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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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type of literature, or you are under age,
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American Daughter
by Your Ghost (Ilikeknives@msn.com)
***
Jane Burnham from the film "American Beauty" finds a
solution to her problems with her mom, her dad, and her
slutty best friend Angela. (M+/f-teen, inc, oral,
movie-parody)
***
I just couldn't believe it. My life had gone beyond
miserable and was now venturing out into the fucking
Outer Limits of Despair. My dad was a loser, my mom was
a money hungry shrew, and my best friend was a total
slut, and that was all just for starters. It got worse.
I also had to worry about Rickey, the guy next door,
who was strange and kept spying on me and filming me
with his video camera, which would have simply prompted
a call to the police except that I'd somehow fallen in
love with him.
Then slept with him. And to top it all off, my dad had
a hard on for my best friend, who in turn apparently
thought he was a total hottie. It was all just too
bizarre for words. And there didn't seem to be any way
out, no way to fight back.
I was lying on my bed, watching Lizzie McGuire on my TV
and trying not to think too much about my problems.
Lizzie and Miranda were all nervous about buying their
first bras, which was almost a joke since neither of
them had much up top to provide support for. Of course,
that wasn't the joke in the show; the joke in the show
was that they still needed their moms for some things,
they just didn't know it. Lizzie was children's
programming, after all.
I remembered when I'd had to go shopping for my first
bra. I eleven years old then and already needed a B
cup. I had big tits even then, and they'd just gotten
bigger and bigger over the last four years. I was a D
cup now, close to double D. But my tits weren't
unsightly like a lot of them are when they get that
size; they were still firm and supple. At least I had
one thing to be thankful for.
Maybe that was why my mom had slapped me. She'd been
getting on my case, calling me an ungrateful bitch and
all that, then she'd changed her tactics and started
getting all weepy, and I'd smarted off to her. Slapped
me right in the face.
On the TV screen Lizzie and Miranda were looking
sheepish and making things up with Lizzie's mom. Lizzie
and Miranda. Cute girls. I could easily see them
falling in love, having hot lesbian sex in Lizzie's
bedroom in the middle of the night. Not a bad thing to
keep in mind for tonight's shower. I usually didn't
think about stuff like that, but every once in a while
I had my temporary gay moments.
Did my mom slap me because I didn't get along with her
and Dad the way I was supposed to, or because I had the
killer bod she wished she had? Because I was young and
beautiful and she wasn't anymore? It didn't matter.
That slap in the face was going to cost her. I just had
to figure out how.
Lizzie McGuire was over and I grabbed the remote from
my nightstand and clicked the TV off, then got up. I
was hungry, I needed a late night snack. I started for
the door, but stopped when I caught my reflection in
the mirror on my bedroom door. I wasn't wearing a whole
lot; just a pair of pajama bottoms and a blank white
tank-top, which was so snug you could see not only the
total outline of my tits but my nipples too.
I thought about putting something on over my chest,
partly because I knew Mom would flip out but also
because I didn't want to be half naked in front of my
dad. I was lazy, though, and in a pissy enough mood
that I decided it didn't matter.
Calling me a bitch. She was the bitch. She was the one
who deserved to get slapped. Slapped down by her much
better looking daughter.
Dad was in the living room when I went through, sitting
in his chair and watching America's Most Wanted. He
didn't look up when I went by and I didn't say
anything. I went into the kitchen to the fridge and
took out stuff to make a sandwich, then got a knife
from the drawer.
Dad, I thought as I spread mayonnaise on bread. What
was his problem? Acting all goofy and horny around
Angela. Lots of guys did that, of course, she was
beautiful and, according to her own account, a total
slut, but those guys were usually at least close to our
age. Dad was forty. He was old. And he was my dad.
I finished with the mayonnaise and took it back to the
fridge, got out the lettuce and tomato slices and ham,
took it all back to the counter and began building.
Naturally, Angela didn't make it any easier. She
thought it was cute. Hell, she thought he was cute.
"If he built up his chest and arms, I would totally
fuck him," she'd told me one night. I'd covered my ears
after that because she was enjoying grossing me out,
but she kept going. "I would suck your dad's big fat
dick, and then I would fuck him till his eyes rolled
back in his head."
And she thought Rickey was a psycho.
The sandwich was finished. I put everything away,
washed the knife and set it in the drainer, then got a
soda and carried my sandwich out to the living room.
Dad was still in his chair, watching some dumb
commercial like it was an Academy Award winning film. I
sat on the sofa and he immediately said, "Be careful
with the food, sweetheart. You know how much your mom
values that couch."
My first impulse was to smart off to him, but instead I
said, "Yeah, I know. She loves it more than she loves
us."
