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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
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Keeping Warm
by RJ Squirrel (rjsquirrel3@gmail.com)
***
A man traveling with his daughter must make do when the
hotel reservation is lost. Then he helps her join a
club. (M/f-teen, ped, reluc, inc, preg)
***
"What do you mean, you can't find our reservation?" My
patience was completely gone now; I was working on rage.
"I'm sorry, sir, but your confirmation number isn't in
our system. And we're completely booked up for the
holidays. We don't have any suitable rooms available."
I mentally cursed my sister for deciding to get married
on Christmas day, and planning a family reunion for the
following week. At the same time, I wished I had gotten
the flu instead of my wife, Jessica, so she could be
dealing with all of this instead of me.
Something the desk clerk said caught my attention.
"Wait, what do you mean by 'suitable room'?"
"Well, we have one empty room, but it's unavailable due
to maintenance. The heater isn't working, the part's on
back-order, and it gets quite cold at night. Plus, it's
a single with a queen bed, and we don't have any roll-
aways available."
I looked at my 16-year-old daughter, thinking the same
thing as the clerk. It wouldn't be appropriate for us to
share a bed. At the same time, I was cold, wet and
tired; I was willing to take anything.
"Is it dry? Out of the weather? Do the shower and toilet
work?"
"Well, yes, sir, but..."
"Fine, we'll take it."
"But, sir, what about..."
"Send up some extra blankets and pillows, and I'll sleep
on the goddamned floor. Just give me the fucking key."
"Y-yes, sir." I'm not a particularly overbearing man,
but when I'm determined, I get an intense look in my
eyes that will unsettle most opponents.
Several minutes later, Tracy and I entered our room, a
large corner room on the hotel's top floor. It would
have been a stellar room, except that it felt only
marginally warmer than the snowstorm outside. A flat
screen TV on a dresser faced the queen-sized bed, a pair
of armchairs and a small table filled one corner, while
a desk and office chair sat in the opposite corner.
"Fuck," I muttered, "I was really hoping for a sofa."
Tracy heard me, and looked guiltily away.
"I'm sorry about my language, sweetie."
"It's okay, Daddy," she replied softly. We had tried to
insulate Tracy from the worst elements of the world,
enrolling her in a girls-only private school, limiting
her access to the Internet and TV, encouraging her
participation in sports, and trying to provide a
wholesome home atmosphere. At times, I was worried we
had gone too far, but nobody could argue with the fact
that we had a beautiful, intelligent and well-mannered
daughter as a result. And of course, she was the apple
of my eye; there was nothing I could deny her.
The hardest part for me was language. When I'm under
stress, I could curse like a longshoreman, but I really
tried to control this when Tracy was around. Today, I
had dropped two F-bombs in her presence; as far as I
could remember, this was the first time I had ever used
that word around her.
She looked back at me, and concern quickly filled her
face. "Oh my gosh, Daddy, you're shivering so much!" I
hadn't even noticed it, but now that she brought it to
my attention, I could feel myself shaking. On the way
across the parking lot, I had slipped and fell on a
patch of ice, breaking the surface and sinking my
backside into a puddle of ice-water. My pants were
soaked as a result.
Tracy ran into the bathroom, and I heard water running.
She came back a moment later.
"We have hot water, Daddy. Get in the shower and warm
yourself up. I'll take care of things out here."
Her look and manner allowed for no argument. I went into
the bathroom, closed the door, stripped, and got in the
shower. Within minutes, the shivering stopped and I
started to feel human again. The heat from the shower
warmed the room, and I seriously considered never
getting out.
"Are you okay, Daddy?" The voice came from the other
side of the shower curtain. I was so startled that I
nearly slipped and fell.
"Um, yes, sweetie, I'm doing much better."
"Okay, good. I think I figured something out in the
room. But maybe we ought to stay in here."
"I was thinking the same thing," I said with a chuckle.
"But it might be a little crowded."
"Yeah, you're probably right," she agreed. "I brought
your PJs in for you. Make sure you dry yourself off
really well when you get out." A moment later, I heard
the door close.
