Date: Fri, 2 Nov 2012 23:22:51 -0400
From: Jacob Schwann <cobschwann@gmail.com>
Subject: 'Cob 'n Pen #26'(bi inc gM cons)[26!28]

'Cob 'n Pen #26'(bi inc gM cons)[26!28]

This is a work of slow erotic fiction (bisexual, incest), adapted without
attribution from personal, family, public, and other sources. It is a
pastiche of original material as well as revised versions of a number of
story fragments borrowed liberally from elsewhere. All of the characters in
this story are portrayed by adults 18 years of age or older. If reading
erotic fiction is illegal where you live, or if you are under age for
reading this type of material, or this is not what you wish to read, please
leave this page now.

Comments welcome: Contact cobschwann@gmail.com.  Thanks for sharing your
own experiences and astonishing fantasies.

A reminder, Nifty needs our donations to post the stories from all the
authors. <http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html>

********************
Cob `n Pen #26

Summary: A brother and sister, Jacob (Cobby) and Penelope (Penny), recall
their first times in the 1930's by a patchwork of letters to a kind doctor
who helped them out of a jam.

Vignettes in this episode: Train Trip; Rooming House; Dad; Daddy's Girl


PENNY  &  DAD, PART A  (for PART B see Cob `n Pen #27)
*
*
*
**********
Dear Uncle Doctor
From PENELOPE
Hamilton Inebriate Asylum,  Friday June 5, 1936 with daddy, first part.

TRAIN TRIP

Okay, okay, it was my idea, all mine.

Cousin Max and mom waved goodbye to me at the Mount Forest train depot
before dawn, but my 15 year old brother Cobby wouldn't come to see me
off. He was sore. He couldn't understand why I had to do it; why I was
going for it to our dad in his rooming house near the provincial Hamilton
Inebriate Asylum where he still received hydrotherapy treatments. I did it
to save my brother's life. Already my brother Cobby and I had done it, been
sexually intimate, for way over a year – yes taboo, illegal, immoral and
all the rest of it.  And IT was great! I ached to have him inside me
again. Cobby was tall and thin and strong and hard and such a boy; I
couldn't get enough of him and of IT.

My brother had the 'Mark of Cain', a curly head of thick crazy red hair and
bits puffing out of his armpits. And he was growing this lovely coiled
pubic hair, twirly strands of bright red at his slender crotch announcing
to the tribe that he was ready – ready to give babies. I was a lot
smaller than Cobby, but I was getting ready too. I had breasts now, little
handfuls; and my boyish hips were a bit wider; and if I looked with a
magnifying glass I was just getting a few wisps of down in my underarms and
on my vulva that someday would match my jet black head of hair.

So my periods, my bloody monthlies, started a few months after I turned 13
the previous November. My brother actually noticed the first spot of
brownish blood on my pink flowered panties when he borrowed them yet again
to beat off [Episode #15]. Just before that I was tense and emotional. I
felt puffed out and had a slight cramp in my belly and back. My breasts
were tender when Cobby manhandled them. But Old Aunt Elsa said that
menarche was the visible sign that let the community know I was growing up
and becoming a woman. Menarche meant that if I had sex, I could make a
baby. So in the old days it was time for the sister having periods to look
for the brother with pubic hair and get to it! That was the old way with
our consanguineous Cainan Faith Community, we `Eaters of Our Own Blood',
who had been hounded half way across the continent for our quaint customs.

Yet if I got pregnant by my brother then the Black Coats, the incest
vigilantes of the Niagara escarpment, would hang and mutilate him out at
the Hanging Tree. He would die. This had happened to our grandfather Josiah
when he was little more than a boy [Episodes #4, #23]. I must not have my
brother's baby because I loved him too much. At the same time, I could not
deny my Cainan curse. So my brother and I tried the old masturbatory
body-rubs and oral kissy-cums and just-in-time pull-outs and harmless
rectal sex and once even used a prophylactic. But it wasn't good enough for
my brother and me, we'd got to go all the way. Penis in vagina – I had
to have it. And as a pubescent Cainan-community girl, it still would be my
fate to conceive by a close family member.  Yes, I would bear a child; but
not my brother's!