Dad was silent for a few moments, then he started to
laugh softly. I set my soda on the end table between us
and started in on my sandwich while John Walsh wrapped
up his show on TV. As I ate I thought about Angela and
what she'd said, how messed up it was, how messed up
she was, and not just because she wanted to do it with
my dad.
She wanted to do it with my dad, and that just wasn't
fair. It was hard enough getting his attention, and it
had been a long time since he'd shown me any kind of
real affection, but now that Angela was in the picture
it was like I didn't exist anymore, for either one of
them. In a way, though, I didn't blame my dad. After
all, look at the monster he was married to. Why
wouldn't he go for somebody younger and lots more
beautiful?
Somebody younger and more beautiful....
I looked at my dad. He was staring at the TV, but he
had that glassy look in his eyes, like he was off on
another world. Usually that meant he was thinking about
work, but I figured this time it wasn't work that was
on his mind. I glanced down at his crotch (one of the
first times I'd ever done that) and saw that, yeah,
there was something going on down there. He was
thinking about her. Probably fantasizing her sucking on
his "big fat dick."
I could see it too: Angela on her knees and Dad holding
her by her gorgeous blonde hair and shoving his cock
into her mouth; her hands tied behind her back and her
cheerleader uniform in shreds. And once he was done
coming in her mouth he'd start beating the shit out of
her. And he'd let me help.
"Whatcha thinkin about, Dad?" I asked.
"Hmm?" Dad said, snapping back to reality. "Oh,
nothing, sweetheart."
Which meant, of course, that he was thinking about
something. Otherwise he would have started spouting off
about his dumb job.
"Angela might be spending the night this Friday," I
said.
"Oh really?"
Not really, but now I had his full attention.
I leaned toward him, pushing my tits out a little bit.
He noticed, too, though he tried to pretend he didn't.
"Yeah, she gets thing in her head," I said, unsure of
just exactly what I was saying. "You know, she wants to
spend time with me, like, constantly. Always asking if
she could come over, spend the night, all that crap."
Dad appeared to think about this for a minute, then
said, "Well, sweetheart, you two are friends. It's only
natural that you would spend time together."
"There's nothing natural about it, Dad." I waited one
beat. "Tell you truth, I think she has a crush on you."
Dad laughed, trying to make it sound real, but I knew
I'd just made his cock about three times as hard. Hell,
he might even be spraying his shorts.
"That's-I don't-no, sweetheart, she's far too
young...for, well, that kind of thing."
"No, she's not," I giggled. "Dad, she's a total slut.
She'd sleep with...." I tried to think of somebody
rabidly ugly, but my mind was a sudden blank, "....me,
if I had a dick." I forced a laugh, but I made it sound
authentic. "Wouldn't that be a kick in the head? If you
happened to come into my room and found the two of us
together, doing some crazy lesbian shit?"
Dad wrinkled his brow, seeming confused, but I could
tell he was trying hard to imagine that very thing.
God, he was such a fake. He hardly deserved what was up
my sleeve.
"What would you do, Dad?" I asked. "Would you go for
it?"
"Go for it?" Dad replied, still feigning confusion. "Go
for what?"
"You know. Would you shove me out of the way and jump
on her? Have your way with her?"
Dad shook his head and said, "Oh come on, now,
sweetheart. I couldn't do something like that. Angela's
just a girl, she's only, what? Fifteen?"
I giggled again.
"Yeah, right. I know you're hot for her, Dad. You'd do
her in a heartbeat if you thought you could. Which,
actually, you probably can." Dad continued to shake his
head, but he didn't reply. I waited another moment or
two, then lowered my voice. "What about me?"
He furrowed his brow again, and this time he really did
look confused.
"What do mean?"
I swallowed and looked down in my lap and said, "Would
you....you know....want to have your way with me?
Instead of her?"
"Oh, Janie," Dad said. He sounded sad, which surprised
me. "I could never hurt you that way. You're my
daughter, and I love you too much to take advantage of
you like that."
"I didn't ask you if you would," I said. "I asked you
if you would want to."
Dad sighed and sat back in his chair.
"No, of course not. I don't think about you that way.
But okay, I get your point. I admit it, I'm attracted
to your friend, and I would go to bed with her if I had
the chance. But no, Janie, I don't have those kinds of
feelings for you."
Jesus, he was dense. The guy just did not get it. But
that was okay. I had a plan for that, too.
On the TV the news was just starting. Tales of disaster
and death that I was sure my dad could do without. I
got up from the sofa and stood in front of him,
blocking his view.
"What are you doing, sweetheart?" he asked. At least he
didn't try to look around me.
I didn't answer. Instead I simply took hold of the
bottom of my tank-top and pulled it up over my head,
then dropped it on the floor and stood there, my hands
at my sides. Totally topless.
My dad's eyes couldn't help but zero in on my tits. I
felt them touching me, almost like hands, as his
eyebrows went up and his mouth dropped open and he
said, "Wow."
