The Same But Different

"Dad!" she cried out. "I'm- something... oh, Jesus, this is amazing! I think I'm gonna- oh, Dad, keep fucking me!" I obeyed her demand and kept up my pace, trying hard to not go too fast or slow. Her hands began to wander all over my body restlessly, a clear sign that she was getting more excited, closer to the edge, and unsure of what to do with her hands and what to hold on to.

Suddenly, her hands shot out to each side and she clutched her bed sheets in a tight grip as she arched her back in ecstasy. Her stomach rippled and her neck muscles flexed involuntarily even as her pussy walls clamped down on my intruding member forcefully, a sensation that nearly caused me pain but felt so deliciously good, too. She let out a soft, keening wail as her orgasm overtook her senses and she tossed her head from side to side in an effort to process the onslaught of emotion, sensation and exultant adulation.

When she finally calmed down, I slowed my thrusts considerably and let her catch her breath. "That was..." she began to say and then fell silent as she searched for words. "Everything." When she noticed that I was still hard and moving, she got a concerned look on her face. "Didn't you cum, too?" she asked.

I shook my head and smiled down at her. "Ladies first," I said.

She smiled back at me appreciatively and luxuriated in the feeling of me moving back and forth inside her. "I want to try a different position," she told me after a moment. "I chose this one to begin, now it's your turn."

I paused my thrusts and looked down at her with a cocked eyebrow. "I'm getting close, honey," I told her. "Are you sure you want to change positions now?"

She considered it briefly and then nodded. "Yeah, I think I do. Is that okay?"

I kissed her again. "Anything that prolongs this feeling is fine with me," I said. I sat back on my heels again, pulling my cock out of her rippling pussy. My shaft was wet as could possibly be and streaked with girl cum. "Turn over," I said to her.

Her eyes sparkled with playful glee. "Oh, goodie! I was hoping we'd get to try this one!" Without another word, she turned herself over, presenting me with her perfect buttocks. When I curled the fingers of my left hand under her hip, she got the message and raised the lower half of her body up, drawing her knees up and lifting her backside into the air. "Like this?" she asked.

I stroked my shaft a couple of times while appreciating the view of her wanton display. "Just like that," I answered. "Perfect." I aimed my cockhead at her sodden entrance and pushed back into her tightness with slow deliberation. She was still incredibly tight, but I was able to slide in smoothly until, once again, our skin was flush with my thighs pressed against her soft, round ass. I leaned down over her back and breathed over her left earlobe. "How do you want it?" I asked her. "Hard and fast or gentle and slow?"

She ground her hips backwards against me seductively. "Whatever pleases you most and fastest, Daddy," she answered huskily. "Breed me."

With a wolfish grin, I raised back up and withdrew myself about halfway, taking a few precious seconds to appreciate the view of my cock slicked with her juices. "Hard and fast it is, then," I said breezily. "You might want to hold on to something."

She gripped the bed sheets tightly in her hands and I felt her shiver. Certain that my daughter was ready for my onslaught, I thrust into her forcefully once, withdrew slowly, drove home hard again, heard her sigh happily and then pumped into her at a fast, steady pace.

Her response was immediate. She began to twist and writhe beneath me as I hammered my turgid cock into her welcoming pussy, never even so much as pausing a single stroke. Helena moaned throatily at the sensations she felt and then she started saying, "Breed me, Daddy. Shoot your cum into me. Get me pregnant. Fuck me, own me, take me! Oh, fuck yes, keep fucking me forever!"

Despite the workout I was giving myself as I thrust rapidly inside her quivering pussy, her buttocks rippling with each impact of my hips, I let out a small chuckle. "I don't know about forever, sweetheart," I told her. "Like I said: I'm very close."

Her hair whipped around as she looked back at me, her eyes lit with a fire of lust and passion. "Do it!" she cried. "Fill me up, Daddy! I love you! I want to give you the child you deserve! Don't hold back and give me everything!"

I gritted my teeth as I tried valiantly to hold on to my self-control, but it was slipping fast as the seconds flew by. "You really want me to do it?" I asked her between breaths.