From the Mount Forest depot I took the branch line of the Toronto, Grey and
Bruce railway with a change at Orangeville. It was bumpy and slow, always
giving way to the freights, rather than the other way around. I changed
trains for Hamilton in Toronto all by myself that Friday morning; it was
stuffy, over packed and quite hot for early June. The images of the trip
are hazy; the CNR conductor sweltering in his great coat taking my ticket;
the leer of the beery old man in his cigar smoke; the beckoning wink of the
cute young sailor bound wrong-way for Halifax before he passed out on the
seat across from me; the softness of the immense woman with all the luggage
who let me sit beside her by the window.

The passenger coach rocked on the rails as I stretched my feet across to
the opposite seat, playing footsie with the bellbottomed legs of the sleepy
sailor boy. I rested my head against the greasy glass, closed my eyes and
drifted off into daydreams. I thought about my red-headed scampering puppy
of a big brother. He and I'd always been close, not three years apart. He'd
act like I was the older, calling me his `guardian angel', putting up with
my leadings and scoldings. Neither of us was popular in school, or anywhere
else for that matter, except that the sports teams at the Old Drill Hall in
Mount Forest sought us out; I was the showy swimmer and diver, and Cobby a
shy gymnast who climbed rope. Certainly we averted our eyes, but there were
no secrets between us, even in the locker or shower rooms or our shared
bedroom, with the old Schwann family quilt strung up on a clothesline to
keep us apart. The first time we truly felt each other up, my brother and
I, he was already 13 and it was the night of my 11th birthday. I loved
looking at him, so smooth and creamy, the tautness of his skin with the
hint of muscles just below. He was tight, ready to go haywire. We were
nearly naked of course, his thin muscley body sharp in the candle light. I
studied him, so tender and trim, as my hands felt all over, stirred by his
boyish aroma.  His stiff cock bounced around craving contact while we
played doctor with each other [Episodes #13, #14, #15].

That day, when I was on the brink, I let Cobby take my itsy breast knob in
his mouth. He said it was like licking the frosting on a cupcake. His head
bent, his shoulders hunched, my fingers dug into his smooth skin as I felt
his back flex. Then it built deep inside me, and when my brother-lover
gently bit my nipple I exploded. My body thrashed around the bed we were
sharing, jerking up and down. I screamed Jacob's name and told him how I
loved him. Finally as I calmed down, Cobby looked at me, at the smile
plastered all over my face. That told him I liked what he had done. I had
climaxed and he hadn't even touched my kitty-pen, my vagina, as yet.

Cobby called my `pen' his `personal entrance to heaven'; the very center of
his sister. His fingers groped me there, my deep cleft that led to my
core. And it was so very sensitive and receptive to tender touches and
licks. So snug, yet pliable, spreading and opening itself to gentle
probing, giving way to the warm, many ribbed tunnel, a place of
unbelievable coziness, intense heat, and indescribable pleasure for me, and
him too. I thought of how seven months after we'd originally touched, my
brother's skinny cock had pushed in and out of my tightness for our very
first time [Episodes #18, #19, #20, #21, #22]. I'd clench my legs together
to keep his creamy cum up inside me. The feel and the thought of our
innocent incest was deliciously wicked.

I came to think of his `cob' as mine. Jacob's stiff erection was a curious
and truly beautiful sight to me, as inexperienced as I was. His youthful
boyhood, his `cob', resting so small and cute in repose, but quick to
excitement, rapidly reacting to the slightest stimulation, unfurling to its
full hardness and thickness, jutting out proudly from the strands of his
intense red pubic hair. Slimmer than others, I learned, and rather long;
granite hard, yet smooth as melting butter to the touch, the shaft pulsed
with his rapid heartbeats, the rounded velvet head glistened with his
oozing excitement. In my reverie in that jostling train compartment on the
way to Hamilton what I wanted was for my brother to be in there, inside of
me, deeper, yes, like that, a little further, yes, just so...  Oh!  Yes,
please.  Yes!

