Emily Invites Catherine To Meet Adam
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Emily And Her Father free porn video
He was waiting when she got home. It was dark. The house was full of shadows as Emily crept along the long hallway towards the stairs. Anxious, she had just started to relax, thinking she’d gotten away with it when she heard, “Where the fuck have you been?”
Emily gasped and yelped out a startled, “Oh fuck!”
“Get in here, you dirty little bitch,” he growled.
Emily’s guts turned to water. She was caught. Properly busted. “It isn’t what you think,” Emily warbled.
“I said to get in here,” she heard him snarl. “Don’t make me tell you again.”
Trembling, Emily went. She stepped into the living room. Saw his shape in the old armchair. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered.
He chuckled. It was a dark and disturbing sound. “No you’re not,” he said, voice full of menace.
Emily started with, “I am--” but he cut her off.
He growled, “Shut your lying fucking mouth. Get in here. Get closer. I want to see what you’ve got on.”
Near to sobbing with fear, Emily went. She didn’t want to. Emily would have given a month’s salary not to enter the room. But not going would only make it worse.
Emily yelped when the lamp clicked on, then she heard him mutter something under his breath. She managed a timid, “Pardon?”
“I said, I see you’re wearing that fucking skirt.”
There was nothing she could say to make it better so Emily didn’t reply.
“You know I don’t like it,” he said after a few seconds of awful, doom-laden silence. “It’s too short. It only just covers your arse. Bend over and everyone’ll know what you ate for tea.”
The only thing Emily could think of to say was another warbling apology of, “I’m sorry.”
He scoffed and said, “Sorry my arse. You wouldn’t have gone out dressed that way if you was sorry.” He paused and sighed and added, “If anything, I’m fucking sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t raise you harder. I’m sorry I was too soft on you.”
“You weren’t,” Emily said.
His stare caught her. The intensity in his expression held Emily as tight and strong as his fingers could have if they were clamped around her throat
“Then why do you keep on doing this, Emily? Why don’t you listen?”
With a spark of defiance, Emily said, “I’m eighteen. You’re not the boss of me now.”
As soon as she said it, Emily wanted to take the words back. She saw his face shift through quiet anger to surprise before something she took to be dark and malevolent shone behind his eyes.
“I know you’re eighteen.”
The way he said it puzzled Emily. It had come out just above a whisper, his expression suddenly no longer mean and nasty. Instead, what Emily saw was a distant, wistful look clouding his eyes.
Thinking it was all to do with tricks of the light, Emily didn’t respond beyond a half-shrug.
“You’re eighteen,” he repeated. “And you’re so fucking beautiful, girl.”
The way he was looking at her sent a shiver of something indefinable along Emily’s spine. Confused, she said, “I don’t understand.”
His eyes moved over her body, the track of his appraisal bringing goosebumps which prickled the skin of her arms.
“I don’t like to think about you out on your own. You know, with all them perverts ogling you.”
Disturbed without understanding why, Emily said, “I’m not a tart. They might look but I don’t do anything.”
“You don’t understand,” he said.
The tone of his voice, low and troubled, confused Emily further. “I already told you,” she said, “I don’t.”
“You’re eighteen,” he whispered.
Exasperation rose inside her as, terse, Emily said, “What does that mean?”
It surprised Emily to see his anguished expression while his Adam’s apple bounced.
In response to his heavy swallow, Emily asked, “Is something the matter with you?”
Suddenly, he deflated. The fire and anger left his body as, shoulders slumping, he sighed and sat back in the chair. His eyes closed. “I … I can’t tell you,” he stammered.
“Daddy, I’m scared,” Emily murmured.
Her father sighed again, shaking his head. “I think you should go,” he said, groaning it out.
Concern displaced her earlier fear of the man. Cautious, as though he was a wild b**st instead of her father, Emily stepped closer.
Less than a foot away from him, she asked, “Are you sick? Is there something the matter?”
Emily gasped when her father’s eyes snapped open.
“Really,” he said through fritted teeth. “It’d be better for both of us if you left me alone.”
