I Accept Ch. 04

tagIncest/TabooI Accept Ch. 04

Becky was awakened the following Monday by the chirp of a text notification. She started awake and rolled over, fumbling for her phone. She unlocked it and squinted at the message in the early morning light.
[Rebecca,
I have a new assignment for you. A special request this morning. We would like it if you came downstairs naked for breakfast this morning and had sex with your father.
As an added twist, your father would like your permission to use you a little roughly.
Do you accept?]
Becky lifted an eyebrow. She was intrigued by the wonderfully taboo thought of fucking her dad at the breakfast table. She'd certainly be starting his day off right. Maybe he'd be in a better mood for work. But she wasn't entirely sure what this last part meant.
She thumbed in her reply, unconsciously mimicking her mother's formal way of communicating.
[Use me roughly? Can you please clarify?]
The reply came back a minute later.
[Your father would like to objectify you to some degree, as he has put it, to "use you as a fuck toy and throw you away." He assures me he is not interested in severe degradation.]
"Throw me away," Becky said to herself in the solitude of her room. To her mild surprise, she found she liked the way the words sounded coming out of her mouth. She'd had a boyfriend with a similar sort of fetish, but he'd soon proven to want to use her in other ways as well, and lacked the emotional intelligence to do any of it well. Her father, she imagined, would almost certainly be different.
Yes, she could definitely get into this. Becky grinned lopsidedly and thumbed in her reply.
[I accept]
Closing the text app, she checked the clock. Breakfast was only a few minutes away. She'd have to hurry if she wanted to be presentable.
* * *
She wriggled out of her underwear and sleep shirt and hopped to the bathroom to relieve herself and wash up. There was no time for a shower – besides, Becky reflected, she'd just have to clean up afterward again anyway.
There was, however, time to brush her teeth and tie her bright red hair into a loose ponytail. She tossed her head back and forth in the bathroom mirror, appreciating the tousled look she'd achieved. She briefly considered putting on some heels to make her legs look a little sexier – but her mother had said naked, and so naked it would be.
She took a deep breath, surprised at how trembly with nerves she felt. On one hand, this was not the first time… but it kind of felt like it. She both dreaded and loved that feeling. Part of her hoped it would never end.
"Let's do this," she said to her reflection, and headed downstairs.
* * *
Becky's heart was pounding in her chest by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs. Despite the amount of time she'd recently spent running around the house scantily clad, she found something in her rebelling at the idea of being naked and exposed like this. It was scary, but also thrilling. Especially considering what would happen next.
He was waiting there when she arrived, seated at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and reading the news on his tablet. He had on the blue bathrobe he often liked to wear in the morning, before he showered and changed into his work clothes. That was good, she thought. It would make this a lot easier.
Thanks to the angle between the kitchen and the base of the stairs, she was able to sidle up to him, barefoot, without him hearing. She put a hand on his shoulder and leaned down to kiss him, pressing her body against him in the process. "Good morning, Father."
He jumped a little and turned to face her. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of his daughter's nude body. Even though he'd certainly been expecting it, it obviously pleased him, which pleased her in turn.
"Ah, there you are, Rebecca."
"How-" He cut her off by taking hold of her by the hair and pulling her down to kiss him on the lips, while setting the tablet down with his other hand. She murmured her approval as he then put both hands on her bare waist, pulling her close as the kiss deepened.
"Oh," she said softly in answer as his lips moved to her ear, down her neck, and then to her chest as his hands slid down to cup her ass. Becky giggled helplessly. The feel of his hands on her skin made her giddy. If this was being used, she would gladly take it every day of her life.
Her laugh turned to a gasp of pleasure as his mouth found her nipple and closed around it, sucking gently. She'd always loved having her nipples played with, and he hadn't really paid much attention to them. Not until now. It felt amazing, and she gave a happy moan to let him know. His other hand slid up her belly to squeeze her breast, as well as he could given how relatively little she had in that department.
"Dad…"
"Shh," he admonished.
"Sorry."
The sensation of his mouth on her body lit her up with desire, and she felt a driving urgency pulse through her. As he kissed and sucked, she slid her hand into the folds of his bathrobe, down his chest and stomach, to find his cock. He was, unsurprisingly, rock-hard. She gave him a squeeze, feeling a fresh thrill at his remarkable girth. She never seemed to get tired of it.
