Mf13, fath/dau, inc, 1st, cons & nc

Driven by an intense desire, a remarkably intelligent daughter resorts to drastic measures to get what she wants more than anything - her father.

The private, unpaved gravel road curled and undulated, ending at a circular cul-de-sac just short of Skeleton Lake, a five mile body of water formed from the impact of a galactic traveler, a meteorite that had slammed into earth 800 million years ago. Ice Age glaciers had ground down the crater to its current depth of one hundred metres.

Three long, rutted drives bled off the end of the cul-de-sac, one to the right, one to the left, and one straight ahead, all disappearing through close-packed silver birches, maples and pines that formed branch-covered tunnels, darkening as the sun slipped towards the horizon. Down the right drive, two hundred yards in, sat a log cottage, steep roofed with shingles to slough-off the weight of winter snow, a tall thick brick chimney at one side, and large overhanging eave. It had small wood-framed windows, two to the left, one to the right, and a railed veranda that circled the cottage. The door bore a hand carved Canadian flag, the Maple Leaf embossed into solid wood. To the right of the door, a brightly painted boot brush carved like a Loon rested on the veranda looking serene. Bright red geraniums cascaded from planters on the railings. If the cottage was smaller, it might be considered quaint. Instead, it appeared large and rustic.

At the back, the veranda swept out into a large deck, a propane bar-b-que to the side and three broad steps led down to a footpath that wended across rocky moss-covered ground to a boathouse. The boathouse sat jutting into a placid lake, sporting a flat roof for sunbathing, chaise lounges sitting haphazardly here and there. In the early evening it was quiet, the silence broken occasionally by the rumble of a slowly passing motorboat, the slap of tiny waves against the rocky shore, or the lonely cry of a Loon. Blue-green lake water was nearing the glass-like stage of evening, only ripples left. Black flies and mosquitoes buzzed as they hunted for prey, although, now at the end of their season, their numbers were drastically reduced.

To all intents and purposes, it looked like many other cottages on the lake. But in this one, in this rustic cottage, events were about to take place that were unlike those in the other cottages. In this one, careful plans were about to unfold. Two lives would be irreversibly altered. In this rustic log cottage, on this night, a most unusual rape was about to take place.

The genesis of what was about to happen started long ago, seven years ago.

It started with love, the pure love of a father for a daughter, an emotional attachment only possible between fathers and daughters. It was a closeness strengthened by Jim's frustrations with a wife becoming distant, increasingly frigid, increasingly occupied with social activities, in fact, any activity as long as it wasn't at home.

It started with Jim seeking company and finding it in his six year old daughter's bedroom, finding solace from being with Jasmine. It started from the deep bond that formed between a daughter and a father, both ignored and psychologically abandoned by a mother.

The genesis of what was about to occur started seven years ago.

JASMINE STOOD IN THE cottage's kitchen, hand paused. She was debating, a clear frown drawing blond eyebrows together, sapphire eyes intent. She nodded to herself, decision made, and picked up both drinks; a Coke for her and a glass of Sleeman Silver Creek Lager for Dad. Turning, she walked through the sliding glass door onto the deck, walking over to where he sat in a low pine-green painted Muskoka wood chair.

"Here, Dad." She handed him his beer and sat in the chair next to him, angled slightly so she could look out over the lake and watch her father at the same time.

"Thanks sweetheart. It sure is peaceful."


Jasmine studied her father. She noted the slight grey appearing at his temples, almost unnoticeable with his blond hair, cut short for convenience not style. She looked at the off-centre dimple on his chin, a lasting gift from a hockey puck. His face was still slender without an ounce of fat, a ruler-straight nose, thick eyebrows that shaded intense, penetrating blue eyes, and a wide mouth that curved naturally into a smile. Laid back in the chair with his legs out and ankles crossed she could see how slender and wiry he was, the result of a lifetime of marathon competitions. He'd probably been exactly the same at twenty, she thought.

Jasmine could feel her love like a physical presence inside her. It was there, a tight ball inside her chest; a ball that could inflate to fill her with joy, or squeeze into a piece of lead, weighing her down. She couldn't remember not loving Dad.

She watched him take a sip of his beer, the glass frosted with condensation. She watched him swallow, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing up and down. She watched his slender, muscular arm lower to rest on the broad arm of the chair. He looked relaxed. She was glad he'd agreed to spend a week here. She knew Mom wouldn't join them, expressing distain for the cottage, annoying bugs, for being too quiet, too isolated, and the lack of social activities.

A shadow of doubt passed through her mind making her pause as she brought the Coke to her lips. It passed and she took a sip, letting her mind conjure up the rationalisations she'd built. She loved Dad. It had always been that way, but the earliest memory of her awareness was seven years ago and her love had grown and evolved ever since. Jasmine's mind drifted back.

Six years old.

"Night sweetheart."

"Will you read to me Daddy?" she asked. Mom had told her she was too old for bedtime stories, and given her a frown of disapproval as well. She was beginning not to like Mom, even though she loved her. Daddy's smile made her heart thump. She loved Daddy. He always listened to her.

"Sure, Jaz. What would you like me to read?"

She pulled The Cat in the Hat from under the covers. She'd been planning to read it after saying goodnight. "Here, Daddy. Read this."

She sat up quickly and waited for him to sit next to her, then pulled his arm around her, snuggled close with her head against his chest, face turned up with her eyes riveted to his face. She knew the book by heart. It wasn't the story she wanted to hear, she wanted to watch Daddy's face as he read. She sighed as he started, inhaling Daddy's smell deep, a smile curling her red lips, eyes studying his animated face. This was her favorite time of the day.

She sighed again when Daddy kissed her cheek goodnight and told her he loved her. "Night Daddy, love you too."

Cuddled under the covers, she decided she loved Daddy more than Mom. As long as she had Daddy, she didn't care about Mom.

Seven years old.

Playing soccer, Daddy standing on the sidelines pointing at her and telling everyone around him loudly, "That's my daughter," when she scored a lucky goal. The way he beamed in pleasure and pride made her heart thump. The love shining in his eyes when he looked at her made her stop and stare as she was running back down the field; so intense. His tight hug at the end of the game, sweeping her up, nestling his face to her neck whispering, "I'm so proud of you Jaz," made her heart hurt. She loved Daddy.

Nine years old.