“But I’m worried about you. If you’re sick--”
Cutting Emily off again, the words exploded from him. “It isn’t anything like that! I’m not fucking poorly. I’m not ill. I haven’t been to no doctor.” He paused, and the eyes on his daughter were anxious and troubled. As he sucked in a deep gulp of air and let it out on one long sigh he closed those eyes again. his fingers were tight against the arms of the chair. After several seconds of obvious inner turmoil, he opened his eyelids lifted and he stared at his daughter. “But I should probably go and see one,” he added. “A fucking head doctor, I mean. What I’m thinking, Emily … Christ,” he groaned after a pause, “I’m going off my nut with this.”
Through a whisper, she asked, “What is it?”
Emily flinched at the force of his response. “Nothing I can talk to you about! Go on, get out. Get away from me!”
“Dad, please…”
Then he was leaning forward, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. It was a pose of torment. Emily could see his anguish, his suffering twisting agonised coils inside her and, ignoring the potential for further anger, Emily reached out and touched her father’s shoulder.
His face tilted towards her. “I’m jealous,” Emily hard her father gasp.
Not understanding, Emily said, “Of what?” She paused and added, “Of who?”
He waved a hand in an all-encompassing gesture. “All of ‘em. Every-bloody-one. I’ve seen ‘em looking,” he groaned. “At you,” he went on with a sigh of despair.
Emily blinked and looked down, confused. There was pressure on her leg. Her father’s hand loosely clasped on her thigh. Then she shifted her attention to his face, the expression she saw setting something dark and clandestine to uncoiling in a place which was deeper than the pit of her stomach. Without knowing why, Emily felt sudden heat flood her vulva.
“Smooth … Beautiful,” her father breathed. The way he said it sounded like a distant reverie to Emily, the words accompanied by the gentle stroke of his fingers at a very inappropriate place on her inner thigh. “I’m damned,” she heard him murmur.
Emily gasped when the axe-blade of her father’s hand pressed against her sex. “Dad,” she breathed.
The pressure was an insistent see-sawing movement against her intimate place when her father mumbled, “Yeah?”
Her throat felt clogged with cotton wool when Emily sighed in reply. “Yuh-you’re touching me,” she stuttered.
“I know, baby; I know…”
In a surreal few seconds Emily’s mind worked with computer-quick speed as it worked through every possible permutation and outcome. She knew, on a visceral, instinctive level, that what was occurring was wrong. The thing was, in those precious moments, Emily didn’t care. It had been years since her mother had deserted her young, burgeoning family for a flash smile and a spiv’s gilded promises of adventure and travel and the brightest of futures. Trouble was there was no room for a young daughter in that awful man’s plans. So Emily’s mother had run, leaving father and daughter to get by as best they could. And they had. And it had been a struggle at times but, way down inside her, in a place she was only aware of in the vaguest, most distant way, Emily knew her mother’s exit, cruel as it had been, was the best thing for Emily’s father.
The consequence of Emily’s quicksilver thoughts were for her to move in closer to her daddy so she could pull his head gently towards her stomach. With him sitting and her standing, Emily held her father close, keeping him tight against the feminine place inside her. She held her daddy’s head close to her womb, crooning at him that he could touch her if he wanted to.
“I’ll be a wife to you, daddy,” she sighed, not knowing where the words came from.
***
She was on her back, legs folded, pelvis angled so her own father could penetrate her. Emily squirmed, simultaneously urgent and scared of the moment. He was above her, one thick arm bunching with effort as he held himself over her body, his spare hand on his cock, the big dome aimed at his daughter’s body. Emily’s small tits were bare, the bootlace top shoved up to her throat, the skirt bunched at her middle.
Emily’s underwear was a discarded scrap, yanked down by her father when the passion ignited, flung aside as he’d gasped and stared at his daughter’s bare mound.
At the pivotal moment, poised as he was above her, Emily’s father gasped out, “Emily, shit, are you sure?”
Impatient, Emily shunted her hips. “Yes, please, put it in.”
“But you’re my daughter.”
“I know,” Emily snorted. She reached for his shoulder, fingers clamped against the bulging muscle. Her father might be past his prime but he was used to hard work. Long hours outside, lifting and carrying, his body large and robust. The size and texture in that latent power only served to make Emily even more desperate. “But this is what I want. I need it, daddy. I want you to do it.”
His stare burned into Emily’s soul, the fire so hot she moaned and gasped at her father to fuck her.
“Emily,” he gasped, somehow shocked to hear her use the expletive.
“No. Shut up. Stop pissing about. I want you to fuck me. I want that big fucker inside me.”
