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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2007.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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Midnight Mass
by Peter Pan (uds3@hotmail.com)

***

During this festive and family orientated period, a 
tale of incest may appear less than appropriate, 
especially as it interweaves traditional religious 
values and texts. I intend no offense to any readers 
and would hope there are those who can divine its true 
intent. A celebration above all else, of a man's all-
consuming love for his daughter no matter how he (or 
they) are eventually judged. (Mf, ped, inc, 1st, mast)

***

Church is no place to be thinking about sex, even less 
so incest, especially during the Christmas service, 
just four rows back from the altar, where the elderly 
Parish Priest is so fervently extolling the memory of 
the last supper.

"Take this all of you and eat it. This is my body which 
will be given up for you."

I should be contemplating the significance of the 
words, but I find myself glancing at my daughter's 
pretty face, the soft curve of those youthful breasts 
accentuated by her gentle breathing, as she kneels 
beside me, hands clasped together in erstwhile prayer.

"Take this all of you and drink from it. This is the 
cup of my blood, the new and everlasting covenant."

I find myself concentrating not on the Eucharistic 
prayer now, but rather, Lucy's slim hips and radiating 
vitality. As she turns momentarily to smile at me, some 
part of us touches and recognises the far-flung 
possibilities. 

Let us back-up a lifetime.

Lucy and I have always been close - more in what has 
been unsaid rather than spoken aloud. She is a soul-
mate. Even though she is eighteen now, the special bond 
we shared during her childhood has not slackened off. 
Rather, it has evolved into something almost tangible. 

An only child, she was but three years old when my wife 
died. Her very existence eased the pain of Nadia's 
passing and provided the focus I needed to overcome my 
grief. In a decade and a half not a solitary impure 
thought has crossed my mind so far as Lucy is 
concerned.

But then there was tonight.

Just an hour before we had to be at Our lady of The 
Rosary I picked Lucy up from a girlfriend's place where 
she had spent Christmas Eve, quite evidently quaffing 
the occasional alcoholic beverage. I say "quite 
obviously" on account of the fact she was still giggly 
and overly talkative. - traits she rarely exhibits.

It was as she sat in the car chatting animatedly that I 
realised how much I loved her and how much - to my on-
going discredit - I wanted her in ways other than those 
might be termed appropriate. 

"I love you dad," She had said, reaching across and 
holding my hand. In that instant, our destinies 
overlapped.

Even as the Priest intones the words, "Father, calling 
to mind the death your son endured for our 
salvation....." the images begin to form.

 Lucy stands at the foot of her bed seemingly unfazed 
by my close proximity. Removing her school back-pack 
she tosses it on the covers. I notice her tanned arms 
and legs as she turns her back to me momentarily, 
retrieving a purse from the pocket of her school-dress, 
that she then places on her work-desk nearby. I cannot 
fail to notice either the soft curves of her shapely 
bottom that are so clearly delineated for an instant. 

I seat myself on the edge of the bed and place my hand 
just above her hips. She still has her back to me even 
as I begin to smooth over those gentle rearward curves. 
She knows instinctively what pleases me and takes a 
step backwards so that I may better feel-up my field of 
dreams.

"You are so beautiful Lucy," I mutter, sliding both 
hands now across her taut little rear and cupping both 
cheeks, feeling plainly her panties beneath the school-
dress. Holding her around the hips I tug that warm 
little body towards me until she is sitting on my lap.

 Slipping my arms around her waist, my hands wander 
northwards searching out the illicit warmth of her 
teenage breasts. She makes no move to stop me, simply 
gasping softly as I begin to fondle those delicate 
mounds. I know she is watching as I begin undoing the 
top few buttons of her dress.

"Grant that we who are nourished by his body and 
blood...:"

The image fades and once again I glance down at the 
sweet-smelling youthful form alongside me. I must 
suppress these thoughts at all cost.

"....the apostles, the martyrs and all your saints upon 
whose constant intercession we rely for help."

My hand slips into the newly created air-space. I 
relish the contact with the frilly material, it 
represents the ultimate feminine tactility. Again the 
lightest of gasps as I cup her breasts through the 
yielding material, squeezing and caressing the softness 
beneath. Even as an embryonic moan rises in her throat, 
I incline my face to her shoulder and nuzzle her 
lovingly. Kissing her at the base of the neck, I feel 
her wriggle slightly on my lap, the warmth of her young 
body addling my senses. I slip a hand inside her bra 
cup and grasp what nature has been working so 
efficiently upon these last six years or so.