Waking up slowly, Dad's arms holding her and the strange smell of a hotel room mixed with Dad's smell. Dad had taken her to one of his marathons, a double marathon; Mom gone on a trip with her girl friends. The room was tiny, all that was available, just one bed. Dad had been so embarrassed when they found out they'd have to share. After she'd overcome her embarrassment of having to share a bed, she'd felt a small spark of pleasure inside, wondering what it would be like to share a bed with someone. The small spark grew into a warm feeling when she pictured herself sleeping with Dad.

It had been the first time. Waking in his arms, she lay as still as possible so he wouldn't wake up. Her face was close to his chest, his musky scent filling her nostrils. The first spark happened when she realized her knee was between Dad's legs, her pussy nestled to his hard thigh. The spark hit her in her pussy and intensified when she felt his erection inside his underwear pushing against her tummy.

At first confused, she slowly explored the feeling, pressing her tummy against it slightly, feeling its tip push into her. Dad with an erection; how interesting. She had wondered what an erection was like. It felt hard but soft pushing at her. She extracted herself carefully and went to the bathroom, mind abuzz. When she sat on the toilet she saw the wet spot in her panties. Suddenly she was conscious of her arousal, her pussy tingling as she peed. She replayed the feel of Dad's erection pushed against her, his scent, his arms holding her.

Wiping herself, a pulse of pleasure hit her. Sitting on the toilet, legs parted, she looked between her spread legs and touched herself, let the familiar tingles grow, arousal build. She caressed her little clit, a hard bead, thinking of Dad's erection pressed against her, so hard, big, and mysterious. Her climax hit suddenly, shaking her body, pleasure filling her. It had been the first time she'd climaxed to thoughts of Dad, but not the last.

Ten and a half years old.

It was the first touch. Mom was out for the evening again leaving her and Dad at home alone. She liked it that way, Dad to herself. Sitting side by side on the couch, cuddled against Dad, they watched Titanic, again. She loved the romance, dreaming of her and Dad together, a frequent dream. Ever since the trip, she'd replayed that morning, caressing herself, pleasuring herself to the memory of Dad's erection pushing against her tummy, dreaming of maybe touching it, holding it. She'd imagine Dad touching her, kissing her, and she'd climax every time.

With her emotions stirred by the romantic movie, memories of Dad holding her in his arm, and the feel of his erection poking her in the stomach, she moved her hand from his thigh to rest on his chest, looking up at him.

"Are you sure you don't mind watching this again?" she asked.

"Of course not, sweetheart."

She rubbed his chest gently. "Thanks. Love you, Dad." His smile sent shivers through her, the love in his blue eyes so clear. My Dad, I love him.

"Love you too, Jaz," he responded, hugging her slightly.

Her hand returned to his thigh, slightly higher.

She pointed to the screen. "Was the Titanic really that big?" She lay her hand back on his thigh, slightly higher.

"At the time it was the largest. Unsinkable they claimed. Just goes to show you, don't tempt fate."

Five minutes later she pointed, "Why did it have four smoke stacks?"

"The Titanic . . ."

A surge of arousal pulsed through her pussy when she let her hand fall gently, this time resting it on the side of Dad's crotch.

". . . had four engines."

Jasmine closed her eyes slowly, pleasure and excitement flooding her when she felt Dad's large penis move, just a twitch. She said nothing when he gently moved her hand back down his thigh. It was her first touch; the first time she touched Dad's penis.

That night, laying in bed with no panties on, she masturbated, fingers sliding through her slit, pushing at her vagina then diddling her sensitive clit to the memory of touching Dad's penis, feeling it move; Dad getting an erection. She rubbed her aching tiny boobs under her Tee.

Her hand on her pussy became more insistent, rubbing her clit hard, slipping down, pushing gently at her vagina. Dad got an erection from her touch! Need to cum, need to cum. Hips undulating, dreaming of her and Dad, of maybe holding his erection, Dad kissing her, hugging her, oh, Dad telling her he loved her, she climaxed, her hips heaving off the mattress suddenly with the force of her orgasm. She cried out when her finger penetrated her vagina, the jab of pain shocking her as her hymen tore. She was shaking when Dad rushed into her room, a look of concern etched on his handsome face.

"Jaz! Are you okay?"

With embarrassment and her climax making her face flush hot, and the feel of blood slipping between her buttocks, she reassured Dad. "Sorry, I thought I saw a spider but it was just a shadow."

Dad kissed her sweaty brow. "Okay sweetheart. Sleep well. I love you."

Twelve years old.

The time she decided.

"Dad? Can I go to the movies tonight with Rachael? Her mom's going to be with us," she yelled over the sound of his shower, strolling into the bathroom. She'd planned it purposefully, waiting until he showered after work. Standing inside the door she examined Dad through the clear glass shower walls, admiring his slim body, his tight butt.

The heat that flushed through her groin when he turned felt marvellous. Dad's penis was flaccid and smallish, but she remembered feeling it erect pushing against her tummy. She wished she could see it grow, see how big it would be, how hard. What would it feel like to hold it or stroke it? What would it look like when he ejaculates?

Suddenly she needed to relieve the pressure inside, feeling horny. Stepping back through the door she peeked in to watch Dad wash. He hadn't heard her yell. Popping open the button on her jeans and pulling the zipper down to give her room, she slipped her hand inside and under her panties. Spreading her legs slightly to give her hand room, she cupped her pussy feeling the new pubic hair that had recently appeared, staring at Dad's penis, imagining it erect. She burrowed into her crotch seeking the slippery moisture she could feel dampening her panties. Drawing it up, she caressed her hard clit, staring at Dad's penis, watching it move, wondering what it might feel like when it was hard, pressing along her cleft, rubbing her clit.

Breathing harder, she let her slippery finger probe down, curling it, pushing into the silky warmth of her vagina, hips hunched forward. She wondered what it would feel like to hold and kiss it, maybe take it into her mouth, suck it. She wondered how good it would feel to be stretched by Dad's erection. A second finger joined the first, stretching her, feeling how tight she was, imagining it was Dad's erection pushing up into her. Another thrill hit her when she watched Dad washing his penis and balls, wishing it was her hand washing him, arousing him, making him erect, caressing and fondling Dad. Oh, good.