I finished the shower, towelled off thoroughly, and
pulled on my flannel PJs. The change in temperature
between the bathroom and the room was shocking, and I
started shivering almost instantly. I looked on the
floor for my improvised bed, but nothing was there.
"Over here, Daddy."
Tracy was sitting up in the bed, beckoning me. Down the
middle of the bed was a bolster and some wadded-up
blankets.
"That side's yours," she said, gesturing to the empty
half of the bed. "This is called 'bundling'. We learned
about it in school - prior to the 20th century, it was a
common way for people who were betrothed to share a bed
without risking intimate contact. This bed's plenty big
enough for both of us."
I was sold. I climbed into the bed and pulled up the
covers. We watched a little TV, and then turned out the
lights and went to sleep.
***
"Daddy?"
"Hmmm?"
"I'm so cold, Daddy."
"Mmm." Cold. Yes, it's cold.
"Can I get closer to you, Daddy?"
Closer. Body heat. Warm. Yes. "Uh-huh."
Something cold and bulky moving away from me, then
something else moving closer. Something soft and warm.
Someone. Snuggled up in front of me, pushing against me,
spooning. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her closer.
"Mmmmm, thank you, Daddy. That's so much better."
"Mmmm."
Sleep.
***
Gradually, I became aware of the rhythmic motion and
heavy breathing. I could feel her rocking back and
forth, as well as the heat and moisture on my rigid
cock. As I woke a bit more, I could feel her pussy lips
sliding along the top of my cock, and the head barely
catching at the opening of her slit, stimulating her
clit.
Hmmm, I thought groggily, feels like Jessie's a little
horny tonight.
I decided to move things to the next level. The next
time her pussy slid to the tip of my cock and started
back down, I moved my hips to change the angle. In one
move, my cock slid into the tight, warm sheath, past an
unexpected resistance, buried deep.
"OW!" a young voice cried.
"Jessie?" I asked, still half asleep.
"Daddy? That hurt."
"TRACY?!" Suddenly, I was wide awake. Holy shit, I
thought, that's Tracy. My daughter. I'm in my daughter!
Shit!!!
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," I said, and started to pull
my hips back.
"NO!" she cried, pushing herself back on me. I froze
again. "Don't move, daddy. It still hurts too much." She
reached down and began to rub her mons, her fingers
running alongside my cock where it entered her. "It
hurts more when you move. Ow!"
I winced in sympathetic pain, even though the sensations
I was feeling from her hand and pussy were anything but
painful to me. "Tracy, what happened? What were you
doing?"
"I'm sorry, Daddy. When I woke up, it was sticking out
of your pajamas and between my legs. I started to move
away, but then it felt so good when I moved against it,
that I shifted back. The I did it again, and again, and
again. And then I thought if it felt good through my
panties, it would feel better without them, so I took
them off. And it did feel so much better. But then it
went in, and it felt like something sort of ripped. Was
that my cherry, Daddy?"
"Yes, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I was still half asleep,
and I thought you were your mother. I-I'm so sorry,
sweetie. I shouldn't have taken your virginity. That
should have been saved for someone special."
"Well, if that's the case, then there's nothing wrong.
You're the most special person in my life, Daddy." She
reached up to my arms, still wrapped around her body,
and hugged them to her.
But it wasn't just her arms hugging me. I felt her
muscles in her warm, tight pussy squeeze my cock at the
same time. It felt wonderful, and I knew that if I
didn't end this incestuous connection immediately, I
might never do it.
"Thank you, honey, but we need to stop this. And I mean
now."
Her hand slid back down and started rubbing her mons
again. She sighed. "Okay, Daddy, but I still feel kind
of tender down there. Let me do it, okay?"
She started to slowly move away from me, and I felt
myself sliding out of her, one millimeter at a time. The
feeling was exquisite, and it took all my willpower to
keep from slamming myself back into my daughter.
Finally, the head of my cock was all that was left
inside her, and I began to gently move my hips back.
At that moment, my sweet, innocent daughter shoved her
hips back towards me, burying my cock in her again.
"Tracy!? What are you doing?"