Your dad has a big cock, she thought to herself. Aren't you lucky? She let out another helpless giggle.
"What's so funny?" he inquired, pulling away to look up at her.
"Never mind," she said fondly, kissing him again. She let go of him long enough to tug his bathrobe open, then threw one leg over his lap to straddle him, facing away from him toward the table. Her mother had told her he liked the woman on top and also fucking from behind – so why not a bit of both?
She knew she should probably wait for further direction, but she didn't want to delay any longer.
Bracing herself, she reached down between her thighs to find his cock and guide it into her. She'd been wet since the moment she'd hit the bottom of the stairs, and the tip of his cock slipped in easily.
Then, as she lowered herself onto him, she was reminded how big he really was. The sensation was intense, overpowering, like she was being split in half. She braced one hand against the kitchen table, gasping. An agonized groan escaped her – she hoped he wouldn't interpret it as pain.
"Oh, Dad… fuck!"
Unlike last time, her father didn't react with startled concern. Instead, he took both her arms and drew them behind her back as he began to thrust slowly inside her.
"Rebecca," he said, his tone playfully serious. "How many times have I told you to watch your language?"
"I'm-" Becky's breath shuddered as her heart raced. "I'm sorry, Dad."
"I'm not sure you are," he said, and bucked his hips, penetrating deeper inside her. She yelped with pleasure.
"I really am sorry, I promise, Dad, I pr-" Becky's words disintegrated into a strangled moan as he began to thrust with firm, deep rhythm, holding her arms together at the small of her back. The restraint was slightly uncomfortable, but not unpleasantly so, and she found herself responding with a new, incendiary arousal. This was like the punishment game they'd played in the kitchen, but better. More intense. She loved it.
For awhile, there was nothing but the heavy sound of their breathing, the slap of flesh against flesh, and Becky's steadily rising moans. She tried, at first, to be quiet, but her father's cock felt incredible inside her, and the more it went on, the more license she gave herself to be loud. Soon, she was moaning with every thrust; the rough, guttural sound of mingled pleasure and pain.
"Good morning, all."
Her mother's voice cut through the ecstatic delirium of being fucked by her father. She opened her eyes, unaware she'd closed them in the first place. Her mother, dressed in her bathrobe and slippers, swanned into the kitchen as if nothing were out of place, making for the coffee machine.
"Mom?" she exclaimed, her heart leaping in her chest. There had been nothing in the assignment about this. That feeling of being exposed and vulnerable was suddenly much more raw.
"Don't mind me, darling," her mother said amiably, fetching a coffee cup from the cupboard. "I won't be but a minute. How is your morning, Vernon?"
"Fine, dear," her father said, still thrusting inside her. "Just having a little quality time with my daughter."
"Oh god…" Becky let out a hoarse gasp of disbelief. Granted, this wasn't the first time she'd pleasured her father with her mother in the room – but this was different. She was in full daylight, naked, legs spread, arms pinned behind her back, her father's cock deep inside her.
"Quiet, honey," her father said softly but sternly, and something clicked home inside Becky's head. This was all part of the objectification game, not just between her and her dad, but her parents. She wished she'd been let in on it from the start, but she could barely think about it with her father's cock pounding inside her.
Besides, the surprise had her heart pounding in her chest. In a good way.
In the span of a moment, Becky weighed the situation and decided to have fun with it. She dutifully closed her mouth and let her dad fuck her while her parents talked.
"Well, just make certain you aren't late for work," her mother said as she spooned sugar into her coffee.
"I won't," her dad answered, moving his right hand from Becky's arm to grasp her ponytail and squeeze. Becky groaned involuntarily before biting her lip to silence herself.
"Good." Her mother took her coffee and left the kitchen, taking a moment to touch Becky's cheek and then her bare shoulder as she passed by. "You two have fun."
"Thanks, M-" Becky tried to answer, but her father thrust particularly deep while pulling on her ponytail simultaneously, and her sentence was lost in a garbled sputter of pleasure.
