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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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(C) 1992 Mark E. Dassad. May be reproduced and
redistributed un-edited and un-altered in electronic
format for NON-PROFIT ONLY with this notice intact. The
author reserves the right to sell paper copies at huge
profit to the disconnected.
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In Her Memory
By Mark E. Dassad (address withheld)
***
A father taking advantage of his daughters love for
him. (Mf, ped, inc)
***
Waking to the quiet sounds of a sleeping household, the
refrigerator humming to itself in the pre-dawn
stillness he rises groggily to pee, absently pondering
this miss-feature in human design, the eight-hour sleep
cycle coupled with a seven-hour water tank.
It is nearly time to rise and start the day and his
mind wanders back to the empty spot where his wife had
lain until she disappeared nine or so months ago; half
hoping her body will eventually turn up in a ditch
somewhere so that he can be free of her, somehow
certain she simply ran off one afternoon, took the cat
and fled her dreary existence with him and his job and
his mortgage and car payments and receding hairline and
all the other trappings of adulthood, of
responsibility.
And he wanders over the memories of the body that had
lain next to him all those years, the smooth firm flesh
that had been his privileged pleasure, the curve of her
slender soft ass, how well their two bodies fitted
together after all the years of adjustment, of fine
tuning to each other's needs, recalling the soft warm
feel of her interior as he had nestled inside of her...
His cock hardens at the memory, and it cannot help but
remind him of the soft younger version of her sleeping
in the upstairs bedroom with the smaller one that she
had always said looked a lot like him, if he'd been a
girl of course.
He curses the day she left them and he curses her
memory as his feet pad softly up the carpeted stairs
into the room where the two girl children lie sleeping
in their white painted beds, the room overflowing with
ruffles and lace and... Girl things, her legacy.
His dancing penis draws him toward the long-haired one
as it seems increasingly wont to do as Her memory fades
in deference to the reality of the beautiful young
thing, here, in the present, with the soft pink lips
and wide dark eyes and long brown hair and slender,
strong, firm legs, beautiful plump nipples swelling
with the first indications of childhood's end.
As this creature's reality becomes so very apparent to
the pulsing flesh peering from his loosely wrapped
terry robe he sits down gently on the edge of her bed
brushing the long soft strands of hair from her face as
she sleeps quietly on her stomach breathing softly, her
mouth a small delicate "oh" in the pre-dawn quiet.
Gently, very gently, he shifts so he is stroking her
hair, running his hand down the back of her oversized
Garfield nightie, slowly drawing the sheets away from
her body, revealing strong tanned legs splayed casually
in sleep one knee drawn towards her chest so that when
he draws her nightie up her beautiful plump pussy is
just barely exposed.
Her round white buttocks, a perfect tan-line arcing
high across her hip bone, a perfect transition line of
brown and white drawn across her back at the very point
where her buttocks begin to part, his dancing penis
wills his fore-finger to collect the dewy dribble of
pre-cum oozing from its eye and trace the border-line
from the cleft of her plump young pussy across her hip.
She rouses, startled, when his moist, large rough
finger pushes at the sensitive flesh of her sex,
tracing outward along the crease where buttock meets
leg, rolling onto her side, his finger jerked away from
the sweet spot; the penis driving these actions starts
nervously, shrinks in fear to hide beneath the folds of
his opened robe.
She smiles sleepily, glancing over at the child
sleeping soundly in the bed barely an arm's length
away. "Daddy..."
The penis, re-assured, convinces him to press his
advantage and he leans over her, pushing gently on her
hip so that she is lying on her back, his hand moves
slowly, gently, pulling up the night-dress, exposing
her plump smooth sex to the cool morning air as his
body leans over her, shifting, placing his scratchy
lips against her warm forehead, leaning over her,
resting on his elbow brushing the hair from her face,
drawing his lips lovingly down the bridge of her nose,
his rough thumb reaching between the triangle of her
sex easily finding the pleasure button, pushing
insistently at it with his thumb as the rest of his
fingers push between her legs now parting invitingly as
the little kernel of pleasure at the top of her young
hairless gash hardens almost imperceptibly his mouth
covers hers, his tongue probes between her lips,
gliding along the roof of her mouth the soft pink sides
of her cheeks so smooth and moist like the tender new
skin hidden, buried between her legs.
She moans, humps back at the hand stroking her sex,
thrusting her tongue back into his mouth, neither are
concerned with the child stirring in the bed next to
them, roused from a deep sleep by the un-mistakable
sounds of lust. They know only this pleasure, a special
stolen pleasure that they have shared more and more
frequently in the time since she left them.
In the time since he first began noticing the oldest
girl's nipples swelling beneath her t-shirts, in the
time since the penis began contemplating the
possibilities of her maturing body as his hands roamed
over her in their playful tickling games, stiffening
with an adult-sized lust as her ripening body slithered
across his in their innocent wrestling, the penis
rubbing itself stiffly, against his will, over her
smooth firm young body, yearning for the freedom to
enjoy adult games with the beautiful creature it had
helped to create.
