All Sexual Activity Is Between Characters Who Are 18+ Years Old


Mary McGuinness Trotter kissed Eli Farragut as he slept, then whispered, “Happy Birthday, mon cheri… mon cher vieil homme.” Rolling nude from his massive canopied bed, she retrieved her new nylons and Chantilly lace garter belt, which hung haphazardly from the shade of a nearby table lamp. She smiled, remembering how Eli had insisted on stripping them from her, using only his mouth.

Mary had thought it great fun at the time, but now she frowned as she picked them up. She sighed and surveyed the runs where his eager teeth had snagged them. Pulling on the sheer suspenders, but leaving the garters uselessly hanging, she tossed the destroyed hose lightly onto Farragut’s pillow. “They were meant as a present for you, anyway, mon vieux,” she said to the slumbering old gentleman. “I’m glad you enjoyed playing with them.”

Picking up and stepping into her discarded black linen maid’s uniform dress, she zipped and buttoned herself. Mary carried her sheer black bustier and starched white muslin ruffled apron with her downstairs. In the library she grabbed her cloche cap from where it had fallen earlier on the heavy velvet couch. An extended search, however, failed to locate her French sateen panties, which Eli had purloined and wadded into his silk robe’s pocket.

Feeling deeply satisfied, if a little bit ragged, after an unusually strenuous morning, Mary left the septuagenarian’s Victorian house via the kitchen door as the hall clock began chiming noon. She had crossed the yard to the Trotter cottage by the time the Sandiford struck its twelfth baritone bong. From her porch, she started down the hall to the bathroom, looking forward to a much needed and refreshing shower.

Mary’s plan was interrupted by the telephone ringing in the parlor. She briefly considered ignoring it, but then thought, “What if it’s a school about Ted, or Arthur?” Worried to hear negative news about her husband or nine-year-old son, she answered, guardedly, “Uptown fourteen-oh-six. Hello?”

“Hi, Mare, it’s Papa,” Jock McGuinness greeted her, as if his own daughter might not recognize his voice. “I’ve called you, off-and-on, all morning,” he complained. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, Papa,” Mary answered lightly. Nothing in her tone revealed she was standing, half-dressed, with Eli’s cum drying on her thighs. “Don’t be a SCOLD… you KNOW I do things for Old Mr. Farragut every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning… why didn’t you try me THERE?”

Jock slapped his forehead. “I forgot. Well, anyway, I’m in a pickle. Can you HELP me? Arlene Hart, my accounting clerk, called off sick today and payroll reports need to be completed for the home office… I know you know the system… Will you come and do them?”

Mary pouted into the receiver and thought, “There goes MY afternoon!” Aloud, she assured Jock, “I only just this minute walked in the house, BUT, I can be at the warehouse by one, or one-thirty at the latest. Will THAT be OK?”

“Thanks, Mare,” Jock replied gratefully. “See you THEN, then.”

Mary cradled the phone and hurried to tuck her lingerie away and hang her uniform and apron in her wardrobe. Scurrying naked to the bathroom, she hustled through a Spartan sponge bath of her critical parts, then rushed back to the master bedroom. Pulling on a pair of tap pants and a light bra, she pushed her head through the square neck of a dirndl-styled summer frock and smoothed it over her voluptuous curves.

After slipping her bare feet into a pair of low-heeled shoes, Mary grabbed her purse then strode from the house. Passing through the fence gate to the alley between Holmes and Garvey Streets, she heard a familiar clanging bell. As she reached Central Avenue, fifty feet away, she saw a stopped streetcar with a ‘LOWRY/INDUSTRIAL’ marker and jumped onto its stair just as it was pulling away.

The conductor, facing front, seemed not to notice the beautiful young blonde woman who slid swiftly onto the back bench. At least, he never asked Mary for her fare and she was too busy applying new lipstick and rouge to volunteer payment. Twenty minutes later, she debarked in the Industrial District and headed for Acme Distributors’ warehouse.

At 500 Water Avenue, Mary walked up the outside wooden staircase to the Acme general manager’s office. Beneath her, a burly stevedore, on his smoke break, looked up at the sound of her heels on the steps. Grinning as he watched the boss’s daughter’s skirt swirl around her bare legs, he idly scratched his balls in his overalls and fantasized about what was under her briefly, but clearly, displayed underwear. When he heard the office door open and close, he took a final drag, flipped away his butt and walked back to the river dock.