Sliding her fingers in and out, imagining it was Dad's erection stroking into her, her orgasm stirred, heaviness in her groin, vagina stretched, feeling good, feeling good. She wanted Dad. She wanted Dad to make love to her, to feel him inside her. Hair shaking, fingers thrusting, she knew she wanted Dad as a lover, Dad kissing her, Dad caressing her, Dad whispering how much he wants her, Dad whispering how much he needs her, oh God Dad! Cumming! Cumming!

It had been so good, she'd repeated it whenever she could, peeking in on Dad taking a shower and masturbating.

Thirteen years old.

Eleven weeks ago. Mom and Dad had moved into separate bedrooms.

It had become an obsession. The decision made. Dad didn't understand. He needed a woman and he loved her, she loved him. He needed companionship, to be loved and appreciated. He deserved to be happy and she would make him happy. He needed her.

Taking every opportunity she could, she'd hugged Dad, pressing her new boobs into him, rubbing her aching nipples against him. She would push her crotch against his thigh trying to stimulate herself; give him hints that, unlike Mom, she was willing to love him. She told him she loved him. She tried to let him know she wanted him, that they were right for each other, fated to be together. But, despite everything, he wasn't getting the message.

Then came the last straw. Dad had gently pushed her away when she was hugging him and rubbing herself slowly against his front, seeing if she could get him interested, excited, aroused. And she had! She'd felt a movement in his crotch, the beginning of an erection. But just as it was getting interesting he'd pushed her away from him gently. "No, Jasmine, don't do that," he'd said softly with a gentle smile.

It wasn't right! He wanted her. He must, otherwise why would he get excited? The love in his eyes, the adoration he showed, and his constant attention was proof of his desire. And she wanted Dad, badly. She wanted Dad to make love to her just like in all her dreams. Well, if Dad was afraid of the whole incest thing, she'd have to help him get over that stumbling block. She'd find a way. This was true love.

The sound of Loons calling and echoing across the lake brought her out of her reverie. She saw Dad take the last sip of his beer, foam sliding down the inside of the glass. Sitting quietly Jasmine kept an eye on him, waiting. It was wrong. She knew it. But Dad didn't seem to understand it was meant to be. In her heart of hearts she knew he wanted her and she knew she had to have Dad or she'd die from heart ache. She understood his reluctance to accept what they felt, the taboo of incest. She knew he thought she was too young, but she wasn't and she'd prove it. She wondered how the Gamma-Hydroxybutyrate would affect him, hoping she'd calculated the dose right. It had taken a lot of research to figure it out.

Jasmine shuddered in disgust remembering Larry, the twenty-something guy she'd bought it from, agreeing to give him a kiss and let him fondle her tits over her shirt. It was horrible feeling his slimy tongue shoving into her mouth and he was rough, squeezing her small boobs until they hurt. Boy he was stupid though. He really thought it was to get her nerd virgin boyfriend in bed. But it had been worth it. She got what she needed.

She felt arousal stir inside her wondering how long it would take for the Viagra pill, the one she'd ground up and dissolved in his beer with the GHB, to take effect. She wondered how big Dad's erection would be and, with little pulses of arousal, how it would feel to have Dad's erection inside her. This time Dad would not have a choice. This time she was going to get what she wanted, what he needed, show him it was their destiny to be together. He would not be able to refuse her. He loved her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, she just knew.

SIPPING MY BEER AND enjoying the peacefulness that can only be found at our cottage, the feeling of having shed civilization, dropped business pressures, and left the complexities of my life behind, I felt relaxation seep through my body. It actually felt like I was physically changing, muscles becoming jelly-like.

I enjoyed the quiet company of Jaz next to me. Looking across at her I wondered what she was thinking. She had a faraway look in her sapphire eyes. God I loved my daughter. I could feel my love as a physical warmth slowly mushrooming inside me. Jaz was, in my eyes, the prettiest girl on the planet; my daughter. I was so lucky to have her.

Studying her, I marvelled at how she had grown in the past couple of years. Her hair, a rich blond, fell in thick curls to below her shoulders and framed her pretty face. Adolescence had brought a pubescent, innocent beauty to her face; arched, slightly darker eyebrows, an aquiline nose, penetrating blue eyes, high cheekbones, and reddish pink lips that formed an almost sultry mouth; an animated mouth that was so expressive, pouting at me to weaken my resolve, broadening into a stunning smile that tugged at my heart, and lips parting in contagious laughter that seemed to come so readily to her.

She might be old enough now. She was mature enough, I thought, to handle a divorce. It had been deeply frustrating trying to maintain a polite relationship with her mother; I no longer thought of her as my wife. Love and concern for Jasmine was the only reason I'd waited. But now? Yes, it was probably time. I wondered what life would be like without Janice; less stressful probably.

Adolescence had changed Jasmine so much. I remembered her at six years old, reading to her every night; going into her room, seeing her under her covers. It was as if it was only yesterday, bending to kiss Jasmine, inhaling her scent, fruity shampoo and a residual hint of perfume from the soap. Curly blond hair framed her face and chubby cheeks clung to infancy with stubborn determination. When she smiled at me, the sun burst through the grey clouds of my mood, gracing me with dimples, twinkling sapphire eyes, and a missing incisor. She was so cute she made my heart ache.

She'd become my refuge, my private corner of heaven, a balm to my battered ego that was being assaulted by an increasingly distant and caustic wife. I cherished each and every night spent reading to her, the comfort of my daughter nestled to my side, the tiny giggles, little sighs, and most of all, the feeling of peace it gave me, the one part of my day that was mine, unaffected by her mother.

Taking another sip of beer, another memory floated up. Jaz, seven years old, blond curls flying as she raced down the field. "Go Jaz!" I'd yelled, my chest almost aching with pride. Watching her blond hair streaming, small legs pumping and that intense expression on her face was almost as good as when she stopped and grinned at me after scoring a goal. It tore at my heart. My daughter. God I loved her.

I'd been a bit flummoxed with Jasmine's pubescence. Her mother, never around and caring even less, had been no help. I'd tried to help Jasmine with open discussions of puberty and how she was changing. I'd been supportive when she'd got her first period. Overall I thought I'd been pretty good. But Jasmine's developing sexuality had left me stumped. I just didn't know how to handle her increasingly personal attention, her physical touches, cuddling close on the couch. The only thing I could do was to gently discourage it. I wondered if I'd handled it wrong.