Frustrating his daughter so much she choked on it, her father asked, “You’ve done this before? You’re not a virgin?”
“Yes I have. No I’m not.”
His face twisted with hate. “Who have you done it with?”
“Kevin,” she gasped.
“I’ll kill him.”
Emily laughed, euphoric, caught in the craziness of what they were doing. “No you won’t,” Emily snorted. “You’ll leave him alone. He’s a boy. He was my first but now I need a man. I need you to fuck me. I want to be a wife, daddy.”
His throat worked as he asked, “A wife?”
“Your wife,” she sobbed. Emily wriggled and shoved herself up towards the big brutal bulb. “Please, just put it in. Fuck me. It’s what I want. I’m ready. I’m wet. I want you do fuck me and show me what love is.”
Her father let go of his dick so he could rest his weight on both straight arms. “You do it,” he growled, eyes locked on her gaze. “You want this to happen? You put me in.”
Emily gasped and wriggled, a hand going down to the cock. Her father gulped when Emily’s fingers gripped the shaft. He mumbled something Emily couldn’t make out, his mouth hanging slack as he looked down to where his daughter held his size.
“You’re really gonna do it,” he said on a moan. “Emmy, I don’t believe it. This is really gonna happen.”
Mushing the cock-head through her vulva, gasping and moaning when the big thing slid over her clit, Emily squirmed and watched her father’s face. “Fucking,” she whimpered. “We’re going to start fucking.”
“I didn’t raise you this way.”
Emily paused. One little upthrust with her hips would do it. If she shoved upwards her pussy would take her own father. “You raised me the right way,” Emily mumbled, excitement thrumming within. “But I’m grown up now. I’m not a little girl. I’m a woman and I want to be a woman with you.”
It thrilled Emily when her father’s eyes flicked down to where they were almost joined, his focus switching back to her face. She saw disbelief in his expression, with love behind his eyes in amongst everything else he was feeling in that momentous few seconds.
“You’ll always be my little girl,” Emily heard him sigh.
“Forever,” Emily said.
Then she moved, her father’s love nudging past the slight resistance as she gave her body to him.
“Ah, fuck,” her father gasped, eyes wide with surprise.
Exhilarated at the sensations, as her father’s length slid into her pussy in one long simple glide, Emily whimpered and groaned.
“Hot,” her father gasped.
“Big,” Emily said, grunting the word. “Daddy, you’re stretching me.”
“Kevin wasn’t like this, was he?”
Emily sucked her lower lip between her teeth, too shocked and excited to articulate a verbal reply, she stared into his face and shook her head from side-to-side.
“A boy,” her father scoffed as he started to ling slide of almost total withdrawal.
In panic, Emily squeaked, “Don’t take it out!”
“I’m not. I’m just getting into me stroke.”
Her father paused, teasing Emily with the big dome. He gazed at his daughter, expressions shifting across his face before, ducking to kiss his daughter like a lover for the first time, Emily’s father pushed his size back into the body.
“I’m gonna smash your cunt,” he growled, moving with vigorous strokes.
Caught up as she was, laid on the sofa, bent like a pretzel, the backs of her knees hooked around the crook of her father’s elbows, helpless and at his mercy, Emily, chin-on-chest, knees up to her shoulders, stared at her father. “Do whatever you want,” she sobbed. “Fuck me but love me, too. I want us to do this for ever and ever…”
Their first time was about her father working the guilt out of himself. He went at his daughter, fucking into her body, using his size on her cunt. As they rutted, Emily’s father gazed into her eyes. His expression was all about determination, the look suggestive of how he wanted to dominate her. For her part, Emily adored the sensations. He was bigger and stronger and infinitely more practiced than Kevin had been. Also, he was her father. Emily loved him, the filial love shifting and morphing into something else as she worked up against her gather’s robust, determined downward strokes.
Their bodies were colliding with loud meaty thwacks when Emily’s father grimaced and groaned out, “Can you get pregnant?”
“I will if you want me to,” Emily said, jolted by the idea. Excited at the thought of her father’s sperm swimming inside her, Emily moaned and added, “You can put a baby inside me.” She gasped and clawed at her father’s shoulders, then went on to sob, “I’ll be a wife for you, daddy. I’ll look after you. Just love me. Give me the love.”