Suddenly with a gasp I sat bolt upright out of my dreamy trance in the
swaying train, sweaty from the final quivers of my gentle little
surprise-cumming.  I struggled to untangle my legs from those of the sweet
sailor boy across from me. Our little travel game had led his stocking feet
to my crotch, and my toes to the buttoned flap of his navy-blue trousers,
glistening now with the wet pulses of his new emission. His darling young
face melted and the sailor slid beneath the waves of his grog-fog once
more. The massive woman with the packages smiled with understanding. The
beery old man chuckled and gave out a huge puff of obscuring cigar smoke.
Did I really want my brother to take me, and cum inside me when I was
mid-cycle like I was now? What if I were to have Cobby's baby? The old
Cainan family jinx out at the Hanging Tree would be on us.

"I can't think like that," I murmured to the rocking of the coach and the
click of the rails. "They'd cut it off.  He'd die."

***
ROOMING HOUSE

The withered old driver, Morris, picked me up that afternoon in the car
with `Hamilton Inebriate Asylum' in faded gold leaf on the door. He hummed
and sang as he drove the rattle-trap out to where dad was staying. I had
not seen my father for so long. Would he still like me?

Morris was kind, "Don't ya worry child, your father's such a nice handsome
young man, and oh lord is he ever a terrific dancer.  Like dancin', there's
some things ain't done alone, you know.  It takes two to be makin' nice,
two to be makin' up, and two to be makin' whoopee! Ha, ha, ha....  It's
good you get to know him that way."

"I hope I will."

I wondered just what Morris knew as we drove by the rambling red-brick
hospital complex with its wide green lawns and great trees.

Morris pointed out the sights, "A well-managed inebriate asylum reforms a
man by helping him to reform himself."

We pulled up at a rundown house behind a falling-down fence and an untended
flower garden. Nailed to the door frame was a fake wooden head stone with
the epitaph: "I shall abstain. Here lies Lucifer and all his friends, may
he not include me." Of course dad was working during the day at the state
farm, so the aged driver showed me around the old clapboard boarding house
where a few of the day patients stayed. It was tidy inside, well swept bare
wood that had once been painted, but it smelled like the locker room at the
Old Drill Hall gymnasium.

"You get some rest now, child," Morris droned as he waved a friendly
goodbye from the stairwell. "Have a nap, you'll surely need it for later,"
he grinned deeply.  "I know you two'll have the best of times tonight.  Ha,
ha ha...."

The common bathroom and tub in the upstairs hall were clean enough and I
washed all over amidst the odor of bleach.  I climbed the stairs to the
third floor attic, divided into four tiny rooms. Dad's was the first door I
tried; my father's tangy, spicy scent was unmistakable. I took a deep
breath, some part of me felt at home, and it was all going to be okay. The
ceiling sloped, a gentle upper slope and a steeper lower slope, with a
single large window set into the mansard roof. The cranberry-colored glass
bottles on the window sash brought in the daylight like stained glass so
everything was red. The crimson Persian carpets were threadbare but
friendly. His room had a tiny cot behind an old cherry-colored silk screen,
and a sink and hot plate with a little table and two straight chairs, and a
great big broken down ruby-red davenport covered in fuzzy blankets for me
to sleep on. I collapsed exhausted on the couch, knocking over a smelly
heap of dad's clothes.  I noticed a pair of his undershorts. I
absentmindedly picked them up and sniffed. Mmm, my father's spicy smell!
There was a fresh stain on the washed-out blue cotton, a thick white stain
that I knew after all this time. Daddy's cum. I inhaled deeply once more
and pressed his stained shorts to my breasts. It took me back to our `Great
Game' times when I was little and daddy played with me on the couch in the
parsonage parlor and pushed his big thing against me [Episode #3].