Then they were alone again. Her father's hand slid around the back of her neck, to hold her firmly while the other hand still pinned one arm behind Becky's back. The restraint, coupled with the deep penetration her father was achieving from this position, quickly ramped up her arousal to newfound levels. Within a minute, she was shivering and gasping again, letting out a loud cry with the end of every stroke.
"That's my good girl," her father said, squeezing the back of her neck as he spoke. That completed the trifecta. Becky felt an orgasm on the horizon of her consciousness, approaching fast.
"Yes," she whispered, in part to him, in part to her encroaching climax.
She felt his hands slide down the bare flesh of her back to grasp her ass. "My little slut."
Then he was driving into her, hard and fast, his breath coming quickly. A moment later, he took a pause to push her to a standing position. His cock slipped out of her for a moment, drawing a whimper of disappointment from her, before he positioned himself behind her and entered her again. Her forlorn exclamation became another gasp of surprise and pleasure as he took up where he'd left off: both hands gripping her ass, cock slamming into her forcefully.
"Oh jesus f-" Becky checked her language as she braced both hands against the kitchen table, her head down. The pleasure was so intense she felt like her knees might buckle. She became aware her whole body was shaking, shuddering sighs of pleasure pouring from her mouth. She felt her orgasm coming close now, its oncoming intensity almost frightening, as if the force of it might destroy her.
She welcomed it.
"Dad," she whimpered. "Daddy… Daddy please g-"
For answer, he put a hand on her neck again and exerted pressure, pressing her face against the cool wood of the tabletop. The rough treatment put her over the edge. She came in waves, trembling, dimly aware she was making a series of strained wails, no doubt loud enough to be heard throughout the house. Her arms stretched out, hands clawing for purchase on the tabletop.
She heard her father groan, felt him slam into her with a punctuating impact, drawing a startled yelp from her, and felt him gush inside her. She could actually feel his cock pulsing inside her, thick and insistent, as if it had grown in size. A moment later, he pulled out, and she felt a series of hot, sticky splashes from the small of her back to between her shoulder blades.
He sighed with carnal satisfaction – and then pushed her away roughly, her stomach and chest fetching up against the table. Becky felt a sudden sting as he slapped her on the ass, and she hissed in surprise.
Bent over, face down, gasping for breath, she heard the whisper of her father closing his robe, then the soft pad of retreating footsteps. A moment later, the sound of her parents' bedroom door closing.
That, it seemed, concluded her assignment.
Her father had come inside her and just left her, sticky and dripping, like a whore.
She loved it.
Becky grinned and straightened, not without a little effort. Her whole body felt effervescent, charged with energy. As she rose, she felt her father's come begin trickling down her back. The sensation coaxed another soft giggle from her.
"Holy shit," she whispered, and made for the stairs to get into the shower before she left a mess on the floor.
* * *
Becky didn't bother getting dressed again after her shower. She returned upstairs to her room, flopped down on the bed, and played on her phone while she thought about what had happened.
She couldn't stop smiling.
Not only had the sex been physically amazing, but the taboo of it had risen to new heights for her. Having her mother in the room briefly – having her father scold her and leave her without a word when he was finished – it turned her on immensely.
Becky wanted more.
She wanted her father to ambush her while she sat at her work desk and take what he wanted. She wanted him to fuck her wherever he felt like – in the kitchen, on the living room floor, at his place of work. Becky's fantasies spun out until she was imagining fucking her father in the middle of a crowded restaurant, in full view of everyone, scandalizing the room. It was an exhibitionist fantasy far beyond what real life would allow, but it made her ache.
Feeling aroused and effervescent, she stretched out nude on her bed and took a few revealing selfies of herself. Maybe she'd send them to her dad later. Permission or not.
That reminded Becky of the one slight wrinkle in the morning's festivities. She opened up her messages and texted her mother.
[can we talk?]
The reply came back only moments later.
[Certainly. Come down to the kitchen.]
Becky put on a pair of shorts and a crop top and headed downstairs. She returned to the kitchen to find her mother sitting in the usual spot, tea in hand. She glanced at her father's empty chair and shivered a little with remembrance of the morning's encounter.
"Hi, Mom." She sat, feeling a little nervous.
"What's on your mind, Rebecca?"
Becky took a deep breath and took the plunge.
