Tastes Like Candy Ch. 03

It went on and on, the pleasure indescribable. I felt my cum splashing around inside her. Finally, mercifully, after what seemed like five minutes, my balls were empty. I began to remove my cock slowly. I looked down just in time to see the tip emerge from its tight confines, a single band of cum stretching between the tip of my dick and her cunt. I fell to the side, exhausted.

Both Brandy and I lied on our backs, catching our breaths.

"Daddy, that was amazing. Just what I needed." Brandy said, staring at the ceiling. But I couldn't reply.

The truth was crashing down on me. The gravity of what I had done. I had just had sex with my own daughter! My own flesh and blood! I had crossed that line. I was that type of guy now. I wasn't just a bad daddy now.

I was a horrible father.

The lowest of the low. The worst of the worst. Good fathers don't fuck their daughters. Most bad fathers don't fuck their daughters. Fathers shouldn't fuck their daughters! But I did. I did something so horrible. So awful. I had crossed the line. I wasn't just bad.

I was evil.

What kind of man was I? What kind of father was I? What kind of husband was I? I had just fucking cheated on my wife! With my daughter! I felt the bile rise in my throat. I had to rush from the room.

I was going to be sick.

***********

I was numb.

I lied in my own bed and I knew no sleep was happening even though I was exhausted. It was night now, as it had been when I left Brandy's room. After we had...

I fucked my daughter! I was an awful person. Even though she spurred this whole thing on, I could have escaped. I could have walked away. I could have not cum deep in her cunt!

I knew it was wrong. I knew it was all wrong, but I let it happen anyway. I let my daughter seduce me. I let us have sex. And I had participated. I had been as into it as she had been. I had the choice of where to cum, and I could have chosen anywhere, but I chose to cum deep in her wet, fertile pussy.

Why did my dick jump when I thought that? Why did it turn me on to think of my daughter knocked up with my child? Why did it turn me on to think of her young, voluptuous body, and how, no doubt, she was a prime candidate to be knocked up?

Okay, I admit it: my daughter was extremely attractive. Extremely hot. Extremely sexy. Her body was out of this world. Her tits were huge. Her ass was to die for. I know I'm her dad and I shouldn't notice these things, but I had. That didn't give me the right to do what I did. To have sex with her. Even though she had instigated it. Even though she had seduced me! I had participated, and as her father, I should know better.

I was a failure of a father. My job was to prepare her to be a productive member of society, to teach her to be kind and generous and humble, and to protect her from the darker side of life. But I hadn't. I had indulged her. Indulged her nasty vices. Indulged her nasty fetishes, and in the process, indulged my own. I had taken advantage of my daughter's sluttiness in order to satisfy my own deep-seeded dark urges.

I had dark thoughts of what to do next. Dark thoughts, of maybe ending it all. Of escaping this void of guilt I had just created. Of escaping the damage I had wrought upon my daughter, and my wife, and my life. But I knew I would never do that. I couldn't go through with it.

It really was her fault. She had started this. Ever since she had shown up in my life she had caused nothing but trouble. But she didn't know better. If I had been around. If I had guided her, I could have taught her better. But I didn't, and now look at her. A well-fucked slut thanks to her own father. This really wasn't her fault.

It was my fault.

All of this, all of this trouble was through one bad choice I had made. I went home with Regina Slater. I allowed myself to fuck her, even though, like Brandy, she had instigated it. I cheated on my future wife, even though we were technically broken up, but I knew we would end up together in the end. I had made a mistake. And because of that mistake, I had a child.

Brandy. My child. The only piece of me that would live on once I was gone. The greatest thing any man could accomplish was having a child, and I had done it, by mistake. Sure, she turned out a bit rotten, but that was probably due to how she was raised. Or maybe it was just her nature. But I do know this: she would have been better if I had been there for her. I just know it. She had the potential to be my greatest accomplishment. But she wasn't. She had become a skank. And that was my fault. I wasn't there. I had the potential of having a piece of me live on and have her turn out to be something special. I had taken my greatest accomplishment and thrown it away.

My greatest accomplishment was... Brandy. My daughter. That might have been the most impactful thing I did in my life. Not marrying Linda. Not coaching, or teaching. Brandy. My daughter.