Her father was thrusting, wall-eyed with what he was feeling, his length inside Emily up to his balls when he grunted and snorted. “I’m coming,” he snarled, words strained through gritted teeth.
“I can feel it swelling,” Emily gasped. She stared at her father, watching his face as he emptied himself. “God, daddy, you’re coming inside me!”
As soon as it was over, the second his long, glistening cock slid from his daughter, Emily’s father started to babble. “God, shit, no,” he gasped, eyes on where her core gaped, scarlet and swollen. “We didn’t … You shouldn’t have let me do it in you … Fuck, no. What have we done? Emily, please, tell me you’re on the pill.”
Emily struggled upright. She sat up, her father staring with fear in his eyes as he stood in front of her, cum shivering like a loose, silvery thread from the swollen cock-head. Emily spread her thighs, eyes down while she fingered the slippery ooze seeping out of her body.
When her fingers came up smeared with her father’s lust, Emily groaned, desire squeezing her in the pit of her stomach. “You came so much,” she gasped, eyes on her father’s tormented face.
“I didn’t mean to do it,” he muttered, fearful and anxious.
“Don’t worry,” Emily said. “I’m taking precautions. I know you don’t know. I was worried you’d go mad about it.”
The relief was obvious in his sigh and the slump of his shoulders as he relaxed. “Thank fuck…”
Emily rose to her feet and hugged her father. Petite as she was, the top of her head only reached his chest. “That’s nice,” Emily breathed, secure in his huge embrace.
“Oh, Emmy, what have we done?”
She didn’t look up at him. Emily kept her face tight to her father, his familiar, comforting scent reinforcing the feeling of safety. “It’s all right, daddy. Don’t worry about anything. It’s what we both needed to happen.”
She heard him mutter, “But I’m your father…”
“And I love you,” Emily said. “You being who you are only makes me feel loved.”
“But that wasn’t love.”
“Oh, daddy,” Emily sighed, “it was love. What I felt just now? That was love. When you let go in me…?” Emily moaned and shivered in response to the prickles which tickled her spine. “When you talked about me getting pregnant…”
Her father pushed Emily away from his body, fingers tight around her upper arms, expression intense. “Don’t talk about that,” he growled.
Emily shook her head and forced herself back against his chest. “I’m just saying I loved everything we did. I don’t want anything to ruin how I feel about you, daddy. Don’t spoil it. Just hold me.”
His heart was a jack-hammer inside the rack of his ribs, breathing fast and urgent. She felt the tension inside her father. Emily could feel his jangling nerves and understood he was close to panic.
“Hug me, daddy,” Emily whispered. “Don’t talk. Don’t think. Just hold me for a minute. We can talk about everything later. For now, just hold me tight.” Emily could feel the strain working inside her father, a battle of morals and fear and guilt. Then, again, she felt the tension leave him, his kiss against the crown of her head.
Into Emily’s hair, he mumbled, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Right now it’s perfect,” she whispered, love a hot coal in her chest.
“We shouldn’t have done it.”
Emily replied with, “We did, though. And it was lovely.” She paused and pulled away from his hold and, with her eyes searching his face for signs of doubt, Emily said, “I want to do it again, too. I want us to do it lots of times.”
Then, after hesitation from her father, they shared a long, lingering kiss.
***
The American was sitting at the bar. “Hey,” he said.
“Hello,” said Emily’s father. He ordered a beer and was promptly served one in a frosted glass.
The American turned and asked, “English?”
Emily’s father nodded and swallowed the mouthful of beer. “Yeah,” he said.
The American asked, “How you liking Vegas?”
“Different to what I’m used to.”
The American chuckled. “Yeah,” he said through a rueful expression, “I get that. How come you’re in town? Vacation?”
Emily’s father hesitated before saying, “I’m here with my fiancé. We’re getting married.”
The American didn’t reply. He just nodded. Which is when Emily walked in.
Emily’s father saw the interest spark in the American’s eyes when the man spotted Emily.
“Wooh, now she’s cute,” The American said.
“She is,” Emily’s father responded. “That’s the girl I’m going to marry…”
END
***
A quick, off-the-cuff scene this time. I pushed it out this weekend. It's as it fell off the keys. No edits, etc., so please forgive any errors. I would have tidied it up but have something pressing I need to get on with.
Errors notwithstanding, I hope you enjoy this quickie. Feedback is appreciated.
Thanks for reading.
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