"Oh dad," she whispers, bringing her own hands up to 
cover mine, wholly complicit yet fully in acceptance of 
my actions. It requires a minimum of sensory 
recognition to acknowledge a hardening of her nipples 
within their padded rayon creche. My desire is rising 
like the Spring tide.

"and all the Bishops, with the clergy and the entire 
people your son has gathered here before you."

I look down at the Missal between my hands. My thoughts 
betray me and aware of the offense I am causing in this 
hallowed place, I replace it in the rack before me. 
Again Lucy glances in my direction and smiles so 
sweetly I can feel the onset of tears of emotion. I try 
to concentrate on the liturgy. 

"Welcome into your kingdom our departed brothers and 
sisters and all who have left this world in your 
friendship....."

Again my euchamenical surroundings fade as Lucy turns 
her pretty face towards me. Without hesitation I kiss 
her softly on the lips. I can see clearly now her 
exposed cleavage and the incestuous behavior of my 
hands as they roam freely the captive mountain range 
before me. I need to see that which I can feel.

Beginning now to rub her nipple between thumb and 
forefinger her kisses wholeheartedly match my own for 
passion and intensity. Her small hand seeks out the 
other breast, idly caressing it's focal point as 
together we inspire a mammarian celebration within the 
confines of those fleecy restraints.

Undoing the buttons to her waist almost, Lucy's 
slimline bra is revealed in all its tempting 
simplicity. I kiss her passionately as she matches my 
ardor with her own. As I slip the bra straps down her 
arms, encouraged by the fact that she is making no move 
to halt my progress, she once more teases me to 
distraction by perceptibly thrusting her breasts 
forward as I tug the material lower, relieving both 
cups of their protective duty.

We break off momentarily from our lip deliberations and 
look into each other's eyes. All understanding is 
there...no oratory required. Fully exposed now, her 
breasts stand out proudly, her nipples erect and in 
urgent need of a man's touch - a FATHER'S touch!

"Holy Holy Holy Lord, God of power and might." The 
obligatory words of the communal sanctus jolt me back 
to the real-time and I recite quietly, as does Lucy 
beside me,

 "Heaven and earth are full of your glory,
 Hosanna in the highest
 Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord,
 Hosanna in the highest."

Ahead of the Memorial Acclamation, the priest pauses at 
the altar.

Resting her arms on my shoulder her expression betrays 
just the slightest trepidation. My lips address her 
concerns and as I begin to draw down on her right 
nipple I cannot miss the sharp intake of breath or soft 
cry of pleasure resulting from my grossly indecent 
treatment of her young body. The milky scent afflicts 
my nasal passages and I draw down instinctively, 
recalling a child's primitive intimacies and the long 
forgotten suckling urge. As might a mother, she holds 
my head firmly against her breast willing me to take 
the nourishment that only the female body can provide.

Grasping her tightly around the waist I alternate my 
attentions between either nipple, suckling her and 
drawing sustenance, however imaginary, from her 
beautiful teats. I am aware of the soft moans that even 
now are escaping her lips. 

Pleasure begets pleasure however and discovering that 
my right hand has unintentionally I like to think, 
located the zipper at the side of her school-dress, I 
wonder just how far she is prepared to travel this 
night?

"Dying you destroyed our death, rising you restored our 
life."

The pew swims back into focus. Lucy still kneels beside 
me, frizzy hair trailing way off her shoulders - total 
innocence personified. So small, she barely comes up to 
my collar bone. I can barely comprehend her 
desirability, however illicit.

Sensing perhaps my scrutiny, she turns to me, those 
blue eyes of her transfixing me in captured 
understanding.

"What is it dad?" she whispers

"Nothing sweetheart," I reply, "I just love you silly 
that's all." She seeks out my hand momentarily and 
squeezes it.

"Through him, with him, and in him, in the unity of the 
Holy Spirit, all honor and glory is yours almighty 
Father, for ever and ever....amen!"

The zipper may have afforded less than six inches by 
way of side entry, but it was enough. At the angle she 
is sitting on my lap - almost side-saddle - just about 
any direction travelled has to bring my hand in close 
proximity to something seriously off-limits under 
normal circumstances. These however are anything but!