Although it had been five years since Jock was promoted from foreman to manager, he had not lost his sense of camaraderie with the warehousemen. He wore his necktie loose, hung his suit jacket pendik escort up as soon as he could and kept his long white shirtsleeves tightly rolled around his bulging biceps. Even at fifty years old, none of his beefy two hundred twenty pounds had gone soft and he frequently bucked crates with the boys to show them he still could. The laborers liked him and the front-office did, too.

He looked up and grinned when his eldest daughter walked through his office door. Glancing at the wall clock, he observed, “Twelve-fifty… Thanks again, Mare.”

Stepping around his desk, Mary kissed Jock warmly. Feeling his tongue tip test her lips, she pulled back. “Now, PAPA,” she chided gently, “was this just and EXCUSE for a MATINEE? Or, is there real WORK for me to do?” Her hazel eyes sparkled as she leaned back in and kissed him harder. This time she opened her mouth and welcomed his probe with a tugging suck.

Jock’s heart raced and his cock swelled, just as they did every time he was alone and close to Mary. He broke the kiss and stammered, “N-no joke, Mare… but you KNOW what you DO to me.” He sighed and looked down at his belt.

It had been ten years since he first fucked his eighteen-year-old daughter in her garret bedroom, which was now given over to Cecilia, Isabel’s surprising change-of-life gift to him the following year. But it had also been ten very long days since he last fucked her, in her marital bed, while her unaware husband and son played cribbage and listened to the radio two rooms away in the cottage parlor. He was both shamed by, and prisoner to, his incestuous lust. His horny nuts hurt.

Mary stroked his cheek, already rough with eight hours’ whisker growth. “Yes, Papa,” she purred. “I know. And, I know what YOU do… to ME, too.” She patted his face lightly. “Show me the books and leave me be. If we’re LUCKY, I’ll finish them fast and we can ‘DO it’ to each other.”

Jock twisted his face, kissed his daughter’s hand and pointed past her to the smaller companion desk on his left. “I put the books on Arlene’s blotter. Any files you need are right there beside her desk. Just pull the dustcover off her Royal and bang away!” He laughed and stood up. Moving his hands to her shoulder points, he kissed Mary and spun her to face Arlene’s work area. With a soft swat on her rear, Jock said, “I’m going down to the warehouse and give the men their wages.” He turned, picked up a stack of envelopes from his desk and left the room.

When the door closed behind him, Mary sat down and uncovered the typewriting machine. She had worked part-time for Acme before their business recovered enough from the effects of The Crash to warrant a full-time clerk. Arlene, a widowed mother, had been hired because she needed the income, whereas Ted Trotter had a good job. Mary was just as glad, because Eli decided he wanted her three days a week instead of just Saturday mornings. All in all, everyone came out ahead.

After handing the crew their pay envelopes, Jock hung around the warehouse jawboning for as long as he could stand it. His balls were boiling. He could not believe how hot his sweet Mary was. Whether it was the long lay-off since a week ago Wednesday, or her thin spun rayon frock, all he knew for sure was that her ass felt good to his palm when he patted her goodbye. Now, as he climbed the stair to his office, his cock was so hard he was practically limping.

Turning the knob slowly, he eased the door open on its silent hinges and closed it just as quietly. Mary was engrossed at the typewriter, clacking away and paying no attention. Jock twisted the deadbolt and drew the window shade for privacy. He knew, from experience, where the noisy floorboards were and he avoided them as he approached his daughter’s back. When he was five feet away, but before he could surprise her, Mary, still typing, laughed and said, “Nice timing, Papa! I just finished the reports.”

As she pulled the paper from the roller, Jock noticed, to the right of the typewriter, Mary’s open compact with its mirror angled to the office door. “So, she saw me the whole time,” Jock said to himself. “Clever girl.” Continuing forward, he put his hands on the tops of her shoulders and kissed her head. He stared hungrily down her pooched out neckline as he squeezed his fingers slowly and deeply into her muscles. Mary rolled her head and shivered.

“That’s very good, Mare,” Jock said, with more breath control than he thought he could muster in his excitement. “The dispatch courier doesn’t get here until four, or sometimes four-thirty…”

Mary looked at the clock and finished his thought. “… so we have LOTS of time… for US,” she said, while deeply inhaling and showing off more of her full bosom to her father’s appreciative eyes.

Jock slid his hands down Mary’s upper arms and pulled her straight out of the chair, turning her into him as he stepped backward. She followed easily and embraced him, flattening her chest against kağıthane escort his hardpan pectorals. His hands split behind her. While his right hand massaged her firm, yet soft, bottom through her dress’ skirting, he drew its zipper down, from her neck to her waist, and wrapped his left arm around her bared middle back.

