouldn't 
want other people to know about. If everyone has 
something to hide, then everyone stays quiet. Don't you 
watch cable?"

"Not those gangster shows you watch," Tiffany sniffed. 
"But you might be on to something. So let's say that I do 
arrange a little get-together between you and her. What's 
in it for me?"

"Hmm," Jonathan pondered. "Let's say, I'll do all of your 
chores for a week and give you half of my allowance. 

Tiffany answered, "I don't want your money. But how about 
doing all my chores for a week, plus my math homework for 
two weeks...and you have to lick my pussy whenever I 
want."

Jonathan thought for a second. "Okay, that's cool. 
Although that last part I'd do anyway."

"I know," Tiffany said smiling. "I'm not trying to make 
this completely unpleasant. Besides, I'm kind of 
attracted to Ashley myself. If this works out, we could 
both have some fun."

"Hmmm," Jonathan muttered, smiling with approval, as he 
rubbed his hands together. "Now this is getting juicy."

To be continued...

Copyright@2003
Filthy Fiction

Send comments to filthyfiction@hotmail.com

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 23