Feeling my vagina tinkle, I slipped my fingers down my stomach and into my
panties, fingering that hard nub of a clitoris that was begging for my
attention. My kitty was so wet that it felt greasy to the touch, making it
hard for me to get a hold on it. My fingers swept over it again and
again. I was moaning, my fluids trickling down between my legs. Without
thinking I rammed a bit of daddy's cum-stained shorts up inside me. I
thought of when I was so very little and daddy's tongue pierced me
there. Scary, but it had felt good. Still rubbing, I shuddered, my body
nearly convulsing, as my vagina tightened violently around my fingers. I
came so hard I kicked my legs out. The rush of juices broke loose from my
kitty and coated my fingers and dad's underwear. I suddenly realized what I
was doing, and in embarrassment stuffed the stained blue cotton shorts
beneath the sofa pillow. It was then I fell asleep.

I woke up later that afternoon and got right to it, straightening up, and
sweeping out. I washed my socks and under things and daddy's sweaty work
outfits in the sink and I hung them on the clothes pole in the hot sun out
behind the boarding house. Morris showed me the vegetable patch and chicken
coop and said to help myself. He watched pretty close and whistled softly
when I bent way over to get a few eggs and some of the early greens that
emerged among the weeds in the little garden. I began to think about what
dad would want to see when he came back. Maybe it was best if I removed
everything. I dashed upstairs with the dry laundry and flung my blue school
jumper on the floor and sat on the couch. I quick took another sponge bath
at the sink then I stepped into my fresh underwear and one of dad's faded
flannel shirts, now smelling of clean air and sunshine.

I checked myself in the mirror with just my panties and his nice long
shirt. I was built like a boy, slim and hard and smooth and supple as a
sapling. I was a swimmer after all. I swelled with a little bit of pride. I
pulled my undies so far up into my crotch that half of each round buttock
popped out from the bottom borders below. That part, at least, looked like
it was truly 13.  And I had breasts. My slight cleavage with the nipples
poking at dad's shirt was suggestive, and just looking at myself I started
to get a little hot. I'd always liked being watched, would daddy notice the
change in me?

***
DAD

Very late in the day, steps pounded up the squeaky stairs taking them two
at a time. I pulled myself back to reality as a tall ball of lightening
burst into the hot room. Here was my dad, Jesse. Sinewy and strong and
really intense, it was my father home from his work day, smelling of hay
and horses. All big and blond with bushy eyebrows and moustache, he rushed
forward to put his strong arms around me and lifted me with ease, like I
was a willowy bale of hay. His stringy sweaty body was sturdy and somehow
it was soothing feeling his tough hands grip against my back like when I
was small. He stared at me; his gaze burning on my skin. There it was, that
tang again, so musky and full. I grabbed him hard. Pulling me close, his
hands tightened on my waist. We hugged each other. This was not just a
reunion; it was a molten welding, a joining together. The suspense of that
day was so great. After all I was just 13, a little girl aspiring to be a
woman, and this was my father. Everything was so new to me. Every feeling
and every sensation was a new discovery.

Laughing, my daddy toyed with the words of that old sea shanty, "I-I-I am
the randy Norseman home from the sea; I come to seek my sweetheart to grant
my need.  So lay upon the bed there and take my seed!  Sing HO! for the
ox-eyed man!"

I was shaken by the speed and bluntness of his greeting, but happy he had
made the initial move. Not for the first time I noticed the spread of his
shoulders, and how well he moved. For a tall man, he slipped about with a
casual ease. Ever the good-looking boy, he paused again to run his hand
through his golden hair.

"Honey, I-I-I missed you so much," his eyes filled with tears as he quickly
kissed my forehead.  "Great Aunt Elsa's letter said you'd be here for...,
well, you know..., I guess. Curse of Cainan, and all that.  I-I-I've wanted
to see you again, you know after they sent me away.  But they wouldn't let
me....  You know."

"I know daddy.  I know."