I thought about saying, "You wanna touch?" like
Brittany Murphy in Don't Say A Word, but I was a little
scared now and didn't say anything. I just kept
standing there, and Dad slowly got up from his chair.
He stood in front of me and I looked up into his eyes,
but he wasn't looking down into mine. His eyes were
still locked onto my chest, with this look like he was
seeing one of the most awesome things he'd ever seen in
his life.
Or two of the most awesome things. I felt totally
creeped out, but I felt flattered too. I mean, yeah, he
could get the chance to be in this same kind of
position with Angela, and no doubt he'd be looking at
her the same way, but we both knew that I was a much
more rare opportunity. I was his daughter.
I saw his arms moving with my peripheral vision, then I
felt his hands touching me. Just touching at first,
then pressing, then squeezing and fondling. I held my
breath, not sure what to do at this point. Should I
touch him too? Talk sexy to him? Pretend to be the
reluctant molested little girl? Tell him why I was
doing this? Did he even care? I looked at his eyes,
which were focused on my tits like radar, and I got my
answer: he couldn't have cared less.
I would suck your dad's big fat dick, and then I would
fuck him till his eyes rolled back in his head.
"Do you want me to suck your cock?" I heard myself
saying.
"Yes," Daddy replied, so low that I almost couldn't
hear him.
Well, okay. Guess I was gonna have to do that, then.
I got down onto my knees (my dad's hands reluctantly
slipping away from my tits) and undid the fly on his
pants, then reached inside. I didn't shut my eyes or
anything, but I did kind of shut off my mind, just went
through the motions. I'd given a couple guys head
before (the last one being Rickey just a few nights
ago), so it wasn't like I was experiencing anything
new. It was easy just to pretend that this wasn't
really my daddy, this was just some old guy I decided
to take pity on.
I fished in his boxers for a second until I found his
dick, then pulled it out into the open. It was hard as
a rock, naturally, but it was smaller than I expected.
Certainly not the "big fat dick" Angela dreamed about.
I felt strangely embarrassed for him as I looked at it,
held it and stroked it lightly with my fingers. I
thought about how Mom had been his high school
sweetheart, how she'd been the only woman he'd ever
been with, and how that meant that he'd probably never
had his dick sucked even one time in his entire life.
The thought made me smile; by the time I was finished
with him, Dad would consider Angela just a dumb ditzy
cunt. And he might never even look at Mom again.
I opened my mouth and brought it down on the end of his
cock. Dad immediately moaned like it was the best thing
he'd ever felt (it probably was), and he put his hands
on top of my head. I could tell by the way he did that
that he wanted to hold me in place and fuck my mouth,
and it kind of turned me on a little.
I liked it when guys did that to me, although so far
only one guy had actually done it, a black guy I went
out with one time. He'd held me by my ponytail and
jammed his cock into my mouth, just about choking me to
death before he came. But Dad didn't do anything like
that, he just played with my hair and kept moaning, and
I held him at the base of his cock and sucked him off,
slowly and lovingly.
I pulled out all the stops, too. In addition to sucking
him, I licked him all over the head and up and down the
shaft, licked and sucked on his balls. And his cock was
small enough that it was easy for me to deep throat him
too; I took the whole thing into my mouth, the head
kind of crowding my throat a little bit and his pubic
hair in my nose. I kept it like that for maybe ten
seconds, not moving but just holding him in my mouth,
using my fingers to play with his balls at the same
time, and he really liked that.
"Jesus, Janie," Dad said, his voice low and filled with
wonder, "where did you learn to do that?"
I didn't answer. I just kept sucking on him, stroking
him now as I moved my mouth up and down on his cock,
and in a few more moments he came. His sperm squirted
over my tongue and to the back of my throat, and
although I told myself I wasn't going to swallow, I did
anyway. I had to force myself not to grimace or gag,
but I got it all down, and as soon as he was done Dad
pulled his cock out of my mouth and took a step back.
"Wow," he said as I reached for my soda, "Janie,
sweetheart, that was absolutely amazing."
I took a drink of my soda, swirled it around in my
mouth, then swallowed and said, "Yeah, well, I'm an
amazing girl." I had to take another drink of soda.
I was still on my knees and Dad got down on his too,
looked deep into my eyes. It was weird; I'd never
thought my dad capable of looking at someone like that,
like he was totally captivated by another human being,
enthralled with the reality of someone besides himself.
Like he was in love.
He touched my hair, then my cheek, then he leaned
closer and kissed my lips. I didn't kiss him back. He
looked into my eyes again, and now he was starting to
creep me out.
"You are so beautiful," he said.
"More beautiful than Angela?" I asked, immediately
hating myself for asking such a weak question.
