Vol 2, Issue 1 -
Ross: Daddy's Little Whore, uh, Seductress
Sexy middle-aged stepdad, Ross Deever, wakes naked beside his newly deflowered, multi-racial stepdaughter, Laila; then vainly tries abstaining from hitting it again. And again. With a vengeance.
"I've been a good dad, but my little girl's come of age, and she can't get enough of what I have to put inside her, in bed, on the kitchen table, on all fours, begging for it from behind, like a bitch in heat, and our little bath together, not like old times at all. And sweet Laila wants to taste my cum, but I'll teach my little schoolgirl what she's ignorant of: swallowing my whole cock, drinking my cum, and an unexpected, hot cum pie facial, like she encouraged for her enemy. I am gonna rot in Hell."
Individual story volume.
Kitchen table spread, incestuous doggy bang on kitchen floor, and an extensive private lesson in proper cocksucking, her first swallow, and her first facial. Shower masturbation, kitchen table, doggy on kitchen floor, and an extensive private lesson in cocksucking, happy incest, willing incest
NCA JOURNAL 1 is Adult Erotic Fiction, the compiled short stories from:
PRINT BOOK and EBOOK [epub, pdf, kindle]
[several of single story editions BANNED by Amazon Kindle! & Google Play! ]
father daughter incest stories, incest rape, anal sex, rape sex, rape stories, virgin sex, teen ass, anal sex, cock sucking / sucking cock, public sex, and more...
I’d felt touch deprived, and certainly cunt-deprived. I haven’t been with anyone in so long. She feels good, damn good, like fucking living, writhing silk; she tastes good, too; damn, she is good, and innocent, her dripping wet, teen cunt muscular tight, sucking and milking my lengthy club dry. The perfect dream night. The perfect fuck—.
I woke. Early morning dick, fat and hard as granite. Great dream. Almost.
I sat up, threw the covers back off my nakedness and put my big feet on the floor — on top a used condom; the lambskin membrane [Durex®] kind. She’s allergic to latex, so’s her mother. And, there was another “rubber” on top of the trash.
I absolutely didn’t want to look. Like absolutely not wanting to rip off an adhesive bandage stuck securely to your tender, hairy balls. Rip it off fast or peel excruciatingly slow? I’d usually choose slow, after a long hot soak, but I swiveled ’round, saw her, and leaped off the bed and halfway across the room.
Not a fucking dream. A horny, fucking nightmare!
I’d fingered her, and fingerfucked her. One long, thick finger. Two. Three. Opening her, widening her musky, pristine virgin passage, until she’d wiggled furiously on my long, thick fingers, and because of them, maddened by them, by me, she’d cried out, begging her daddy, begging me to really fuck her.
Or had I imagined that?
Imagined that she’d begged for more than tongue and fingers, and I’d given it. That she’d willingly parted her knees higher and wider, inviting me to slide my so eager, fat cockhead and hard, thick shaft into her all the way to my aching, hairy, middle-aged balls.
“Daddy, you made my little pussy so deliciously sore.”
Laila’s voice was a distracting, disconcerting warm purr in my ear, as she kissed my neck, her arms draped around my shoulders, her wireframes against my skin, and her apple breasts against my broad back.
I’d been drafting — or at least at my drafting design board — doing very little all day. My studio and forge are behind and attached to the house, with the residence facing one street and the business a private mews. She’d snuck up behind me, in my dazed distraction, and she’d stepped up on the chair’s foot rail, and slipped her arms tightly around me.
Her arms around me isn’t unusual. Kissing me isn’t, either. But the purring, like that, in my ear, making my balls ache with those words, was . . . unusual. I’d washed the bed linen, hidden her pushup bra and lace hipster panties, still smelling of her and crinkly with her dried, sweet pussy juice, and I’d garbage bagged the used condoms.
An entirely in vain, comic activity while I’d been seriously endeavoring a false pretense. Yet it always seems somehow to work in novels, sitcoms, and soap operas.
I, unfortunately, never could boldface lie to her, especially if the lie wasn’t to outright protect her. Now, lie to her mother; yes, that I can do, like a breeze, but to Valedictorian frontrunner Laila, the darling owner of my heart, and now growing stone hard cock, no.
“W-Watch your language, Laila.”
She chuckled, kind of nasty and deep in her throat, right in my ear, not a girlish giggle, or nervous one. A sexy one. That sound went straight through my ear drum to my balls, making them tighten and sweat.