They had taken him away for drunkenness and pedophilia when I was 10,
though he did make supervised home visits at Christmas and midsummer. I was
13 now, a very grown up 13 I thought, not tall, but with long black hair
and our family's' ox-eyes.  Our dad was about 29, which seemed so very
mature to me then. I held him tighter, glad that my pointy breasts were
pressing into his hard belly through the borrowed shirt.

"Delicious!" He smiled hungrily, "You've grown, but you are short, aren't
you?"

It was true. My head barely came up to his chest; I could stand erect under
my father's outstretched arm.

"But I'm strong!"

Looking about the room and at me he was flabbergasted that the place was
cleaned up, and I was there in his old flannel shirt and little else.

"Everything's higgelty-piggelty.  Sorry about the mess." He nearly wept,
"About all the messes."

He tugged at a newspaper on the couch as though to clean up further, and
out fell his blue cotton undershorts that I had crammed under there. We
both stared at his crusty semen stain. Was it still damp with my kitty
juices? As if against his will, he held it to his nose and breathed in my
aroma, gaping at me. He went all red instantly, and struggled to speak.

"Penelope?  Uhh...," his words stumbled out unfiltered. "Do you remember
when...  Do you remember when you were little and we used to fool around
and play with each other?"

"How could I forget something like that, daddy?" I said. "And I have your
diary letter, your memoir, from the Japanese 'rocket art' book in the back
of the closet.  Remember?" [Episode #21]

"About our `Great Game'?  Yeah, I sure do.  You were really young though."

"I do remember, daddy.  Everything." I was being very matter of fact. In a
sing-song voice I sang the lines from our old game, " `I love you!  And you
love me!  Here comes daddy!  One, two, three!' "

Our eyes locked, our identical ox-eyes, and I could feel myself melting
toward my father as if I were that little girl again, loving him and
knowing him as physically powerful and keeping it a secret.  To let him see
that all was forgiven, and in fact was okay, I handed him a freshly washed
and dried towel and white undershorts and imperiously packed him off to the
second floor bathroom. When he came back up stairs, shaved and scrubbed
pink with the towel over his shoulder, he had nothing on save the white
shorts. He presented himself to me for inspection. Always in charge, I
looked him over. He was magnificent. My brother Cobby would be that tall
someday, taller likely, though much more narrow. Our agile daddy was broad
with sharp muscles, finely chiseled, obviously in good shape; with so
little on you could see what a great body he had. He checked himself in the
mirror with me watching, as always running his hand through his wavy yellow
hair, flexing and stretching his chest and arm muscles, and leaning in to
take a whiff of his own armpit.

"Oh, daddy!"

He turned and stared at me up and down with his electric eyes, gawking at
me. Given my own exciting pubertal changes, I immediately sensed him as a
virile male animal, fit and sensual, a perfect mate. He was so handsome,
whether he was smiling or just sitting still. He was so kind and good and
beautiful.

"Let's face it," I surprised myself by saying out loud, "no one compares to
my dad!"

We both laughed. For supper, I spread the newspaper as a sort of make-do
table cloth on the wobbly kitchen table. We sat around it on the wooden
chairs in our underwear, just like we used to do at home. Using the
hotplate I fried up some eggs along with a can of Franco-American spaghetti
from the shelf and the few greens. We ate in the sultry dusk, scrutinizing
one another over each forkful, chatting all the time. The breeze coming in
through the open window was cooler. The evening was darkening, yet rather
than pull the string for the overhead light bulb, I lit the kerosene
lamp. Its red glass chimney sent a lurid, crimson glow all about the room,
the carpets and sofa and us; it looked like a scarlet brothel out of a
book, and we its clientele. The game excited me.

Daddy stood up and stepped to the little sink to rinse off the dishes.  I
had little to look at except the deeply tanned muscles of his back. The
stark rounded white of his buttocks peeped over the band of his underwear.
Really, I thought, any girl hunting for a boyfriend might fancy someone
like him. I wanted to reach out and grab him. Daddy turned and stared
intently at the newspaper on the kitchen table, murmuring. I looked at what
he was reading and saw an advertisement for women's foundation
garments. There was a picture of this one girl modeling a brassiere who had
the most beautiful breasts I'd ever seen. Even daddy had made some sort of
noise at the sight of them.