Mary crossed her wrists behind her father’s back and flexed her fingers into the rippling muscles overlaying his shoulder blades. Her constricting sphincter goosed her cunny into instant wetness. Her temples throbbed. Jock’s fingers crept up her ribs and stiffly flipped her bra cup over her left breast. As his hand closed beneath the tit’s mass, and his index and middle fingers scissored her fat nipple, she groaned and pulled herself harder on to his chest.

Jock growled, “I HOPE so… I have MISSED being IN you.”

“Nyyaaggh…” Mary gnarred in her thrown-back throat. “And I… h-havvv missed… YOU!”

As they danced between the desks, Jock’s right hand dropped. Clawing his way up Mary’s hams, under her dress and inside the loose left leg of her charmeuse-and-lace tap pants, he drove his stout middle fingers into her cunt. “You mean like THIS?” He snarled the question while he rotated his wrist. His pinky and index fingers grabbed her lips and pulled them tight around his buried digits. “Or, like THIS?” He pressed his thumb against her anus and wormed the pad below its rim as he tickled her juicing tunnel.

Mary bit her lower lip, sucked in a deep breath and exhaled in a long hiss, “Yessssssss, just like THAT!”

Her father slid down her body and knelt before her. She pulled her loose dirndl over her head as he clamped both hands on her trembling bottom, yanked down her knickers and latched onto her downy peach. Dropping her dress, Mary hugged Jock’s head into her. As his tongue slipped up her slice and laved her little bald man, she cried out, “Or… LIKE… THAAAT!” Her interlaced fingers sealed his cheeks to her thighs as she came, weeping and squirting.

Jock gladly suffered his daughter’s enthusiastic orgasm, but his jealous prick, bent double despite its strength, protested painfully. As he knelt, his ass squirmed involuntarily and his thighs crushed his eggs. When, at last, Mary stood more quietly in his hug and her honey had abated, he rose up. Spinning and lifting his daughter by her waist, he laid her supine across his broad desktop, scattering pens, papers, and a closed bottle of India ink.

She laughed delightedly and encouraged, “Hurry, Papa! Come inside and COME… IN… SIDE!” Mary pulled her skewed brassiere clear of her other boob and over her head while Jock threw off his braces and dropped his trousers and shorts in fumbling flurry. His rigid penis shone in his dark iron-gray forest. Bending forward, he seized Mary’s ribcage and slid her, blotter and all, to her destiny.

As Jock’s cock pierced his daughter’s primed pussy, his mouth selected her left breast for additional attention. She mewled and held his head to her tit with her left hand while she crushed and mauled her other boob with her right. Her hips jerked while Jock stuffed himself into her pocket. Lifting her bent legs high against the backs of her father’s arms, she squeezed his ribs with her calves as he lunged.

Pent up and desperate for release, Jock set no records for endurance. After three quick deep strokes, he roared, “YEAAAAHHH, Mare! In THERRRR!” and unloaded his boat in her warehouse.

Mary did not mind the speed. His power and need carried her over her own precipice and she climaxed again while her cunt milked him for extra spurts. Jock held himself welded to her womb until he felt Mary tap him on his back. When he looked into her flushed face, she smiled and asked, “Did you save anything for your SPECIAL?”

Gasping, Jock answered, “J-jesus, Mary! I… don’t… KNOW…” He grinned sillily and turned the question back on her. “What about YOU? You WANT my SPECIAL?”

Mary closed her eyes and nodded. “Uhh-hunh,” she whispered. “Always… All days… I WANT you ALL WAYS…” Her voice trailed away as Jock pulled his softening prick from her swollen garden.

Jock looked at the clock and back at his nude spread-eagled playmate. “Let’s give it a whirl, then,” he said. He laughed. “If we don’t come before the courier, he can sit on the stoop and play with himself.” Extending his hand, Jock pulled Mary from the desk and led her to the knee-hole in front of his armless wooden swivel chair. “Just stand there, darling,” he advised, “while I get some help.”

Sitting down behind her bare bottom, Jock gave each cheek a fast kiss as he leaned forward and reached into the lower right side drawer. While rubbing her left globe with his palm, he retrieved a tube of K-Y surgical gel, spun off the cap one-handed and squeezed a ribbon onto her right hemisphere. She wiggled and said, “That’s nice, Papa.”

After applying maltepe escort more K-Y onto his open left palm, Jock dropped the tube into the drawer beside its fallen cap and closed his greased fist around his restored erection. Just looking at Mary’s sweet heart-shaped ass made his throat tight and his loins churn. Sliding his hand the length of his prick, he continued from its head to his primary target. “OK, Mare,” he directed, huskily, “bend over and spread for me, darling.”