"Yes!" she hissed, her head now bowed down as her body rocked back and forth on my hardness. "You're going to breed me, Daddy!" Now that she'd gotten accustomed to my rhythm, she started to push back and meet my thrusts and her pussy clamped down tightly in preparation for yet another orgasm.

"You sound pretty sure of that," I said.

"I am," she agreed and then looked back at me again, "because today I'm ovulating! Just give me a drop, Daddy. Just a drop of your sperm and I'll conceive. I guarantee it. Cum inside me, please!"

Armed with that new bit of information, I found that I couldn't hold back any longer. With one more hard, deep thrust, I seated the head of my cock as deep inside of her as I could and felt my testicles clench mightily. A low growl developed in my throat as I tried to deny my orgasm just a few seconds more, even while my balls tightened and started to heave, making my cock pulse and throb with impending release. "Fuck!" I cried out. "Here it comes!"

My daughter pushed back just as forcefully as I pushed forward and I felt the spongy entrance to her womb gently kiss the tip of my penis just as I started to fill her with my load. My cock jerked and bucked within her tight channel as I fired several salvos of sperm into her, my balls churning with the effort and making it clear that they were far from finished. Over and over again, my cockhead spewed the contents of my balls directly into the entrance of her womb, right at her cervix, where both of us knew it would do the most good. That realization, knowing that I absolutely was impregnating my own daughter, caused my testes to heave and clench again, somehow pulling up reserves of even more sperm for her waiting, fertile body.

With each slug of cum, Helena cried out in ecstasy and adulation and I could feel her body spasm like it was being hit with electric shocks. While I freely admit that I am not especially well endowed, I do have the distinction of being able to cum lots. Some guys use tissues to clean up after themselves; I use bath towels. Within seconds I felt excess cum start to squeeze out around my shaft, a sure sign that Helena's pussy was overflowing with my seed. It felt wet and warm and slick and it was putting me into sensory overload. When my cock finally started to calm down, when the throbbing and jerking had subsided, I took a chance on taking in a deep breath and found that I was starved for oxygen. I held the fresh breath of air in my lungs for a few seconds and then let it out in a loud gust before slumping over her back in exhaustion.

Both of us stayed like that for several moments, breathing hard and trying to calm down, my cock still lodged within her tight folds. When she started cooing happily, I kissed just behind her ear and asked, "Think that did the trick?"

With some effort, she reached behind herself, hooked her hand behind my neck and pulled me down for an awkward but passionate kiss. When we came up for air, she laughed gaily and said, "Yeah. That should do it." Then she wiggled her hips. "But maybe we can try again in a few hours, just to make sure?"

I marshaled my strength and pushed myself up with my arms to survey the mess of our joined groins. And, yes, it was very messy down there. I could see the thick whiteness of my cum coated around my cock and leaking out of her while my shaft softened. With some reluctance, I pulled myself out completely and was greeted with the sight of her gaping pussy. The horizon of her entrance was filled with my seed and began to lazily drool out. Helena sensed this and immediately flipped over onto her back and thrust her hips up in the air while her shoulders remained flat on the bed.

She looked up at me with a satisfied smiled and explained, "Gotta make sure it soaks in."

I shook my head at her in awe. "Is it true?" I asked. "You're really ovulating?"

Her eyes bright with joy, she flashed me a happy grin. "Yep! Regular as clockwork, I am. And with as much sperm as you just put into me, Daddy, there's no way that I'm not pregnant right now."

"Jesus," I breathed as I realized the enormity of what we'd just done. "I can't believe we just did that."

Helena let out a soft laugh in her throat and then said, "Best. Birthday. Ever!"

I laid back on her bed, my head at her feet, and continued to try and recoup from what we'd just done. My mind was whirling at the enormity of it all. I had not only just had sex with my daughter, I'd actively tried (and probably succeeded) to impregnate her. Aside from a veritable cornucopia of emotional states which shifted with the passing of each second, I was now also consumed with the practical aspects of what we'd done. As night follows day, consequences follow actions. Eventually she'd start to show, her belly would get round and questions would be asked. Her life and mine would have to necessarily adjust to account for the new state of things- and some of those adjustments might spell trouble for us. I'm the CEO and founder of a major bio-technological corporation, for crying out loud! How the hell would I swing my job with... this?