Another Loon's haunting cry echoed over the water. It seemed as if the lake was becoming bluish. How interesting. I hadn't noticed that before. I felt so relaxed even the leaves were losing definition, appearing soft-edged. Yes, coming up here was a good decision. I felt good. Glancing at Jasmine again brought back a recent memory.

Standing in the kitchen with my morning mug of coffee in hand and leaning back against the counter, Jasmine had walked in. I'd felt pride swell inside admiring her. In a large Tee with mussed hair and sleepy eyes, she'd looked so cuddly and attractive. Her smile lit a flame of pleasure inside me. "Morning Dad," she'd said so lovingly, walking up to me, her arms slipping behind my waist and face resting on my chest. I'd felt her pressing against me when she was hugging me and, horror of horrors, feeling two petite, firm braless breasts and a slender young body pressed against me, I'd reacted physically. As carefully as I could, I'd extricated myself, turning to the counter to hide the flummoxing physical reaction.

Darkness was almost upon us. Jeez, I was tired. How odd. It seemed as if Jasmine's hair had a bluish tinge, too.

I watched a small motor boat, gurgling as it slowly passed us, the sun almost setting. Why was I getting an erection? I concentrated on the call of the Loons. Their call seemed to go right to my soul, so lonely, almost plaintive and haunting. Perhaps it was the night. Boy that beer went straight to my head. I felt a bit dizzy. It must have been a more tiring drive up from Toronto than I thought.

Man, I was getting a hard erection. Why? It was harder than I ever remembered getting before. Why? I wasn't horny.

The final flare of the sun, its last gasp before settling for the night, lit the tops of the trees making them look as if the tips were on fire. Very pretty. I wondered why I'd never noticed how lovely it was before; almost like a fake painting. I was feeling a bit groggy, my limbs heavy. I must be exhausted. One beer and I was beginning to feel like this?

Another memory surfaced unwittingly. One I thought I'd successfully repressed. Jasmine, my Jasmine, twelve and a half years old, emerging from the house with a shy expectant smile on her pretty face as she looked for my approval; Jasmine in a new lime green and yellow bikini. It was impossible not to admire with pride how puberty had begun, small mounds on her chest, and the gentle flare of hips giving her a waist. My Jasmine growing into such a beauty, with the swell of her small shapely bottom and soft curves of her thighs, long slender legs and walking so ladylike, her hips rolling and sapphire eyes shining with expectation waiting to see what Dad thought.

"You're growing, Jaz, Far too pretty. I'm going to have to buy a shotgun. It might be an idea to let your boyfriends know I'll take no hanky-panky. They touch you, they will die. Fair warning, okay?"

"Daaad," she'd said, a gorgeous rosy blush of pleasure gracing her cheeks.

Why the hell did I have such a rigid erection? That Loon sounded weird. There was something wrong with me. Was I coming down with a cold, or Flu? I'd better get to bed, get some rest.

JASMINE SAW HER FATHER sway unsteadily as he tried to stand. "Here, Dad. Let me help." She put her arm around his trim waist, liking the feel of his hand on her shoulder, and led him to his bedroom. Guiding him, her excitement returned. Dad had an erection! She stared at its outline, a long shaft crossing to his hip. Excitement brought arousal, arousal brought moisture, moisture oozed, panties damp. She clamped her thighs together, a delicious tingle in her clit. Yes, it worked.

"Here Dad, lay down," Jasmine said, turning Dad to sit on his bed, tugging the covers back first.


THAT WAS INTERESTING. IT didn't sound like 'thanks' to my ears. I tried again. "Tnggg."

Huh, what's wrong with my mouth? Maybe I'll stretch out before undressing until I have some strength. How can I be so tired and have a raging erection? "Tnggg." The pillow felt good.

Man Jaz had pretty eyes; blue cenotes with endless depths promising a lifetime of exploration with hidden mysteries never to be revealed. I wished my wife had looked at me just once with that much love. Wouldn't that have been nice?

"Dun." What the hell was that? Jasmine, I can take my own shirt off. How come my arms are so heavy? Wait Jaz, I'll do it! No, leave my pants alone! Can't have my daughter see me in this condition! "Dun!" Fuck. Say 'don't'. "Dun." Jasmine, please don't take my pants off! Please! Oh God. Mortifying, absolutely mortifying! Look at that damned erection. Why was it so damned rigid?

No! She looked! How could she miss the damned tent in my boxers? "Plsss!" Fuck. Jaz, please go away.

JASMINE'S MIND WAS FEVERISH with excitement, her panties moist from her arousal. Dad's erection strained up, tenting his white boxers. She couldn't stop staring as she removed his pants and socks. Leaning over him, she kissed his forehead. "I'll be right back, Dad."

In her room, she undressed, put on a large Tee, and went around the cottage to close and lock the doors before returning to Dad's bedroom, her heart pounding in excitement, twinges of pleasure throbbing in her pussy. Dad, my Dad, all mine, finally.

I BREATHED A SIGH of relief when Jasmine left. Huh, look at that, the corners of the ceiling were rounded and hazy. Why did I have such a determined erection? I wasn't feeling horny. Was that a spider web in the corner? Why does it feel like I'm made of lead?

My attention was drawn by movement; Jasmine at the bedroom door. God, how sweet she looked. So young and innocent, so pretty in the Tee, such lovely long legs, and her face, well, the shyness and hesitancy in her expression was very, very attractive. Why was she shy? Gee, she's a pretty thing. I'm going to have boy troubles. Maybe I'll buy a baseball bat and threaten them.

I tried to talk again. "Wnnn." Well that didn't quite sound right. What was she doing? Helplessly I watched her hands slip up under her Tee. It looked like it had a blue tinge to it, like her hair. Why was everything blue? What was wrong with me? What was she doing? Why couldn't I move? Come on Jim, MOVE!

She slowly wiggled her slender hips, such a lovely shy smile. I inhaled rather sharply when bluish-white panties fell to her ankles. What was Jaz doing? With a herculean effort I tried to move; nothing. With panic building I tried to speak; nothing, nothing.

Helplessly I watched Jaz walk over to me, smile and bend over. Soft, warm lips touched mine. Jaz was kissing me! Don't! Man her lips moved seductively. Where did she learn to suck a lower lip? Her small tongue felt like silk on my lips. Nice.

No, don't.

I was helpless, watching my daughter pull my boxers down, rolling me side to side. I was helpless and mortified when my traitorous erection appeared, inflamed, purple, rigid and throbbing.