So... maybe the mistake wasn't what I thought. Maybe the mistake wasn't cheating on Linda, because if I hadn't I wouldn't have a child. Maybe the mistake was... not seeing where a relationship with Regina would have taken me.

I played this thought out. Me and Linda had been volatile to say the least. Maybe I should have taken that as a sign we weren't meant to be. It was clear that since I cheated that maybe deep down there was some part of me that needed to be satisfied in a way that Linda couldn't.

Even though Regina was a slut, we seemed very compatible sexually. It was clear now we shared many of the same kinks in bed. And apparently our bodies were very compatible, as I knocked her up in one shot. Sure, I had enjoyed the sex, but I knew it was only a one-night stand. Even though I had the best sex of my life up to that point with her I didn't pursue it any further. I knew a sex based relationship was not for the best. But maybe, I was wrong.

Clearly, a part of me enjoyed nasty sex, considering I had just fucked my own daughter. Maybe... I was meant for someone more like Regina, a person I was compatible with sexually. Even though I loved Linda, maybe nature was telling me it wasn't meant to be. We were sexually active, but she could not conceive, something that was very important to me. But Regina did. What I had done with Regina was on a different level. I had enjoyed it immensely and she gave me what I wanted that night. And she had accomplished that in one night, where Linda couldn't do it in 18 years. Maybe that's a sign. Regina gave me what I had always wanted. But I wasn't there for her. I wasn't there for my daughter. I was with Linda. I lived my life with her.

Even though I said all the right things, the truth was... it ate away at me that I never had children. I always wanted a whole litter of kids. I had sacrificed that desire to be with Linda. I had sacrificed what I really wanted to be with her. So here I was, 40 years old... unsatisfied.

I was unsatisfied. Things should be great, but I wasn't truly happy. Truly fulfilled. The closest I had ever come were those first few days with Brandy and Linda. But it wasn't the same. I hadn't been there with Brandy, my child, for her entire life. I missed out on that. Like the rest of my adulthood, my urge to raise a child was unsatisfied. But Brandy and Linda could not mix. It wasn't going to last with both of them around. Now I had to choose.

Linda was great. She was my wife, my lover, my soul-mate. She was beautiful, and the sex was good. She had matured into a great woman, an effective member of society.

Brandy was... something. She was bratty. She was lazy. She would probably never work a day in her life. But she was beautiful. Gorgeous. Sexy. She was my daughter. And she had become my... lover. And the sex was the best I had ever had. Her body was to die for. Her tits were incredible. Her ass was amazing. She fucked like a lioness. She could suck dick like she was built for it. She was a real slut.

I knew that now. My daughter was a slut. A disgusting fucking whore. A skank who would fuck her own father to get what she wanted. And she wanted me all to herself. She wanted Linda gone. Out of the picture. I knew that now. I should just toss Brandy out. Maybe I had gotten whatever it is I had, this disgusting desire for my own daughter, out of my system. Maybe I could toss her out to the street like the whore she was now and maintain the loving relationship I had with my wife. But that just felt wrong. Not only did it feel wrong kicking my own daughter out, disowning her, it felt wrong because of the bond we shared. A connection I had never felt with anyone before, not Linda, not anyone. I felt a bond that was more than a father-daughter bond. I felt a bond connecting my still throbbing dick to her tight cunt.

If I decided to choose with my dick, I would choose Brandy. But my dick shouldn't be all that matters, right? However, I had chosen with my dick one time before, and that time led me to getting the greatest gift a man could receive: a child. Maybe that was my body trying to tell me something my mind didn't want to hear. That maybe my dick knew what it was doing. Maybe my dick knew what was best for me.

I couldn't believe I was even considering this. I had fucked my daughter, and it was incredible. But she was my daughter. It was so wrong, even though it's what she wanted. She loved getting fucked. She loved me fucking her. It was her decision to fuck me. If it was up to me I never would have instigated anything. I swear. But she made the decision, not me. She took control of the situation. She ran the show. I shouldn't be feeling the guilt. She should. But she didn't. How could she do that? How could she be so unaffected by the fact that she had just had sex with her own father? That she begged her own father to knock her up? She was clearly operating on a different level than I was.