"You're awfully quiet," she noted after a few silent moments.

"I'm thinking," I said quietly, trying my best to not let the rising panic and anxiety show in my voice.

It was like she'd read my mind. "About what happens next?" she asked. "Believe it or not, I've already given that some thought."

I sighed deeply with a mixture of relief and trepidation. "I'm glad one of us has," I said heavily.

"Want to hear my plan?"

I gamely shrugged, unsure if she could see it. "Sure," I replied. "Why not? It's got to be better than what I've come up with, which is zilch."

She scooted around so that now we were lying next to each other, side-by-side on the bed. When she was comfortable, her hands and fingers interlaced across her bosom, she started. "Ultimately," she said, "we have to get married."

I whistled at the idea. "That's a tall order, sweetheart," I told her. "As far as the world knows, you're my daughter. Legal problems abound."

"No," she corrected gently, "as far as the world knows, I'm your ward." I stiffened in response to that, scrunched up my eyebrows and asked her to explain. "Well, let's roll back the tape, shall we? According to the official record, who was my mother?"

"A... strange woman who'd been in a car accident and just so happened to be pregnant with you," I answered. "At the time, I was wanting to hear the pitter-patter of little feet, but I wasn't married or involved with anyone at the time. Adopting you was a matter of convenience. Officially."

"Right," she agreed. "So, officially, you and I aren't related. You raised me, but there's no blood relation. So that's one hurdle we can put aside."

I shook my head, but gave it some thought. "Okay," I relented. "Technically, that might work. But the world will still have some misgivings about an adoptive father and daughter getting hitched. Legally, we might swing it, but there's still some prudes out there in the world."

She dismissed it. "Their problem, not ours," she said. "Maybe we'll have to petition a court to dissolve the adoption, which makes me a free agent as an adult, and then we can get legally hitched a short time later. Details. The end result is that, in the eyes of the law, while unconventional, us getting married isn't impossible or even really that difficult."

"Very well," I conceded the point. "What else?"

"Well, duh," she said. "The baby. I expect that I'll start showing sometime towards the end of my first trimester. So call it three, maybe four months. That's how long we have to get the legal issues taken care of. But before we do that we have to change some history. I have to stop being me."

I half-turned to face her and raised myself up on my elbow to give her my undivided attention. "Change history?" I asked. "And how do you propose to stop being you? Who are you, then, if not Helena Salinger?"

"Helena Bishop," she said simply. "The story goes that you named me after her."

I gave a long, low whistle. "Sneaky," said with appreciation. "And simple. Okay. Go on."

"Genetically speaking," she said, "she and I are identical. As far as medical science is concerned, we're the same person. We have to change that. All of her family members are dead, so no one will be around to contest the claim that I'm her daughter, but some busybody might want to run a DNA test. All we need to do is alter her recorded DNA profile so that it would look like a mother's rather than a clone's original, which means we need to hire a reliable and discreet hacker who can make the necessary changes. If we do it right, I should be able to just suddenly appear as Helena Bishop's long-lost daughter. It makes the adoption story a bit stronger because, let's face it Dad, it's kind of weak right now."

I mused on the idea for a moment and then nodded. "I think we can swing that. So, what then? You show up to the world to legitimize your parentage..."

"...and that's where the changing in history has to happen in earnest," Helena said. "There can't be any ties between you and her, historically. You guys went to the same college, but never met, never worked together, never fell in love... is there anyone who knew the two of you back then, anyone who might blow the whistle?"

I thought about it for a moment. There were undoubtedly some people who knew us- volunteers who helped us crunch numbers at the beginning of our work, for instance, but that was over twenty years ago and it was doubtful that anyone would recall such details. When it came to investors, I was the one almost everybody dealt with, mostly because Helena didn't have a taste for salesmanship. She hated dealing with the money side of things and left it all to me. I'd have to go back over my records to ensure that her name didn't come up on anything official, though. Off the top of my head, I couldn't recall anything significant.

"That might be a tiny bit dicey," I said. "We can change records, but not peoples' memories. There's a small chance that someone might remember us being together as partners in college. That said, we weren't exactly social creatures. Most of our time was spent working on our project rather than socializing. It's not a huge risk, but one that we'll have to accept."