Moving slowly, slipping his robe off to let it slide to
the ground in the narrow space between his bed, one
hand and then the other pleasuring the beautiful girl
writhing and moaning caught up in the novelty of a
physical pleasure until recently unknown, he has moved
so he is kneeling between her limber young legs, still
rubbing at her pubis his tongue intertwined with hers
she gasps as he pushes her night-dress up under her
armpits.
She lifts herself off the bed to hastily pull it off
over her head as he continues to work adeptly at her
loins. She gasps again as two rough fingers push into
the moist dark hole between her legs, humps
appreciatively, pushing herself against the thumb
working wetly against her tiny button, her nightshirt
landing discarded atop his robe she places her mouth
against the tight hard nipple protruding from his matte
of graying chest-hair and it is his turn to gasp, a low
guttural moan of pure animal need.
His fingers press into her channel and the hard
throbbing life-form between his legs know that after
months of longing and preparation, it is finally time.
The fingers are withdrawn and she moans, disappointed,
until the penis begins rubbing, not gently, but
lustfully, insistently, tapping urgently at the
entrance to her young delights she reaches up to stroke
at his nipples as the penis glides wetly along the pink
split of her young pussy until it can stand it no more:
it leaps into the abyss, driving through the tight
narrow opening, spreading the delightful creature wide
as it tears open this fresh package of pleasure for the
very first time; she shrieks at a sharp burning pain
somewhere inside her, between her legs, and a wetness
between the cheeks of her buttocks.
She feels the penis driving into her opening her up
more intimately than she had envisioned it it feels as
if he will split her in two and she clutches him to her
chest, rubbing her tender gum-drop nipples against his
hairy chest concentrating on the contrast of her smooth
pink skin against his masculine roughness as he moves
urgently, leaning on his elbows, working rhythmically
he towers over her smelling of sweat and sex she feels
the thing begin moving deep inside her belly and the
pain of her abandoned virginity slowly, oh so slowly
begins to resemble pleasure.
It fills her, stretches her, she feels his wiry bush
tickle her own hairless pleasure centers as he plunges
into her, marvels at the feel of his hairy body moving
roughly against her nakedness, lurching violently,
driving into her, opening her up, stretching her young
cunt to near splitting each time the penis pushes up
into her, demanding she relinquish to him the pleasure
her firm young body encompasses.
She rides the building wave of ecstasy, exulting in the
way his driving lust pushes her roughly about on the
bed, marveling at the rasping sounds of cotton sheets
twisting beneath their humping bodies, opening her legs
as wide as she can, inviting him to split her wider,
penetrate deeper as an urgent pressure seems to build
in the pit of her groin, begging for a release she has
not yet imagined is possible.
He marvels at her passion, the penis swelling with
pride as her pain gives way to pleasure it senses that
she is in the end enjoying the ride and it quickens the
pace; they are moaning and grunting, thrashing back and
forth, the headboard slamming rhythmically against the
wall, neither notices or cares that the young child in
the adjacent bed has been watching intently as the
young beauty and her father rut frantically only scant
feet away, neither is aware of any existence extending
further than the pit of their groin or the pleasure
center of their brain as their grinding genitals are
making sticky wet noisy frantic sex.
He feels a burst of intense pleasure at the back of his
head, more intense than any of the jolts he's ever
gotten from a line of even the purest coke... his
testicles are snapped tight swollen to near exploding
and semen spews the length of his prick, splashing
thick and hot into the entrance to her unripened womb,
leaking from her narrow channel, squeezed out by his
frantic humping, his sperm continues spewing into her
interior until at last he pulls out, exhausted,
dribbling the last bit of ejaculate.
He leans over his fresh-fucked girl licking and sucking
at her beautiful nipples, rubbing at her moist pussy
lips she humps wildly as one jolt of pleasure after
another courses through her limber young body, she
cries out wildly, wailing, almost tearful as successive
jolts of unimagined ecstasy tear through her young
loins her hips thrust violently into the space between
their bodies, as he watches, awe-struck, her tight
young cunt spasming and twitching uncontrollably her
lust-driven cries finally weakening, pleasure
subsiding, turning to sweet sweaty exhaustion.
He rolls so they are lying, exhausted, side by side,
squeezed into the narrow space of a twin bed, stroking
each other in the afterglow of their animal passion.
She leans up on an elbow to glance in the direction of
the little sister who is sleeping intently, rigidly,
her small body turned away from the two bodies sharing
the bed next to her, illuminated by the grey light of
approaching dawn.
The newly created woman giggles childishly at the
thought of the little one witnessing their violent
fucking, and kisses her father wetly and loudly full on
the lips.
He smiles at her, so like the mother must have been at
that age, still lusty up until the moment she
disappeared. He whispers that they will likely have to
discard the sheets, as there is much sperm, and blood,
proof of her virtue.
Gathering his robe he pads softly from his girls' room;
passing the boy's room on his way back downstairs he
believes he hears the unmistakable sounds of masculine
self-pleasuring, and he smiles again as he prepares to
start the day.
The guilt will not happen till much later when the
brain has forgotten the penis' prerogative.
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not real life. Anyone acting
out such scenarios in "real life" can look forward to
many unproductive years getting it up the butt by a
fellow convict in their local prison.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 65