I had to confront the guilt head on. I had fucked my daughter. I had checked out her body from the first time I had met her. I couldn't help it, her body was that incredible. I didn't want to, her body was too good not to look at. But it had escalated and then I fucked her and had the best sex of my life. What I did with Linda didn't compare. I spanked my daughter's hot ass, choked her with my dick, fucked her tight pussy and came deep inside her. I did as much damage as possible and she seemed okay with it. She seemed unaffected. So, if it didn't bother her, what's the problem? She's an adult. So am I. But it seemed so wrong. So nasty. So filthy. So forbidden. So kinky. So... hot.

Why did the thought of fucking my daughter turn me on so much? Was it the naughtiness of the situation? The filthiness of the sex? The excellence of the fucking? Or was it simply that she was a young fucking hottie with an incredible body that was amazing at sex? And did the taboo of daddy-daughter fucking make the sex even better?

Okay, fine, I enjoyed the sex with Brandy. But what now? How do I get out of this mess? Was there a way to save my family? Because it seemed like there was no way out of this. I loved Linda. I did. But sometimes, she could be a bit shrill. A bit judgmental. A bit... barren.

Brandy, she was young. She was energetic, her whole life ahead of her. She was gorgeous. She was sexy. She was fertile. She was built to get fucked. She was built to be pregnant. If I hadn't gotten the job done, someone else would.

I had to choose. Would I go on with my wife and give up on my daughter? Give up on the one part of me that would live on when I was gone to maintain the status quo? Or... try something different and pursue this thing with Brandy? Maybe make something out of her yet. Maybe Brandy was right. Maybe she could change. Maybe she just needed some fatherly discipline. Maybe I could make her into a productive member of society.

What was my future with Linda? Growing old together, doing the same old thing that we have been doing? It would be fun, but a bit... boring. I would be happy, but not satisfied. Nothing with me and her would change from what it was now. Good jobs, good times, good sex. Things would be just that: good.

Except with Brandy, it could be something more. She was my daughter. A new experience I had very little experience in. I could make up for lost time with her and bond with her in a new way. A real father-daughter relationship. But if I chose her, sex would be definitely happening again. Mind-blowing, fucked up nasty sex with my own daughter. Sex that was better than any sex I ever had with Linda. Every aspect of Brandy was better. She would enable me to get the full experience of being a parent. She was younger. She was hotter. She had bigger tits. She had a hotter ass. She fucked better.

The only two negatives were her laziness and the fact that, you know, she was my daughter. Laziness can be changed. You could grow out of that. The daughter thing wouldn't change. But, I had already done it. I had crossed that line. What more harm would it be if I did it again?

The main pros for Linda were that she was my wife, and she was a lot more of a contributor to society. Although, she wasn't exactly changing the world with her work. Her main pro was that we had twenty years of built up loyalty to each other. Twenty years of closeness. Through the good and the bad. But how close can you be if your wife couldn't give you what you always wanted? A child. I know it sounds horrible, nevertheless it was the truth. And it wasn't just that. There were those moments that let me know she had issues that hadn't fully been exorcised yet. Those times where the old her emerged.

Brandy was new. She was fresh. She was interesting. She could give me everything I wanted. Children. The dream of being a parent. Incredible sex. A life of new things, no more of the status quo. It all boiled down to one question:

What kind of man was I?

Was I a loyal, loving husband? Or was I a dirty fucker who wanted to pursue a sexual relationship with my own daughter? I had been there once already. Was that my answer? Was I the asshole father who bangs his slut daughter with the big tits? I didn't feel evil. I didn't feel like a monster. But what made me do it? What made me fuck my daughter? Why wasn't this choice obvious? Why was I looking for a justification to continue fucking my daughter? Any normal person would make this decision instantly!

Maybe I wasn't normal. Maybe... maybe it wasn't my fault. Maybe it wasn't Brandy's either. Maybe it was genetics. Maybe there was something deep inside us that craved what we did. Nasty, dangerous, vigorous sex. Maybe that barrier that existed in most people didn't exist in us, in people like us. That barrier that would prevent most people from even considering sex with someone in their own family.