Her lips twitched towards a frown, but never quite got there. "Okay. Fine. I don't like it, but I guess we can't have everything we want."

I chewed the idea around in my head for a moment and then summed up. "Okay, so... we need to hire a hacker who can alter her genetic record and maintain the fiction that I adopted you. It'll be expensive, but relatively simple."

"Then," she said breezily, "after all is said and done, we should be able to get married without anyone fussing at us about it."

I stared at her in silence for a few moments and then asked, "How'd you get so smart?"

She curled her lips up into a small smile. "You made me that way, didn't you?"

I felt my eyebrow arch up in surprise. "I suppose I did," I replied.

We had dinner a short time later, neither of us bothering to get dressed. It had been so long since I'd had license to go around my own stomping grounds naked that it took some time for me to adjust to the "newfound" freedom to do so, but Helena seemed to take to it as naturally and unself-consciously as everything else she did in life. Dinner was really nothing more than scraps of leftovers that had been jumbled together into something resembling a healthy meal. The whole time we ate, Helena chattered about the excitement of becoming a mother.

"Now," she said with a mouthful of pizza, "you can legitimately claim the role of father. Doesn't that make you happy in the slightest bit?" She watched me with concerned eyes.

I'd been relatively quiet during her energetic babbling, trying to sort out both my emotions and plans. Most of my responses had been soft grunts and mumbled replies, but now she was actively dragging me into the conversation. I took a deep breath and nodded. "On the face of it, sweetheart, yes," I replied. "Don't mistake my silence for sullenness. I'm just... ruminating. A lot's been going on and this is... well, it's one more thing for me to compartmentalize. I'm trying to soak it all in." I reached out to lovingly and gently touch her hand on the table. "I am happy about all of this, Helena. I just need some time to process."

Her glittering eyes stared back at me and she nodded understandingly. "I get it," she said. "You've got a lot on your plate already. Yesterday the world was shaped differently between us and, now, it's a completely different place. And while I've had time to plan and adjust, this is all still new to you."

I agreed with a nod. "That's an accurate description of the situation, yes," I said. "I promise I'll come around soon enough, though."

She smiled warmly at me. "Don't push it, Dad. Take all the time you need. For now, we've got the ball the rolling and we have a solid plan. Believe it or not, the hard part is over." Her eyes still twinkled happily.

I smirked at that. "If making love with you was the hard part, I should only hope and pray that the solution to all of my problems could be so pleasant."

She giggled like the little girl that she definitely no longer was. "You've still got time to bed Alice if you'd like," she said playfully. "I mean, you're still a free agent until we get hitched."

I levelled a stern gaze at her. "That's a big no, sweetheart. There's not a snowball's chance in hell of me sleeping with Alice. We don't have that kind of relationship. Never had, never will."

She sighed wistfully. "More's the pity," she said. "Personally, I don't think she'd complain."

"She might not," I rejoined, "but I would. She's my secretary, honey. I didn't hire her based on her looks or charm. She's damned good at what she does and I simply don't think of her in anything but professional terms. Approaching her like that would feel too awkward for me."

Helena shrugged indifferently and dropped the subject, mostly. "Well, speaking of her... have you heard anything new about The Crisis?"

I shook my head. "Nothing," I said evenly. That fact had actually been on my mind lately. Part of me supposed that no news was good news, but part of me wanted to get an update. As the Boss, I would be well within my rights to call her and demand a report, but doing so would undermine the trust I've had in her for years. "But," I added, "the day's not quite over yet. Us corporate types tend to live and breathe our jobs. I'm hoping she'll call soon." I decided to change the subject. "Moving on. With your plan, such as it is, have you given any thought as to what you're going to do about your social life? I mean, you've got friends. When you turn up pregnant and make noises about marrying your dad, how do you think they'll react?"

Helena seemed to dismiss the concern entirely. "To be honest, Dad, none of them are really what I'd call close friends. We hang out and party and do girl things, but when it comes right down to it, they're all a bit too prosaic for my tastes. Their world is all about boys and dresses and toys. Since I found out about my mother, I've found that I'm growing well beyond all of that stuff. It's childish, they're children, and I can let all of that stuff go without a second thought."