I was helpless as an angel's hand gently held my shaft, sapphire eyes shining as they studied my erection. Her squeeze was so gentle, her thumb rubbing the tip so, so exciting. Her gentle stroke felt so good, her hand cupping my testicles, exploring gently, felt amazing. Shame on you, Jim, that's your daughter! What are you doing, Jaz? Don't!

I was helpless as I watched Jaz bend and kiss my erection gently with love, helpless as she kissed the crown, helpless as she parted her seductive silky lips and slid them over my crown. If I'd been able, I'd have groaned watching my daughter's mouth descend over my penis, warm moisture surrounding the head, a tongue caressing me. The dichotomy of the sight of my little girl with my erection in her mouth was strangely arousing. Shame on you, Jim! How could you . . .?

I was helpless as Jasmine held my aching testicles with one hand, stroked my shaft with the other, and bobbed her head up and down. I felt her suck gently, dizzy waves of unwanted pleasure passing through me. I was helpless as my thirteen year old daughter gave me oral sex unlike any I'd experienced, hesitant yet sexy, gentle and exploratory, unbelievably erotic.

And I was helpless as I tried to stop her, "Dnn," my shaft swelling as pressure built in my groin. Please Jaz, please stop! This is so wrong! Stop! Stop! Light faded in the room, shame flooded me, pleasure erupted as I came, semen surging up. Explosions went off inside me as I ejaculated into my daughter's mouth. A huge second surge tore up my traitorous erection. Exquisite pleasure blossomed inside my brain as I exploded into her mouth again. I was helpless as I came over and over, semen leaking from Jaz's silky lips to run down the shaft over her stroking hand, erection swelling, glorious pleasure thundering through me and semen spurting in an intense, mind-blowing climax.

I might have passed out, or closed my eyes. Movement on the bed made me conscious of my surroundings, my mind screaming at me, what did you do?!! Jasmine had just given me a blow job! Why? Why had it felt so damned good? Why so erotic and exciting?

Jasmine was kneeling on the bed, sweet Jasmine looking at me with such pleasure, her smile so satisfied. Why? God but she was a pretty girl, so attractive. Had I asked her to do it? When? As her hands reached for the hem of her Tee, I noticed I was still erect and glistening with semen! How? And it was a hard erection, rigid and pulsing! How?

Her hands distracted me. Don't, Jaz! Please don't.

I was helpless as Jasmine slowly raised the hem of her Tee and pulled it over her head, blond curls tumbling as she pulled it off. I was helpless as I stared at my naked young daughter. I was helpless as I admired the utter beauty of a barely pubescent girl, helpless as I stared in wonder at Mother Nature's grace. Jasmine had stunning little breasts, perfectly symmetrical mounds that defied gravity. Each gorgeous mound was topped by another, raised, puffy pink areolae topped by hard little beads. Shame flooded me when I felt arousal and desire at the sight of my naked daughter. But my God she was beautiful.

I was helpless as I admired her sexy slender body, the taper of her waist, the swell of her bottom resting on her heels as she knelt. Shame intensified when I looked at my daughter's pussy, a plump mound between sexy thighs dusted with a light coat of soft, thin blond pubic hairs, a tiny little bush, so beautiful. I was getting horny despite my mind screaming at me. I helplessly studied her pussy, her alluring cleft that curved down so seductively, the swell of her buttocks, and just barely visible between her seemingly plump labia, the tip of her clitoris.

I was helpless as my daughter lifted her leg and straddled me, soft sapphire eyes burning with lust and arousal, an expression I hadn't seen before but looked so appealing. I was helpless as I watched her inflamed cleft flower open to reveal her clitoral hood. I was horny. God help me but I was really horny when I saw her tiny, tiny vaginal opening, a dark spot deep between moisture-glistening labia. Shame and excitement warred inside me as she held my rigid, semen-slickened erection, rising and pushing the tip towards her pussy.

Please Jaz, don't. No, do. No, don't. I felt so confused.

I was helpless, conflicting desires pounding me when Jaz slid my erection through her delicate moist cleft. The way her plump labia spread around my crown was driving me wild. Feeling the tip catch at her perineum and lodge at her entrance had me sweating, beads popping out at my temples. I wanted; I didn't want. Why did she look so happy? What had she done to me? Jasmine, what are you doing? God she was so pretty.

I was helpless as satisfaction spread on my daughter's pretty face, as I felt her push down, as a tiny, tiny opening dilated slowly, my daughter's pussy slipping over my crown. I was helpless and aroused as she let the shaft go and a tight hot velvet vice grasped my crown. I was helpless as a surge of pleasure hit me from the exquisite feeling of my daughter's pussy slowly slipping down my erection, velvet moisture parting against the tip, tight opening gripping my shaft. I was helpless at my arousal, seeing her small pussy spread so wide, gliding erotically down my semen covered erection and nestling into my groin, her pubis pooching out. Jesus, so stunningly sexy.

Somehow Jasmine had taken me inside her completely. She didn't look as if she was in pain, her eyes shining with arousal, her smile radiant. I was helpless as my daughter rose, her exquisite pussy sliding up. I was helpless as she slowly let herself down, my erection sliding deep inside my daughter's heavenly sheath. I was helpless when she lay down on me, small firm pubescent breasts pressed to my chest, tight pussy gripping and throbbing. I heard her whisper, "So good Daddy. This feels so good."

Yes. No. It was. No, it wasn't.

I was helpless as my daughter fucked me, her incredible pussy rising, slippery and warm, descending; my thick erection clasped inside her sexy, sexy pussy so snugly. I had no way of resisting. I couldn't seem to move. I gave up, the feeling of penetrating my little girl so, so good. I let Jasmine fuck me, helpless to do anything. I let the pure sensuality of my petite daughter writhing on me, her snug pussy massaging me, hips rising and falling, take me away. I felt my arousal storm into me, tightness and weight in my groin. I felt tears slip from the corner of my eyes as my little girl fucked me, so good, so sexy, so damned arousing, so wrong, so wrong.

I was helpless when Jasmine cried out, "Yes, Daddy." I came painfully when I realized my thirteen year old was climaxing, her hips shoving down on my erection with force, burying me deep. Semen charged out, ejaculating deep inside her snug vagina. The room became fuzzy as I spurted deep into her, pleasure and fear overwhelming me. I was helpless as I came ferociously in my baby. A black cloud of unconsciousness descended. Absentmindedly I wondered why I still had a rigid erection buried inside my daughter's tight velvety pussy, our combined moisture soaking my groin. I thought I heard her whisper, "I love you, Daddy," before consciousness fled.

