Oh, poor, naive little Salome. If only she knew the kind of man her father really was, she wouldn't make the mistake of thinking it would be a well-balanced relationship. Or that it would be sweet. As it stands, this is as sweet, genuinely sweet, as she could hope for, and it's thanks to shared DNA--this is the transmutation of pre-existing, genuine-if-possessive paternal affection into something surpassing itself, something hungrier, more brutal.
Every time she drops upon him he groans again, until his hands find her hips and help guide her up, down, up, down, nice, smooth, easy motions. His breath is already haggard, his body singing as she kisses his throat and speaks into his ear. Oh, she loves him, she says, but she doesn't, or shouldn't, not like she does, not in the way that drives her to say she'd only give herself over to him--though he appreciates hearing that. Poor, silly little girl, poor thing, he's going to crush her because it's all he can do, she can't be lead on to think that this is some boyfriend-girlfriend happy tra-la-la fairy tale.
No. This is father and daughter; their dynamic hasn't changed, and he's going to have to make it clear to her when all this is over that they've simply added a new layer to their relationship; and that he loves her deeply, consumingly, perhaps even more than he did before, but she can't expect him to make her into his one-and-only.
But he does love her. Love her, love her; he wants to sink his teeth in her, can already see how he'll guide her just a little bit at a time into understanding that a bit of pain now and then can be lovely, too--he'll teach her everything he can and let the bonds of love deepen between them, because as wrong as this feels, it also feels natural, blissful. He couldn't have turned her down--to do it would make himself a hypocrite, and deny himself what has been proven to be a moment of incredible glory, and intimacy, with the beautiful creature he sees in a new, stranger light. Now she's not just his, but she's his, and that possession may not be allowed to go both ways but it is passionate nonetheless.
"I love you, too, Salome." He grins to himself, nuzzling into her hair, moaning sharply at the intoxicating sensation of her cunt so tight around him. "My good girl. Daddy's proud of you. Oh, God--" He breathes sharply and pushes hard kisses against the curve of her shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut. "Oh, this is good, so good, and what sweeter, purer way than for you and I to play together than this." Hands finding her head, he draws her back slightly to press a kiss to her mouth, his hips rocking forward and back while she gets used to moving up and down.
"Let the rest of the world think it's wrong. You and I know how lovely it is, and how special it is. Their scorn only makes it that much more wonderful, doesn't it?" He grins, nose brushing over hers, his eyes glazed and face flush with desire. "It's okay for you to be attracted to your daddy. You're my delightfully wicked, clever little girl, and I will never," his hips rock back, his cock sliding within her tense depths, "never judge you just because you get so excited for me. I'm glad that you do."
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Every time she drops upon him he groans again, until his hands find her hips and help guide her up, down, up, down, nice, smooth, easy motions. His breath is already haggard, his body singing as she kisses his throat and speaks into his ear. Oh, she loves him, she says, but she doesn't, or shouldn't, not like she does, not in the way that drives her to say she'd only give herself over to him--though he appreciates hearing that. Poor, silly little girl, poor thing, he's going to crush her because it's all he can do, she can't be lead on to think that this is some boyfriend-girlfriend happy tra-la-la fairy tale.
No. This is father and daughter; their dynamic hasn't changed, and he's going to have to make it clear to her when all this is over that they've simply added a new layer to their relationship; and that he loves her deeply, consumingly, perhaps even more than he did before, but she can't expect him to make her into his one-and-only.
But he does love her. Love her, love her; he wants to sink his teeth in her, can already see how he'll guide her just a little bit at a time into understanding that a bit of pain now and then can be lovely, too--he'll teach her everything he can and let the bonds of love deepen between them, because as wrong as this feels, it also feels natural, blissful. He couldn't have turned her down--to do it would make himself a hypocrite, and deny himself what has been proven to be a moment of incredible glory, and intimacy, with the beautiful creature he sees in a new, stranger light. Now she's not just his, but she's his, and that possession may not be allowed to go both ways but it is passionate nonetheless.
"I love you, too, Salome." He grins to himself, nuzzling into her hair, moaning sharply at the intoxicating sensation of her cunt so tight around him. "My good girl. Daddy's proud of you. Oh, God--" He breathes sharply and pushes hard kisses against the curve of her shoulder, his eyes squeezing shut. "Oh, this is good, so good, and what sweeter, purer way than for you and I to play together than this." Hands finding her head, he draws her back slightly to press a kiss to her mouth, his hips rocking forward and back while she gets used to moving up and down.
"Let the rest of the world think it's wrong. You and I know how lovely it is, and how special it is. Their scorn only makes it that much more wonderful, doesn't it?" He grins, nose brushing over hers, his eyes glazed and face flush with desire. "It's okay for you to be attracted to your daddy. You're my delightfully wicked, clever little girl, and I will never," his hips rock back, his cock sliding within her tense depths, "never judge you just because you get so excited for me. I'm glad that you do."