Almost immediately my fingers make contact with the leg 
elastic of her panties. I feel her stiffen and murmur 
softly "No dad...not there ....you shouldn't!"

"Interesting choice of words" I observe mentally. 
"Shouldn't" being way down the list from "can't" or 
"musn't." Inarguably I have not yet met with any 
physical resistance either. She lets out a small cry of 
surprise as my fingers encroach (admittedly topside) 
upon the skimpy panties themselves. 

How can I possibly convey the feelings I experience as 
I follow that curving road to the very brink of its 
angular descent between her thighs. Her sweet mouth is 
open slightly I notice and remains thus, as my finger 
follows that definitive indentation all the way down 
between her legs. I feel her part them slightly - the 
heat from her thighs enveloping the inbound visitors.

Using just my middle and index finger I begin to rub 
softly the front of the material. Fully unable to sit 
still, she begins to wriggle her hips in pleasured 
response. Now I figure is quite the best time to kiss 
her once more and in doing so, I confirm such strategy 
as being wise in the extreme. 

A small leap of faith admittedly but by slipping my 
fingers beneath those sexy little undies swiftly and 
without any advance notice, they find themselves on the 
instant, in a world of tropical delights. My tactile 
indulgencies deliver up the hitherto unknown fact that 
Lucy evidently trims her nether regions yet ensuring 
that sufficient of her girlish growth remains on hand 
to tease any intruder wishing to cross that final 
border. That there have been none until now, can never 
be in dispute.

Slipping dexterously between her moist folds, I waste 
no time in locating her clitoral hood, whereupon I 
commence a teasing program all my own. Even as I feel 
her hand approach the playing fields - perhaps to offer 
some token resistance, I step-up the friction and with 
her now audible moans reverberating around the bedroom, 
I bring her to the edge of a brave new world.

Transported by these newly come-by experiences, she is 
unaware just how spread her legs have become. I avail 
myself of the opportunity and ease her dress up until 
her panties are fully exposed. So absorbed is Lucy in 
her escalating pleasures, her eyes are closed and she 
is likely unaware of her fully indecent aspect or the 
fact that her bare breasts are rising and falling in 
sync with her irregular breathing status.

Her cleavage glistens with moisture as I bring her to a 
new plateau. Her body is trembling and those hips 
locked into the final countdown. The outcome is swift 
and decisive. As waves of pleasure engulf her small 
body, radiating outwards in direct proportion to her 
vaginal spasms, she cries aloud, "Ohhh unreal dad," 
clutching her pussy as she utters the words.

As the vision cruelly disintegrates, I hear the Priest 
once more.

"Let us pray to the Father in the words our saviour 
taught us." The congregation speak out as one,

"Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowe'd be thy name."

I lay my daughter gently on the bed. Everything but her 
hot little rose-colored briefs appears to have been 
magically discarded.

"Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is 
in Heaven."

I am kneeling beside her. Grasping her panties I pull 
them down. She puts her arms up to me almost in 
supplication. She smiles as I part her legs. I stare 
lovingly rather than lustfully at her beautifully 
sculptured ingress. 

"Give us this day our daily bread,"

I manouever myself between her thighs, unembarrassed as 
is she, by my swollen erection. 

"And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who 
trespass against us."

Placing the head at her vaginal entrance, I apply what 
pressure is necessary. She whispers "It's OK dad you're 
not hurting me," Even though I must be, she hands me 
such a loving smile I feel like crying. Perhaps tears 
of gratitude that God ever fashioned for me so 
beautiful and exquisite a daughter.

"and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from 
evil."

Entering her, I am lost in a sea of emotion. She 
understands somehow and holds me to her, encouraging me 
to penetrate her yet deeper.

"For the kingdom, the power and glory are yours..."

Time has elapsed - seconds? minutes? I have no way of 
knowing. Right then my discharge floods her internally. 
The beatific expression on her face assures me that all 
is well and that never shall I feel guilt over what I 
have done.

"For ever and ever, Amen!" 


(c) Peter_Pan 2006


Please visit "The World of Peter_Pan"

http://www.geocities.com/worldofpeter_pan/index.html

"Imagine For a Moment" available at:

http://www.lulu.com/content/69187

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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Kristen's collection - Directory 49