"Wow," I said sitting up in my chair. "Get a view of them udders!"

"Yeah," he nodded, and then remembered who he was talking with and said,
"That's not very proper."

"Daddy," I said more softly, glancing down at my own chest, "I guess I just
wanted to know, from a man's point of view, if these were really nice."

"Honey," he sighed. "All breasts are nice as far as men are concerned." And
sensing my self doubt, "You are fine just the way you are; don't worry
about such silly things."

He stepped toward me, gently straightening his faded flannel shirt on me so
that it covered my shoulders and all. Without a moment's hesitation I undid
a few more buttons and pulled the floppy top wide open. He looked over,
eyes bulging, with his mouth wide.

"I don't know," I said in an uncertain voice. "Do you think mine will get
like those?"

He tried to maintain his daddy calmness as I saw him looking down longingly
at my modest but quite perky breasts which were slowly sliding out from
under the shirt. I realized then just how much I wanted him to keep looking
at me, and how badly I wanted his strong rough hands touching me.

"Daddy, don't you think mine could be better?  Feel how they aren't full
yet."

"Uh..., Penelope..."

I shrugged the shirt wider apart and took his trembling hand to place it
innocently on the cheeky cone of my bare breast.  The nipple he touched got
hard almost instantly and as casually as I could I started to play with my
other one to make it hard too. The look on my father's face told me that he
was scared but that he did not want to take his hand off of me.

"Uh, I-I-I do prefer these natural type of breasts," he mumbled, "over
those in the newspapers.  Why don't you ask your mother about such things?"

I looked up to him, as he stood muscle-tense and tall before me, his
fingers of his other hand caressing my hair.

"Daddy?" I begged, recalling another old game of ours. "Will you give me a
good night kiss?"

This was a kissy part of the `Great Game' we had played. I stood on tiptoe
right before him to reach around his neck, and suddenly my tongue was
inside his mouth, moving about, trying to find my father's tongue. This was
also a trick from the old days. He seemed to sway on his feet but his
tongue was quickly inside my mouth, and then just as quickly pulled out. He
took a step back, uncertain, but soon gripped me like in a vice and bent
down to kiss me back hard. With a strangled moan, his teeth scraped against
my lips, his deep kiss getting more insistent, matching mine. I pressed
against my big, strong father, rubbing side to side ever so slightly,
feeling my bare nipples squashed into his chest hairs, taking delight in
the lump I felt hiding in his under drawers.

"Oh daddy!  We haven't had a good-night kiss like that in a long time!"

"Great Mother!"  He was red faced and panted a bit as he pushed away, "So,
that was..., that was a good night kiss, huh?"

He stared at my little breasts poking from the gaping shirt front. I took
his hand and drew him to the couch, and fussed at him to sit down at one
end. I curled up with my head on his lap like the old days, looking up at
him. He was sweaty, hot, and his muscular body was tense. With my shirt
undone and breasts still out, I cuddled up on his underwear, feeling his
quickly filling cock against my cheek. He tried to wriggle into a different
position but I just moved with him. I put a hand on his sturdy thigh and
started to innocently draw imaginary circles over his muscles, stroking up
and down and closer to his hard cock. Here was another game we used to play
when I was small. He never moved. I'm pretty sure he was holding his
breath. I pushed my hand into his lap like I was plumping up a little
pillow.

"Oh..., Penny...  Now.  Please...  Don't.  Hmm, stop that..."

I sighed. "You used to like it when I did this kind of thing.  You'd pick
me up and hold me in your lap and snuggle with me.  Remember?  You don't do
that anymore."

"But you are not a little girl anymore."