Before the first light of dawn, I woke up with a hangover and an erection. I woke up with someone undulating in my arms. I woke up with an erection buried in a tight, tight vagina, a bum rolling against my groin, and my hand holding a small breast, one with a puffy areola and a hard nipple. I woke up finding myself having intercourse with Jasmine.

Without the excuse of feeling helpless, I let go of her breast, grabbed her slender, bony hip, and fucked her, pulling myself almost completely out of her moist velvet pussy and thrusting in, tugging her back against me, penetrating her deep, her soft buttocks bouncing against me. I fucked her hard almost as punishment, inhaling the aroma of her arousal and sex that wafted up from under the sheet. I fucked my daughter to the music of her mewls, moans and grunts of pleasure.

I fucked Jasmine feeling the heaviness build in my balls, tightness in my groin. I fucked my thirteen year old hard, thrusting deep with desperation building, needing to achieve nirvana. I fucked her harder, yanking her sweet bottom to me, sliding into her incredibly tight vagina until nirvana arrived. Wondering if my daughter was fertile, I came explosively, semen burning up my shaft to burst deep into her pubescent pussy in a blinding wave of pleasure. My rapturous orgasm took control and I came helplessly, spurting deep, spurting painfully, my semen shooting into her little womb, stars bursting behind closed eyes, climaxing harder than I ever had and loving every minute of it.

JASMINE FELT DAD'S ERECTION swell inside her, stretching her even more. She heard Dad's moans, felt his desperation, yanking her hip, shoving hard into her pussy, the tip causing twinges of pain as it battered against her cervix. She actually felt hot wetness flood her, Dad spurting. Her climax crashed into her, taking her breath away. Dad's cumming! Oh God, Daddy, I'm cumming too, I'm cumming!

Sleep stole over her as she lay in post-orgasmic bliss, Dad holding her in his arms, cuddled tight, semen dampening her thigh.

I WOKE UP AGAIN to an empty bed and momentary confusion. For a minute I wondered if it had all been a dream. Had I dreamed of having sex with my daughter? But the scent of Jasmine, sex, and the large wet spot in my bed told me otherwise.

I lay quietly, sounds of pots and pans rattling and cupboards being opened in the kitchen filtering in. I knew, based on how I was feeling, that Jasmine had drugged me, although with what I had no idea. She'd forced herself on me, too. Why? What could have driven her to do something so desperate, so out of character? What drove her to want to have sex with me, her father?

I groaned as I rolled out of bed, still feeling slightly disoriented as I stumbled into the bathroom, abstractly noticing Jasmine's panties on the floor. The shower helped my body, but not my mind. I was still confused. Conflicting emotions passed through me in waves; horror that I'd had intercourse with an underage girl, amazement at how good sex had been, shame that I'd had sex with my daughter, amazement at how exciting it had been.

As I shaved, I began to understand the depth of my dilemma. No matter how I tried, I couldn't dismiss how much I'd enjoyed it, how much pleasure I'd felt. I couldn't deny how arousing it was to have sex with Jasmine, or how the illicitness of incest with my young daughter stirred my blood. Even worse was the incredible sensation of making love to a thirteen year old; something I'd never in my wildest dreams believed could be so damned good; far better than I remembered from my youth.

Yet the social stigma of what had occurred haunted me. I'd done something I'd expressed disgust for when hearing about it in the news. I'd risked my family and, if it was ever uncovered, my freedom. Why had Jasmine done it?

As I dressed, I faced another dilemma. How was I supposed to treat Jasmine now? If I showed disapproval, would I lose her? Would I irreparably hurt her? But if I didn't show disapproval, wasn't I condoning her behaviour, even encouraging her?

And as I pulled my Tee over my head, I recognized one truth, one truth that took precedence over all; I loved my daughter. I could never do anything to hurt her, never, no matter how big the transgression. And recognizing that, I realized I'd have to accept what had happened, accept our relationship had forever been altered.

With that thought, warmth seeped through me, tension and anxiety faded. I liked the feeling, liked the excitement I felt at the prospect of an intimate relationship with Jasmine. I loved her passionately as a daughter and, in fact, felt more excited by her than I'd ever felt for her mother; definitely more desire.

Decision made and feeling a weight lift from my shoulders, I headed to the kitchen.

JASMINE FINISHED FRYING THE maple smoked bacon. Walking over to pour out the fat into the sink, she felt more of Dad's semen leak out into the pad she'd had to put on. But now that the burning desire that had driven her was satiated, reality set in. God, I raped Dad. I drugged and raped him. Will he ever forgive me? Imagining Dad's disapproval, his disappointment in her, brought a prickling of tears to her eyes. She couldn't take that. She couldn't face him. How could she have done it? What had possessed her?

Lost in regrets that sat with a leaden weight in her chest, Jasmine didn't hear her father walk into the kitchen.

I PAUSED IN THE doorway looking at Jasmine. In a large Tee she looked petite, even younger. Yet, her long bare legs, slender and shapely, looked lovely. I liked the way her thick blond hair looked mussed. Warmth of love blossomed in my heart. God, I'd had sex with that angel.

Walking up behind her I slipped my hands around her slim waist, hugging her. "Morning, Sweetheart," I said gently, nestling my face into her neck, inhaling the unique scent of Jasmine. I kissed her neck.

JASMINE TENSED WHEN SHE felt Dad's hands hold her. Guilt hit her hard when he called her "Sweetheart" so gently, so lovingly. Turning quickly, she hugged Dad hard, burying her face in his shoulder, the tears held at bay releasing. "I'm so sorry, Dad."

"Hush, sweetheart. It's okay."

I HUGGED MY CHILD tight, let her cry, the sound hurting my heart.

Reflected sunlight from the lake bounced around the kitchen as we ate. I studied Jasmine, seeing her with a new perspective. Looking at her I realised she was not the little girl I'd been thinking of her as. Jasmine was a young lady, blossoming, maturing. I knew she was remarkably intelligent, so her actions last night confused me. What had made her do something so dramatic?

I ate a rasher of bacon absentmindedly. "Why, sweetheart?"