"First of all, I wanted to say I had a lot of fun this morning. Like, a lot. I loved the whole thing. So I just wanted you to know that."
Her mother sipped tea. "I'm glad to hear that."
"But," Becky said. "I kind of wish you'd told me you'd be… involved? It wasn't that it was bad, just… unexpected. It wasn't part of the assignment, and I didn't agree to it."
For a moment, Becky was afraid her mother would be angry – maybe even end the arrangement. It was a terrible thought, but Becky knew she had to have some clear boundaries if this was going to continue to work.
Instead, Marilyn pondered for a moment, then nodded.
"You're right, of course. I'm sorry, Rebecca. That was a spontaneous decision on my part, and I should have consulted you first. Your father and I have been talking about my becoming more… involved in your activities, and I thought I'd give him a little surprise. But I was wrong not to get your consent."
Becky gave a sigh of relief. "It's okay. But just – from now on, okay?"
Her mother nodded. "From now on, I promise."
There was a long pause while they both absorbed this moment. Then Becky spoke again.
"So if you don't mind telling me – in what ways were you two talking about you, um… getting involved?"
Marilyn smiled slightly. "Vernon was sharing some fantasies with me one evening after a few glasses of wine. Many of them were exhibitionist in nature – things that wouldn't be practical in the real world. Sex in a public venue. That sort of thing."
"Uh-huh," Becky said, her mind already racing with impossible scenarios. Public like how? The park? The back yard? In line at the bank? She suppressed a giggle.
"Then he shared that he'd had some fantasies that involved myself in a peripheral fashion," Marilyn continued. "He really enjoyed that first night together when I sat nearby while you performed fellatio on him. He suggested other things, such as…"
Marilyn stopped and stared into her tea cup.Becky raised her eyebrows in the ensuing silence. "Such as…?"
"I'm sorry, Rebecca, it's slightly embarrassing."
Becky was taken aback. Her mother, embarrassed? Was such a thing possible? "It's okay. You can tell me. Please?"
Her mother cleared her throat. "Well. Things such as my watching, or removing your clothing for him, or holding you while he took you. Either tenderly – in a motherly fashion, I suppose – or…"
"Or…?"
Marilyn let out a deep breath. "Or holding you down, in the context of punishment, or discipline, I suppose."
The images that came to mind made Becky's heart quicken. Her mother pinning her arms behind her back while she sucked her father's cock. Maybe her mother even forcing her head down, chiding her for some misdeed, real or imagined. The thought aroused her intensely, even as some internal part of her squirmed at the taboo, the forbidden nature of it.
"Really," she said, the syllables drawing out as she tried to dispel the vivid sexual images now playing in her head. She returned to the present to find her mother staring at her steadily.
"Is that something you'd enjoy, Rebecca? From your demeanor, I imagine it is."
Becky nodded. "Kinda… yeah. I mean, okay. A lot." She paused, taking in a deep breath. "What about you?"
Marilyn took a long moment before answering. "I must admit, these encounters, and their invigorating effect on your father's libido, have been very stimulating for both of us. I must admit the idea has some appeal. The question is whether we're both comfortable with the idea of intimate contact between us."
Intimate contact. Becky hoped her mother never changed.
"I'm okay with it if you are," she said. She found herself blushing hotly, a thrill running through her body at the confession. "I wouldn't mind at all. We might even like it."
"Yes," Marilyn said pensively. "I suppose we might. I'll mention it to your father."
"Great." Becky smiled and left the table, already thinking of forbidden incestuous scenarios in her head. It was so titillating it was almost frustrating. When was she going to get her chance to play out her own ideas?
* * *
Later that afternoon, a package arrived at the front door. Becky's mother brought it upstairs with a knowing smile and left without a word. Becky placed the box on the bed and sat cross-legged to open it.
She knew what it was: the clothes her mother had told her to buy.
Becky grinned as she sorted through the considerable pile of clothes, thinking about how wonderful and strange her life had become. The things she'd purchased were undeniably sexual – skimpy, revealing, sheer; the sort of thing a girl might buy to please her boyfriend on his birthday. Only Becky had bought them to please her father.
Most fathers would chide their daughters for wearing the sort of things that were in this box. But Becky's dad was just as likely to tear them off her in his lust. And that suited her just fine.

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