I lay with my head in his lap. He fiddled with the Crosley radio dial and
got a hot dance band from Chicago. He fondled my long black hair, then my
shoulders then my arms as we pretended to listen to the music and the
grinding of late farm trucks rattling by in the street. The full moon began
to fill the upper half of the window.

"Will you kiss my breasts good night like you used to?  To help them grow,
yes!"

I looked up at him with my eyes welling tears, pouting. My handsome daddy
stared at me astonished, slowly shaking his head and taking deep
breaths. His face was green with fear; was he going to be sick? No, as
though against his will his features gave way to a forbidden hankering look
of greedy desire, wide-eyed like a kid staring into a cookie jar. I
immediately sat up to face him.

Still sitting on the couch, he raised me up and I scrambled up on my knees,
straddling his legs to face him. I settled my bottom into the curve of his
lap. My cute bare breasts were nearly at his eye level. Daddy stared at me
bug-eyed. He seemed hungry, licking his lips. He leaned forward to peck
politely at my swelling breasts, now turned pink by the light from the
kerosene lamp.

He couldn't stop himself, "Your breasts.  They are perfect.  Such beautiful
little breasts I have never seen."

My fine-looking father stared at me. Under his watchful eye, I ran my hands
beneath my modest breasts, cupping them in my palms, as though I were
showing him small fruits. He started touching my breasts again, as an
appreciative farmer might value the very best produce. He leaned over
toward me on the sofa, and with slow teasing movements he outlined my baby
aureoles with the tip of his tongue. I sighed as he took one of my nipples
in his lips. When hard, he started nibbling it tenderly. He made animal
noises of need as he kissed, then licked, then sucked hard and harder on my
stiff little nipples. His head wagged between each breast, sucking on one
while the other stiff nipple was flicked and massaged with his fingers. His
breath was hot on my skin as his mouth tried to take in all of my breast
and sucked until it at once hurt me and at the same time sent those
scrumptious sparks deep in my belly. I remember feeling my little kitty-pen
get soaking wet at that moment. I threw my head back and whimpered as the
sweet sensations of a `surprise' rolled over me for the first time with my
father that evening. I trembled, my body gently turning inside out.

"Yum!  Oooh-h-h...  Ouch!  Mmm, daddy, please..."

His eyes seemed to wink at me as he suckled my teat more softly. I wiggled
and wrapped my arms around his neck and nestled closer, holding him to me.
I pushed my nose into the side of his neck, breathing deeply of his scent.

"Well, Penelope...  It seems things have moved forward from those other
times we were together, even the first times.  I-I-I sense a new
connection, far more intense and exciting, between us, and..."

There was something more he wanted to say.

"...And I-I-I'm consumed with the need to touch you, my daughter, to hold
you.  May I?  Oh Great Mother!  I'm as awkward as a kid at his first
dance!"

***
DADDY'S  GIRL

We spent a moment just looking at one another, he in only his tight
undershorts, and me framed by his completely unbuttoned flannel shirt and
my panties.

"I love you...  And you love me..."  This time it was my dad whispering our
old `Great Game' song, "Here comes daddy...  One, two, three..."

He slipped a hand into the hair at the nape of my neck. I leaned forward,
forcing him to look at me. He kissed my lips gently. I stuck my tongue out
and licked along his lips, then placed my lips firmly against his, pushing
my tongue strongly into his mouth, making him kiss me again. He attacked my
mouth this time, piercing me, assaulting my senses with teeth and tongue. I
couldn't breathe when his mouth left mine to travel across my jaw and down
my neck, urgent.

"Ohh, daddy.  Yes," I sighed, dropping my head backwards, my fingers in his
thick blond hair.

