My Father's Wife - Victorian Father Daughter Incest No3
Publisher: Lot's Cave, Inc.
Farming is an almost desperate endeavor and not one for the feint of heart. I am exhausted every evening for very little crop, certainly not enough to keep my dearest daughter, Jenny, and I fed over the winter months. She realizes how tired her Papa is, and tries so hard to help me through the days and months. And now she has added one more thing to her days and nights...taking care of her Papa's sexual needs.
I need to learn how to ignore these feelings. But as I lay in my bed, my blood is on fire for God knows what, and I begin touching myself. Surely, touching myself isn’t wrong? My hand snakes beneath my covers and begins a slow exploration of my breasts, and down to my woman parts as my legs spread for easier access to that which is making me burn so hot. When I find the little bud that is hard and wanting, I rub it deliciously, liquid fire running through my veins…all culminating in a body spasm that makes me cry out. Goodness gracious! What was that?!?
I lay with my face toward the cabin wall and listen as my daughter pleasures herself. When she cries out, I know she has brought herself to the pinnacle of which most women never arrive if their husbands are not well attentive. But I would be. I would be so attentive to Jenny’s needs that I would have her with child in no time. I would fill her with my seed every day and perhaps twice on Sundays, dammit! How tight is she? How hot is her flesh? God damn me, how swollen is her cunt from her climax?
I grip my cock tightly, and quiet as a mouse squeeze the head repeatedly until I erupt in my hand. I feel the seed through my fingers and wish to the heavens it was in Jenny’s cunt. Once again, I have allowed myself to indulge in the wicked, and then smile because I know, without a doubt, I’ll do it again and again. At least until I can finally banish such thoughts and images from my mind completely. Then I will be at peace.
While breaking our fast the next morning, I look at the face of my precious daughter and cannot resist her beauty as I blurt, “Did it feel good, Jenny?”