Anticipating him, Mary was already in motion. As soon as his lubricating fingers touched her iris, her clenching pussy extruded thick gobs of Jock’s cum. He smiled and drew out the turtling cream-pie with his pinched right thumb and forefinger while he worked his left digits around her winking rosebud. “UHnnnn… yes, Papa…” Mary groaned, pressing her breasts to the cool wood of her father’s desktop.

Jock added his gray globules to the gel swirl on Mary’s right ass cheek and massaged the sticky-slick goop into the muscle as he augered his left fingers deeper into her widening anus. Squinting his eyes and licking his lips, he asked quietly, “Is this how… TEDDY does it for you, Mare?”

Mary immediately exclaimed over her shoulder, “Oh, Papa! Don’t be sneaky jealous!” She ground her butt against his hands and lied convincingly, “That’s why this is OUR ‘special’… my BOTTOM belongs to YOU… ALONE!” She did not ask, or care, why her father kept the K-Y handy in his desk.

Appeased by her response and responsiveness, Jock growled, “You’re good to your Papa. I’m NOT ‘jealous’… Ted’s your HUSBAND and I LIKE him… but, I ALSO like knowing there’s SOMETHING I give you that you don’t get anywhere else. I love you SO much, Mary.” He popped his fingers from her rectum and pulled her hips back toward his ready ramrod. “Sit down, darling, I think we’re both ready.”

Mary raised up, arched her back and pushed with her hands as she poised her prepared asshole over her father’s fat cock. Settling down slowly, she groaned as he entered, paused and pushed. Heat flashed along her back as she felt him fill her up. Jock gargled happily while his dick sank surely into her tight pit. When her thighs compressed against his, and his pole was balls-deep, they sighed together and sat motionless, enjoying their connection.

Jock slid his hands upward and hefted his daughter’s heavy tits. She squeaked as his pinching fingers closed on her crowns. Leaning forward again, Mary braced her hands on the desk edge, balanced her weight on the balls of her feet and lifted her bottom from Jock’s lap. His six-and-one-half inch greased stalk pulled out of her ass until only its head was tucked in the dark hole. With a grunt, Mary dropped flat-footed and pushed against the oak, swallowing him whole again. He groaned and flexed in her rectum as they began their see-saw.

Still passionate, but comfortably controlled after his first hard ejaculation, Jock stroked smoothly and steadily. Mary, however, panted and chirred as his stick stirred in her ass and increased her tension. She pulled her left hand from the desk and strummed her clit feverishly while she bounced with mounting momentum. Her yelps were infectious. Jock steamed and felt his blood rising. Mary’s squeezing sphincter induced his nuts to tighten in their bag. Jock grimaced and withheld his fire.

When Mary screamed, “NOW! Papa, NOWWWW!” Jock jammed himself flat to her ass and held her writhing hips tight to his thighs. Laying his left cheek flat against her heaving naked back, he closed his eyes. His eggs ecstatically erupted. Mary, locked in place, satisfied her overwhelming need to move by tossing her head and flashing her fingers up and down her peach’s slice as her rollicking crisis raged. She burbled, “Oh, Papa… PAHHH pa…Ohhnn!”

Once again, father and daughter sat motionless. Fused and feint, he held her as she silently sighed and leaned back, adding her own perspiration to Jock’s sweat-soaked dress shirt. They were as one from shoulders to knees. While their breaths coordinated and slowed to normal, their rapture gradually flowed away. With a final twitch of his prick, Jock pushed Mary up and off, holding her steady until she could stand alone. Looking at the wall clock, he said, “It’s four-fifteen, Mare. The boy could be here at any moment.” He kissed her gleaming spine.

“OK, Papa,” Mary replied, nearly inaudibly. Finding her strength, she added, “I’ll get dressed.” While she stepped away from the desk, collected her clothes and put them on, Jock screwed the K-Y cap back on the tube and closed his drawer. Standing, he pulled up his trousers and tucked his sticky prick behind his soaked smelly shirttail.

“Papa, I’ve GOT to get GOING,” Mary said, while she brushed her fingers through her hair. “I haven’t done a THING about supper and Arthur is probably already home… and wondering where I AM.”

Jock had a sudden inspiration. “Hang on, Mare… ‘Pinnochio’ is playing at the Bijou and Cecie has been anxious to see it. Why don’t I take us ALL to dinner and the movie?” His eyes widened as if there could be no simpler, or better, solution to his daughter’s dilemma. “Call the high school and tell Ted to pick up Artie and meet us at the White Star Café at six. I’ll phone Isabel and let her know the plan.”



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