We’d broken more than one barrier last night; her virginity, her innocence, our long-standing clean language taboo. And the most important: parent and child.
“Get off me, Laila. I’m you’re father not one of your wannabe boyfriends.”
She slipped her hand into my open shirt neck to touch bare, hairy chest and scratch at my nipple, which hardened up so tight under her greedy little fingertips and short, polish-free nails that I felt it like an alarm going off, all the way down to my scrotum, and that alarm went up and up, many decibels inside me when she kissed me a second time, on my neck which unraveled me; and she also included a little cock-stirring bite of my ear, that took my breath away.
The wrong thing to say, said in the wrong way, as I....
I remembered her smell, her taste, the way she felt — her bold eagerness to be taken by me — and I needed to feel her against me, now, as I stood over her and she leaned back until she was against me.
She dried her hands then took my big hands in her tiny ones and placed them over her petite, pert breasts. My hands eagerly found their way under her shirt, which she slowly pulled up over her little tits, so I could see her pert little titties in my large, hardened palms, as I tweaked them, played with them, and heard her breathing change.
Laila was undoing her shorts.
“I’ll get that, baby.”
My hand seemed enormous as it slid down her brown belly, deep into her peachy short shorts, and she moaned, as the musky heat rising out of her pubes made my mouth water, and my balls ache. There wasn’t room really for all that was in those tight, little shorts, as I stroked and fingered her, as she held my big hand down between her thighs.
“Don’t stop, Daddy.”
Not happening, as I whispered hot, obscene things in her innocent ear, kissing her neck, nibbling her tiny earlobe.
Whether I led her or she led me over to the table, I no longer recall. I do recall her willing eagerness in pushing down her shorts without panties beneath, now musky and soaked with her anticipation’s wet lust. I stared at her wild, untrimmed garden.
My pants dropped, too, and my fingers slid through her profusely slick valley. I…
I fucked her, facing her, kissing her, watching her react to me, watching her little titties under her pulled up shirt. Her titties jumped and jiggled at every move, as she pulled her knees hide and wide and saw and felt what I did to her, filled her; nearly letting her cum, then making her wait, as I fucked her, controlled and directed her wanton, young lust — giving her my full parental guidance in her sexual education.
My thick, experienced cock slipping in and out of her petite, fresh, and so damn juicy cunt.
Both of us laughing for the joy of being together like this, as she dropped a shoe to put a tiny bare foot on my black and grizzle haired chest, before I kissed that foot and sucked it ‘til I stirred my dick in her and hit something special in her — Laila gasped then moaned, her toes popped out my hot mouth, and her cunt sucked hard on me.
Sweet, like hot apple pie.
I picked her up and put her on the floor where I kept fucking her as I turned her this way and that, to find that right, extra special position.
“Doggy style, Laila. Just right for a randy little bitch in heat like you.”
Rough, black Rottweiler mounting petite, dark red Spaniel, and the Spaniel begged.
“Oh, Daddy, don’t stop. Fuck me. Oh, fuck me.” Her voice was sweet, low, and pleading, as I fuck her.
It was a perfect position, fucking like dogs, like animals in the fucking wild, easy to hit the right spots inside her, yet core her deep. I had her good. Every time I fucked back into her, she’d say a little “uh.”
“Uh, uh, uh, uh.” Laila’s fascinated with words and meanings, loves her words, loves to talk, to manipulate with her words; she couldn’t talk now, she was too fucking close to her heat’s edge.
I shoved her head down by the neck, like you do a horny bitch in an alleyway, tilting her so I sank deeper in…
….and then I gave her more instructions in being her Daddy’s Whore.
“Relax your throat, baby, like you do for church choir and girl’s glee club. That’s it. Damn, what a fine, eager slut you are, take it all, baby girl.” She was taking an admirable amount of my length down her throat, as I filled her.
She choked, looking a bit scared. I pulled out and let her relax, as I stroked her face and hair, but didn’t let her pull away.
“Daddy’s bigger than you thought, isn’t he?” She nodded, but eventually licked her lips and….
[There's LOTS more.... ;-) ]
Our hardcore main line
[sensuality is R, NC17, X, XXX]
medium and hard erotica / sensual romance / romantic erotica
Our softcore line
[sensuality is PG13, Soft R]
soft erotica / sensual romance / romantic erotica and general fiction
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[PG13, R, NC17, X, XXX]
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Copyright 2015/2016 Neale Sourna
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