"Yes," Dad replied. "Janie, you're the most beautiful,
most wonderful girl in the entire world. And I'm not
saying that because of what just happened. I've always
felt that way about you. You're my little girl."
I managed not to roll my eyes at that one. He still
didn't get it, even now when I had the remnants of a
load of his come in my mouth. I didn't want to be his
little girl. I told myself that he probably didn't mean
it that way, that no matter what I did he would always
refer to me that way, his little girl, his baby. It was
just a term of endearment, a special name just for me
and nobody else.
Then again, maybe he dug little girls. Maybe he used to
think about me while he was whacking off when I was
seven. I didn't know, and I didn't have the energy to
explore the issue. I had to be satisfied with the fact
that he was looking at me with those worshipful puppy
dog eyes, it was me that he wanted now. I was important
to him after all.
I opened my mouth to ask him if he wanted to fuck me,
but suddenly he was kissing me, and fondling my tits,
and guiding me down onto the carpeted floor. As soon as
I was on my back he pulled his mouth away from mine and
started to kiss and suck on my nipples. At the same
time he was tugging at the waistband of my pajama
bottoms, clumsily trying to pull them down while still
trying to suck my nipples.
I reached down and pushed his hands away, took hold of
the bottoms myself, and awkwardly pulled them over my
hips. Dad broke away from my tits and practically
yanked my peejays off, then did the same thing with my
panties. I was totally naked now and, surprisingly,
turned on. I wanted him to put that little dick of his
inside of me. Not so much because I thought it would be
a fun ride, but because it was so obvious now how much
power I had. I had all of it. Mom and Angela could both
go fuck themselves.
Dad didn't waste any time. As soon as he had me naked
he was on top of me, kissing my face and neck and
trying to get his cock in the right position. I put my
arms around him, caressed his back and shoulders,
waiting for him to invade me, to take me, to make me
his. I felt it, hard and insistent, pushing past the
lips of my cunt. I expected Dad to just shove it right
on in, he seemed that excited, but instead he moved
slowly, tenderly, like he was afraid of hurting me.
He didn't really have to do that, since I'd been with
Rickey a few times already, and he was thicker and much
longer than my dad. Still, he continued on cautiously,
almost shy in the way he burrowed into me, until
finally he was all the way in. He fucked me just as
slowly as he'd entered me, but as his passion grew I
realized that he wasn't being careful so much as just
wanting to luxuriate in the experience. He was enjoying
fucking me, and I was enjoying it too.
I moved with him, alternately holding my breath and
sighing as my daddy fucked me. Daddy held me with one
arm around me while with his other hand fondled my
tits. He peppered me with kisses, on my forehead, my
cheeks, my nose, my eyes, my mouth. He grunted and
moaned as he slid in and out of my cunt and I rocked my
hips, pushing against him as he pushed against me. I
could feel the slow burn of pleasure growing within me,
becoming a strong sexual heat that could easily build
and explode, and I began to moan too, to let him know
what I was feeling.
"Oh God, Janie," Daddy breathed in my ear as he fucked
me, "I love you so much."
I smiled at that, whispered that I loved him too, and
considered saying other things, nasty things like, Fuck
me, Daddy, and Fuck your little girl, fuck your little
baby. But then something caught my eye and I looked
past his shoulder to the doorway that led from the
living room to the stairs. Mom was standing there
watching us. And she looked pissed. She looked like she
could easily go find a gun and blow both our brains
out. And then maybe turn it on herself. That last idea
kept the smile on my face, and I openly looked back at
her as Daddy continued to fuck me.
"Yeah, Daddy," I said softly, "fuck me. Fuck your
little girl, fuck your little baby." I continued to
stare at Mom. "Do you love me Daddy?"
"Yes, sweetheart," Daddy replied, his voice husky in my
ear. I could tell he was getting near the end. "I love
you more than anyone else in the world."
"More than Mom?"
"Yes, oh yes, darling. More than anyone."
I closed my eyes and pressed my nose into Daddy's neck,
letting Mom know that she wasn't worth my attention
anymore.
"Oh Daddy," I said. "Fuck your daughter, Daddy."
"Yes, my sweet wonderful daughter."
He started fucking me a little harder now and I
responded, moving with him, and the heat inside of me
suddenly burst and spilled all through my body. I was
coming, and suddenly Daddy was coming too. We both
moaned and held each other tightly as his warm milky
come spurted and poured into me.
When it was over, when were done, we both relaxed on
the floor, still holding each other as the powerful
sexual energy of our lovemaking faded and our breathing
calmed. After a while, I wasn't sure how long, I opened
my eyes again and looked toward the doorway. Mom was
still standing there, but as soon as I met her eyes
with mine she shook her head, resigned to her fate,
then turned and went up the stairs. I smiled again,
closed my eyes, and thought to myself, Yeah, bitch.
Slapped you back, didn't I?
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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