Maybe that was the problem. It was in our nature. Two people with such similar natures, similar kinks, similar desires... it was hard to keep people like that apart forever. Somehow, someway, fate brought us together. The connection was there, one beyond just a father and daughter, a connection deeper than I had ever felt with Linda. A connection we both felt from the moment we met. A connection that, deep down, let us both know that my dick would end up in her tight pussy eventually, despite the fact we were related. From the beginning I had noticed her... sexually. I had noticed her tits. Her ass. Her gorgeous face. Despite my better judgment, I had noticed her. I had felt that connection, despite the fact we were father and daughter. Maybe... it was just meant to be.

I sat up on the edge of the bed, still nude, covered with dried sweat. The room was dark, the shadows cast long across the floor form the streetlights outside. My dick was hardening at the thought of my daughter, in the next room, waiting for me to take her again. I just knew she would be waiting. I could feel it. I knew exactly how she thought.

I arrived at that question again. Would I stay loyal to my wife, who I had loved for twenty years and had loved me even more, or would I go for this knew thing, this relationship with Brandy? Would I allow my dick to make the choice for me? Did my dick know what was best for me all along? Did my dick know I might have really belonged with Regina, and was meant to start a family with her? Was my dick telling me to fuck Brandy again and ditch my wife in favor of my hot-bodied daughter? Was my dick telling me that was the right choice, because, God, each throb through my dick made that feel more and more like it was the right call? Was I a loving husband, or an incestuous father?

What kind of man was I?

***********

(Brandy)

Daddy was such a good fuck.

I knew he would be. I just knew it. It took a lot of work, a lot of work. It took a lot of glances at my body to get him to fuck me, and for a moment, I was worried he wouldn't take our relationship to the next level. I was worried he wouldn't fuck me. But he did!!!!!! Daddy fucked me! And it was fucking incredible. Daddy was the best fuck of my life. The feeling of his cum deep inside my cunt was indescribable. He fucked the shit out of me. He beat the hell out of my ass. I wouldn't be able to sit down comfortably for a week! But I had learned my lesson. And Daddy learned his.

I knew Daddy would be coming back. I just knew it. That's why I was still wide awake even though it was late at night. That's why I was still naked lying in a sweaty heap on my bed. That's why my finger was circling my clit, keeping myself ready for Daddy's return.

He was probably feeling guilty, you know, for the whole fucking his daughter thing. But the most important thing to him was that I was good pussy. Any man will find a way to get as much pussy as possible. He probably had to find a way to not blame himself, to not feel guilty. Once he figured it out he would be back here, pounding me into oblivion.

This went on for, like, hours. Hours of silence. Hours of me waiting in the dark, rubbing myself. Hours of me waiting for my daddy to return. But I had no doubt he would be coming. And once he did, he would be cumming.

I sensed movement, so I looked to the open doorway. Bathed in shadow stood a figure. A tall, studly figure. I couldn't see his face, but his identity was obvious. His frame looked familiar. His big 'Daddy' muscles looked familiar. And that throbbing piece of meat hanging between his legs, visible to me in silhouette, looked very familiar.

This 'mystery man' stood there looking at me, studying me. I just looked back while still touching myself. This went on for a few moments before he stepped inside. I removed my fingers from my tight cunt and spread my legs in anticipation.

I knew what was about to happen.

***********

(Linda)

I hadn't been this pissed in years. I was literally shaking with rage. That insolent little bitch! She tried sabotaging my work, my livelihood, my coworkers, and for what? Did she want me out of the picture? Did she want her father to herself? I don't know.

I was pissed as I drove 300 miles to pick up another copy of the info that was sent to me. It was all confidential information, blueprints and stuff like that, stuff that couldn't be faxed, and it was enough of a hassle to get the business I was working with to send it over the first time. Luckily, they were understanding and I was able to get my contact to draft me up another copy and wait for me to arrive.

I had planned to get a hotel room and leave early in the morning but I eventually thought, fuck it, I'll head home now.

All I could think about was Brandy. I had never been this angry with someone. I never liked her. Never trusted her. But Marcus was blinded by his fatherly instinct. He was blinded by the fact that he thought it was his duty to help her, but, as cold as it sounds, it really wasn't. They were practically strangers, no fault of his, and they had been apart so long that it was too late for a natural father-daughter relationship to form. They could be acquaintances maybe, but not the parent and child that I think they both hoped to be. It was too late for that. Only a brat like Brandy would expect otherwise.