Somewhat stunned, I sat listening to a daughter explain what at first I thought was an infatuation. Yet all those little things I'd dismissed as exploring developing sexuality, the tight hugs and rubbing her new breasts against me, the caresses of my thigh as we'd sit together, the not-so-subtle brushes of her hand at my crotch, and the lingering kisses that seemed to get closer to my mouth month-by-month, were not, in fact, infatuation.

While it probably started as infatuation, watching Jasmine's animated face as she explained, there was no mistaking the love she felt. I'd never seen such an intense desire, such conviction, in her mother. Watching her, as initial shyness evolved into excitement, blue eyes twinkling at me, smiles becoming broader, and with fragments of last night and this morning popping in and out of my mind, I felt my love blossom. It became stronger. This darling, my angel, loved me, truly loved me. And, really odd, was the pride I felt at her ingeniousness and dedication.

It didn't need chemical help for an erection to form. It only needed the vision of my daughter, thick blond wavy hair mussed, sparkling blue eyes shining with love, beautiful and sexy animated mouth with sensuous lips moving, smiling radiantly at me, and the drape of her soft cotton Tee outlining small, firm pubescent breasts, and I was erect and aroused. I wanted to experience making love to her without the cloud of drugs, or being half asleep.

I wanted to experience making love to my daughter, making love to my girl. I wanted Jasmine more than I'd ever, ever wanted her mother.

Without a word I stood, holding my hand out to her. Her words faded, gorgeous expressive eyes opening wider. I watched the question form in them, the glimmer of hope. I watched my daughter's face transform from my smile; confusion displaced by realization, excitement appear and, tearing at my heart and arousal storming into me, a shy, almost bashful smile grow accompanied by a rosy flush in her cheeks.

Jasmine took my hand. As we walked, she held onto my arm with both hands, rubbing her flushed cheek against me. I led Jasmine to her bedroom. She felt so petite next to me, her hold on my arm so, so good.

Jasmine's room was small; enough for a single bed, an armoire to the right and four-drawer dresser. Extracting my arm from her hold, I turned her by her small shoulders to face me. She stared at me. I let myself fall into her sapphire pools, let the love inside me blossom into heartache.

"Daddy?" she whispered softly.

Bending, I kissed my daughter's soft lips gently.

"It's okay, Sweetheart. This time without drugs. You won't need them."

"Oh, Daddy," Jasmine sighed, her body trembling. She grabbed and hugged me tightly.

This time I wanted to make love to Jasmine; do it properly with a clear head, to appreciate the gift she was offering, the gift of her love, her body. Looking into her eyes, I lifted her Tee. She raised her arms to help me and stood back, letting me see her glorious young body, inviting my inspection. My daughter was beautiful, all the right seductive curves and swells, just delightfully diminutive. Her proud, small breasts, topped with raised pink areolae and tiny nipples, were perfectly symmetrical, gravity-defying marvels. The slight swell of her lower stomach and the flare of developing hips gave her a slim waist. Her panties, small, white cotton, seemed to emphasize the swell of her pubic mound underneath.

Between the narrow gap of her thighs I saw thick padding. For some reason, seeing my darling wearing a pad excited me, young yet fertile, intensely arousing. Bending, I slipped my fingers under the waist band and slipped her panties over the proud swell of her bottom, down over her slender hips and, with bated breath, watched her gorgeous pubescent pussy appear. With a clear head and in daylight her pubic hair was even blonder, making it less evident; a sexy thin dusting of soft young hair that hid nothing. Plump labia formed a sexy cleft, tightly closed and swooping down, curving between her legs, her vulva prominent.

My penis throbbed when I saw the semen-stained pad in the gusset of her panties. Knowing my daughter was carrying my sperm was as erotic as Hell. Panties fell, two dainty feet stepped out of them.

"Don't move, Sweetheart," I instructed gently, tugging at my clothes, shedding them on the floor, staring at the wonder of my daughter, a naked Venus, my Aphrodite. I'd never imagined how seductive and alluring first pubescence could be. The dichotomy of innocence and immaturity with the allure of blossoming puberty was deeply attractive. My daughter was beautiful, so desirable.

With my erection jutting out from me, I reached for Jasmine's hand and led her to her bed. That first touch of skin-on-skin, of being naked with her on the bed, was so stimulating. I let her drown me in sapphire pools of love, bent over her and kissed my daughter, soft receptive lips moving under mine, sensual mouth opening. Jasmine reached for me, tugged and let me feel her small, exciting tongue. As our kiss deepened, arousal built, I pulled my darling to me, felt her small firm breasts press against my chest. I loved how small and fragile she felt in my arms.

Side by side we kissed, in no hurry, luxuriating in the new closeness and intimacy of our relationship. With the palm of my hand I traced her sensuous curves; down her side to her waist, up the gentle rise of her hip, accentuated with her on her side. Slowly, almost worshipfully, I felt the swell of her bottom, how it flared out from her back, a magnificent globe of cooler, silky soft skin that curled in seductively to meet tender thighs. I traced the crease where it joined her thigh, tracing it towards her erotic gap.

Shudders went through me when I felt her moisture on silken, warm labia. Jasmine raised her knee over my thigh, opening herself for me, inviting me to touch her. I spread the mixture of her arousal and my semen along her closed cleft, touched the tip of her clitoris then opened my hand to hold her entire sexy little pussy in my hand, squeezing gently, feeling how it filled my palm so seductively. Kissing Jasmine harder, I played with her silky soft pubic hair, my erection straining and poking her in her stomach. Slippery precum leaked as I caressed her sexy cleft, my erection sliding up her stomach.

I was already horny when Jasmine broke our kiss, "So nice, Daddy," she whispered as she gently held my erection. Her whisper intensified the urgency that was building inside me, a fierce desire to take my daughter.

Pushing her onto her back, I bent and kissed her remarkable breasts. Sucking them, I enjoyed how her areolae puffed up, turning from pink to a darker red, topped with hard little nipples. I wallowed in her sighs, her hands combing through my short hair. Moving down, I kissed her navel, her soft lower stomach, and with the scent of her arousal and my semen in my nose, kissed her plump mound, silky pubic hairs tickling my lips.