"It started to hurt again, Daddy. Right there at the
end, it hurt really bad, like it's bigger there. I
thought I should start over to keep it from hurting."
"Honey, think for a minute. That's not going to help.
Just slide off me like a good girl."
"Okay, I'll try."
Her hand was still moving over her mons, but seemed to
be drifting a little higher up. Funny, the ache must
have moved, I thought. It shouldn't hurt up by her clit.
All other thoughts left my head as she started to move
her hips away from me, a little quicker than before. But
again, she reversed her motion before I was completely
out of her.
"Ooh, it still hurts. Let me try again."
"Tracy, enough. I know what you're doing."
I felt a change in her demeanor. Her hand shifted again
slightly, and was openly focused on her clit. She began
shifting her hips forward and backward.
"Really, Daddy? What am I doing?" she asked in an
innocent, coquettish voice.
"You're fucking me," I grunted. I shifted my hips back
to try and disengage from her, but they shifted back
towards her on their own.
"Yes, Daddy," she gasped, in time to the shifting of my
hips, "and now you're fucking me. Do you want to stop?"
My hands were on her hips, to push her off of me. For
some reason, they were pulling her onto me instead. My
sanity left me, my morals disappeared, and I embraced
eternal damnation.
"No, I don't," I groaned. At that moment, I was able to
pull out of her. I rolled her onto her back and climbed
between her open legs. Her hands found my cock and
guided it into its new, willing sheath.
"Oh, fuck, Daddy, I love your cock." Her words lit a
fire in me, and I began pumping into her, burying my
cock to the hilt with each thrust. Her legs came up
behind me and she linked her feet behind my ass, using
them to help force me into her. I looked down on her,
and watched my baby girl in the throes of wanton
passion. She locked her eyes with mine, and began to
grunt "fuck me, Daddy" over and over.
I felt my sperm rising, and a last shred of sanity told
me to pull out. But when I tried, her legs drove me back
into her and held me there. Her chanting changed to "cum
in me, Daddy." I was lost. I cried out as I came,
pumping my seed deep into her, my cock pulsing again and
again. The expression on her face changed from desire to
victory.
"Yes, Daddy, fill me up, fill me up," she moaned. Her
pussy milked me of every drop; even as I began to
soften, she held me in place with her legs until my limp
cock slid out of her. Then she released me, and I
collapsed to her side.
"Tracy," I gasped, "what the hell just happened?"
She was breathing heavy, as well. "It's for school,
Daddy," she said. "There's a Young Mothers club at
school, and you have to be pregnant to join. All my
friends are in it now, and they talk about it all the
time, and it sounds like they have so much fun, dressing
dolls and practicing for their babies. And so I wanted
to join, so I asked them for their advice.
"Angela and Rebecca said their Dads helped, and I
thought that was perfect, because I don't know any other
boys. So I made Mom pancakes with some rotten eggs for
breakfast yesterday morning so she'd think she had the
flu, and so we would be alone during this trip. And I
called and cancelled the reservation for two rooms so
we'd have to share one. And I'm ovulating this week, so
the timing is perfect.
"I might even be pregnant already, cuz it felt like you
put a lot in me just now, but we need to fuck every
night this week, just to be sure. Probably two or three
times a night, cuz once the pain went away, it felt
really really good. Ooh, Daddy, can we fuck in the
daytime? Is that okay? I think I'd like fucking you in
the daytime.
"It just sounds naughty. And do you know what 'cummy-
linkus' and 'fillay show' is? Rebecca said she and her
Dad do that all the time, and it feels almost as good as
fucking. She still fucks her Dad even though she's
already pregnant because he likes it as much as she
does.
"I really liked fucking you, Daddy. Did you like fucking
me? Can we try 'cummy-linkus' and 'fillay show' now,
Daddy? And then fuck again? Please, Daddy, can we fuck
again?"
I lay there, listening to her, knowing that no matter
how wrong it was, no matter the consequences, I would
fuck my darling beautiful daughter, the apple of my eye,
pumping her full of incestuous seed until she carried my
child, again and again and again. For I can deny her
nothing.
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in
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 system.
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