Slouching on the sofa, he tugged me to rise up on my knees and lean toward
him. He ran his hand over my arm, and down my side as his faded blue shirt
I wore slipped open on my shoulders, exposing my waist and hips to him.  I
kneeled on the sofa, my legs split wide over his lap, arching my back and
forcing his head lower down on my body. He didn't pull away.  His lips
smacked my flat belly causing me to spasm involuntarily. I waggled my hips;
my undies were about to fall off. He slipped his fingers into the top of my
panties and jerked them the rest of the way down. I maneuvered them off my
legs and on to the floor so I was nude down below, with a knee on either
side of him on the couch. Here I was exposed before him, just like when I
was a tiny child. I moved my hand to rub myself between my little labia,
but he shoved my arm away as he bent down. I smiled as he took my hips and
steered me towards his waiting mouth. Desperate for his next touch, I
leaned my head back, my fingers stroking my own long, black hair.

"Oh baby," daddy sighed, gazing at my young body.  "I-I-I want to taste
you."

"That's nasty, daddy," I teased him.  "No."

"Just let me try it.  You'll love it.  It will feel really good."

"Well..., okay."

And I let him. My hands were on the back of the couch on either side of
him, and I began to raise myself a bit with my legs. One of his rough hands
gripped my bare bottom, digging into my flesh to give pain as he
man-handled me up at him. Yet his teasing fingers played about my buttocks
to gently probe inside my bum hole and propelled my crotch to his eager
face. Barely able to hold myself up on shaking legs, my hand traveled all
over daddy's strong back, trying to memorize everything my fingers felt. He
started by softly kissing the inside of my thighs beginning at my
knees. The sensation of his smooth lips against my skin felt so good! He
was tracing circles up my thigh with his tongue stopping right at the top
of my leg. Then he did it on the other leg. I could hardly stand it. I
quivered. I looked down to see his face next to my spread thighs. My vulva
stretched wide as his other strong hand moved between my legs, spreading
them, all the while looking at my waiting kitty-pen. His face was so
close. I felt his breath as he deeply inhaled my scent.

"I can sense your excitement," he said, "the smell of your love juice fills
the room."

"Daddy!"

I closed my eyes and panted at the feel of his warm lips on my naked skin
down there once again, our `Great Game' after such a very long time. The
old familiar electric sensation glowed deep inside, between my legs, and
felt ever more intense and never to be forgotten. I dug my fingers hard
into his back when I felt his breath on my vulva.

"Oh, Penelope. To feel your soft skin once more," he trilled, "...to inhale
your sweet aroma.  This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

I whispered, "I wish we could stay like this forever."

My daddy hoisted my crotch to his mouth, burying his face between my
legs. He kissed my mound, gently; the tickle of his moustache on my inner
thigh exciting me. He slowly slid his tongue over my vulva. Avoiding my
slit, he teased me, licking each swollen lip in turn. By the time he truly
made it to my kitty-pen, I was so wet that I could feel the wetness
dripping down my legs. Then he parted those lips and spread them further
with his tongue, and started gently flicking me.  I stretched back, eyes
closed, and wave after wave of slow pleasure began to roll over me. The
excited groans I heard were my own. We had done this in the past, but my
body feelings now were higher and hotter and I wanted more. He kept sucking
and rubbing me, slipping his tongue over my swollen clitoris. Daddy's
tongue toyed with it, making little circles around it until he took my clit
into his mouth and sucked. I was moaning and pulling his head closer hoping
he wouldn't stop. He began to lap up my drips, sucking my clitoris faster
and deeper into his ravenous mouth. I spread my legs wider and pushed him
along hard. His head bobbed up and down under my hand as my father tongued
me. I'd never felt anything so wonderful in my life. I submerged in my own
pleasure. I heard myself groaning loudly and I could see that it turned him
on even more. I was on the brink of my climax, feeling it build deep inside
of me.

I called brokenly, "I'm going to cum, daddy!"

And when my father-lover gently bit my clitoris, I began to cum in his
face. I exploded into the most intense orgasm. The warmth in my belly grew
as I shrieked in glee, not wanting the pleasure to ever end.

I screamed the cry from our old 'Great Game', "I am daddy's little girl!"

Hugs and kisses, from PENELOPE
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<To be continued.>

PENELOPE & DAD, PART B. coming up in Episode #27