JASMINE FELT HER BODY shake with small tremors at Dad's sensual kisses. She could feel her moisture in her cleft. When Dad kissed her pussy, her stomach clenched, arousal storming her. Daddy's kissing my pussy! A firestorm of desire crashed into her. Reaching for his thigh, she tugged, pulling his groin towards her, his mouth locked on her pussy. Turning on her side, she raised her knee to give him access, reached out and guided his hard erection to her, kissing the wet tip, licking the moisture. Groaning when she felt his tongue slip between her labia to tickle her clit, she opened her mouth, slipped her lips over the inflamed head of his erection and slipped it in, her lips stretched, mouth full. Holding the shaft, she caressed the crown with her tongue, feeling intense satisfaction when Dad moaned into her pussy. She probed the tiny hole at the tip and sucked gently, moving her hand off his shaft to cup his testicles. I'm making love with Daddy! I have Daddy in my mouth! She shuddered with excitement. It felt right, perfect, and sexy as hell.

MY ERECTION WAS SWELLING rhythmically. I could feel it grow in Jasmine's mouth, her tongue sending pulses of pleasure through me. With my head between her thighs I teased her tiny hard clit, tasting her musky arousal and my semen. Exploring, the tip of my finger slipped into her tight vagina, a hot silky sheath gripping me. Pushing in, so tight, I searched for her G-spot, the little rough patch and rubbed it, letting my finger slide in and out, so damned erotic.

Jasmine's moans excited me, her hips encouraged me. She was wet and slippery, hot and tight and young and exciting. I followed her rhythm, helped her arousal build, encouraged my daughter's climax. Her mouth pulled off my erection.

"Oh God, Daddy," she cried out softly, her hips jerking.

Moisture flooded my finger, Jasmine's orgasm a sweet symphony in my ears. Intoxicating moisture flooded my mouth as I sucked and probed, riding her orgasm until she calmed.

But now I wanted Jasmine. I wanted my young daughter, wanted her desperately. Moving around I lay between her slender relaxed thighs, kissed her sweaty forehead. Reaching down, I guided myself, soft sexy labia kissing my crown. Sliding the tip up and down, her lips spread, seductively hugging the tip of my erection. "I love you, Jaz," I whispered as the tip nudged to her tiny entrance, her slippery entrance. I was almost there, almost in heaven.

"Daddy," she sighed into my ear as I felt her dilate, her vagina slipping over my crown effortlessly. Need was pounding at me, need to feel myself buried in her. I wanted her more than anyone in the world. In a long, smooth achingly desperate stroke, Jasmine's vaginal walls parted, seductively caressing my straining erection with hot velvet, and I sank into her, deep, tight, intensely arousing.

Reaching under her, I cupped sexy young buttocks and thrust forward until she took me completely; pussy pressed to my groin, so damned good. Pulling back, I thrust again, Jasmine groaning in my ear, her hips curling up, hands tugging my waist. Dizziness hit me when I felt the tip touch her end, a hard, rubbery blockage. I was at the entrance to my little girl's womb. Holding her sweet buttocks, with her hands guiding our pace, we started fucking, long slow strokes, feeling every millimetre of her amazing pussy, feeling her plump sexy mound press to my groin.

Jasmine's legs slipped up my thighs, over my butt and around my waist, emitting little whispers in my ear as I thrust into her, "Yes, yes, like that Daddy."

She started clutching at me when I completely withdrew. Rising, I bent to kiss her small breasts, licking her nipples, sucking her delectable areolae. "Turn over, sweetheart." With my hands, I encouraged Jasmine to roll over, reached under her slender waist and pulled her to her knees. Rising, I stared at the magnificence of her petite ass, so beautiful, so rounded and firm. The way her buttocks parted, the deep crease spreading to reveal her anus and below, her inflamed pussy glistening with moisture, was intensely exciting.

Her cleft was slightly parted, the dark opening to her vagina clear. With a hand on her hip, I guided my erection to her pussy, watching, panting, as it burrowed between soft lips, stretching them, so damned exciting. I watched her pussy stretch around my shaft as I slipped into her tight vagina, labia folding in. I pushed in, slipped in all the way, once again held in her heavenly grasp.

Leaning over her back, I held a perfect pubescent breasts caressing its hard tip with my thumb as I started fucking my little girl, long full strokes, erection swelling. She began to push back at me, little grunts expelled every time my penis thumped into her end and sweet little buttocks slap against my groin. Our strokes picked up urgency, near, I was near. Releasing her small breast, I rose, held her hips, tugged her back and thrust into my daughter deeply, erection swelling. Near, I was near. My eyes were riveted to my glistening erection sliding out, sliding in, God, fucking my Jasmine was so good.

I heard Jasmine gasp loudly. She jerked. I slammed my erection into her snug, moist pussy hard.

"Daddy!" she cried out, shoving back at me.

Jasmine climaxed, squeezing my erection. Oh God, oh God. "Jesus, Baby," I gasped.

Holding her slender hips I shoved into my child hard, penetrating her all the way. Semen charged up my thick shaft, testicles aching. I exploded into her little pussy, semen jetting out in an intense pulse of pleasure. Pulling back, I shoved into her, deep, deep, a massive surge of semen exploding, blinding joy assaulting me. The rapture of an intense orgasm took control, thrusting, spurting, wet slapping sounds mixing with Jasmine's cries. I came hard, achingly hard, and followed Jasmine down when she collapsed onto her front, desperately thrusting and spurting into my little girl's tight pussy and flooding her womb. I heaved into her with dry spurts until the agony of my orgasm released me. Panting, sweating, I felt Jasmine's body jerk under me, her pussy clenching as the last of her climax faded away.

Sitting in peaceful silence, the lake shimmering with the last of the day's sun, a lonely Loon called with its haunting song. Spring was in full swing and soon the mosquitoes and black flies would arrive to harass us.

The cry of a baby cut through the air. Jasmine rose and put her hand on my shoulder.

"Stay, Dad. I'll get her."

She bent and kissed my cheek softly. I watched her walk into the cottage. At seventeen, Jasmine had bloomed into maturity, yet retained the attractiveness of youth. Like me, she was going to be tall and slender. But now, with her milk-engorged breasts, she seemed more curvaceous, lush. Her pregnancy had surprised me, but not her. She'd grinned and looked completely self-satisfied when she'd announced it.

Watching the twitch and sway of her bottom as she left, I couldn't wait for her to heal from the birth. Oral sex was good but I needed to make love to my daughter. I was addicted, helpless from her allure.



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