East Meets West
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East Meets West Pt. 02 Ch. 01 free porn video
If you haven’t read East Meets West, Part 1, then I suggest you read it now, otherwise this story will make no sense to you. I would also like to add that I don’t write sex stories . . . I write stories that have sex in them. Hopefully, the sex enhances the story, but is not the primary reason the story was written. Sex between consenting adults who love each other is truly one of the most glorious things on earth.
I also want to point out a few things here, so I apologize in advance for writing such a lengthy introduction.
I am actually conflicted about which category I should place this story under. I finally decided to also include it under ‘Romance,’ but could just have easily been listed it as ‘Incest,’ or ‘Anal.’ I know there are people who are offended by those final two listings, so this is fair warning. If you don’t want to read about incest or anal sex, then stop now.
One thing that is consistent in my writing is that I write about strong women. Women who are not only the equal to the male lead character, but usually superior. I know many strong women who know what they want and aren’t afraid to go out and get it.
I don’t write about timid women who meekly accept what life deals out, but rather ‘damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead.’ This story is definitely that category. Incest, but very unconventional to what most people probably expect.
I actually wrote Part 1 of East Meets West nearly two years ago. And kept feeling something was missing. I don’t know how the creative process works for others, but for me I get a general idea for a story and start writing. In the original story Jiao and Meili were both in that car crash. Jiao died, while Meili was critically injured. Jack blames himself for Jiao’s death, and Meili’s near fatal injuries.
In the original, Jack meets someone but having lost what he thought was the love of his life, and still blaming himself, he can’t and won’t allow his feelings to show. Only after Meili wakes up and is nearly recovered does she convince him that this other person is right for him. ‘The Miracle of the Silver Dollar’ was included from the very beginning.
But a funny thing happened on the way to the ending. I fell in love with Jiao. At some point (actually by the time I had written about their first night together) I had written enough about Jiao to where I could no longer simply ‘kill off’ a character.
So Jiao was alive and well, but I still felt something was missing. It finally dawned on me that Jiao wasn’t the only woman who was in love with Jack.
Quite frankly, I never thought I would write a story about any form of incest, but then this is not my story – it is Jiao’s and Meili’s and Jack’s story. I am just reporting the story as they told it to me.
East Meets West, Part 2, Chapter 1
‘Daddy, I’m pregnant,’ my daughter Meili told me.
I knew my daughter was not dating anyone, and in fact had not dated in nearly two years. Not since she had launched her bio-genetics lab. In fact, I frequently complained because she never took time to enjoy herself, instead working 15 to 18 hours a day, six or seven days a week.
Daddy, I’m pregnant, the words repeated themselves in my mind.
Part of my mind just seemed to stop, while another part suddenly started operating lightning fast.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
The words kept echoing through my mind.
Time slowed to a crawl.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
I literally felt like someone had punched me in the stomach. I could feel the blood drain out of my face, and for a moment actually thought I would either be sick or pass out.
The one part of my mind that still was working immediately flashed back to the first time I had ever met this young girl I had grown to love so much.
She was only 12 years old at the time and was hiding behind her mother’s waist. All I could see was one jade-green eye, and shoulder-length, jet black hair.
She was so shy, so bashful, and it wasn’t until I asked if she would like to see a magic trick that she acknowledged me in any way.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
She said something in Chinese to her mother, who laughed then told me her daughter said, ‘I’m a scientist, I don’t believe in magic.’
I performed a stupid little magic trick involving a disappearing coin, then asked if she had taken the coin.
The first words she said to me, in perfect English, albeit with a British accent, were: ‘No, what did you do with it?’
I pretended to examine both sides of her face, then ‘pulled’ the coin out of her ear.
She giggled, then threw her arms around my neck and gave me a strong hug and kissed me on the cheek. I was immediately lost. I knew I was helplessly in love with this little girl, just as I was helplessly in love with her mother. I adopted her legally, but had already adopted her into my heart.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
Then my mind flashed back to seeing her in a hospital bed after nearly eight hours of surgery. The extent of her injuries after being hit head-on by a drunk driver were overwhelming. She had died twice in the ambulance, but they were able to get her heart started again. Her blood pressure was almost negligible due to the massive blood loss.
She had compound fractures in both legs, meaning the bones were sticking out, had a collapsed lung, several broken ribs, a ruptured spleen, a broken arm, a fractured skull, a concussion, and swelling of the brain. One knee had also been shattered in the wreck and if she lived they weren’t certain if she would ever be able to walk again without a pronounced limp and without a cane or even crutches.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
I later found out the doctors, even after the surgery, had given her less than a 10 percent chance of living. Only later, years later, did one of the doctors actually add they thought the best thing that could happen would have been if she had died, because they were almost certain she would have brain damage if she did live. Luckily that prediction did not come true.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
Three times in the next few days she nearly died again. Her heart started failing, her blood pressure was dropping and even the doctors and nurses were crying knowing she was dying and there was nothing – medically – they could do to help her.
Twice I was able to bring her back from the brink with my little magic trick. The hospital staff started calling it ‘The Miracle of the Silver Dollar.’ Another time her mother, using the ESP (Extra-Sensory Perception) they shared was able to pull her back to the land of the living.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
I remembered once when 13-year-old Meili fell while trying to ride a bicycle and skinned her knee. She started crying and began running over to where her mother and I were sitting on the ground enjoying a picnic lunch.
Jiao drew herself up to her knees to get ready to offer Meili a comforting hug. Only Meili ran past her mother and flung herself into my arms. That was when I honestly felt like a Dad for the very first time, knowing that she now truly accepted me as her father. I think I started crying harder than Meili was.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
The words kept reverberating through my head.
Another flashback and I remembered the first few weeks in the hospital after she regained consciousness. She had broken her left arm, and since she was left handed, her mother and I had to take turns feeding her until she taught herself to eat
using her right hand, and later taught herself to write also using her right hand. Today, she can eat or write equally well using either hand. In fact she can eat with one hand, while writing or typing with the other. Even more amazingly, she can write in English with one hand, and at the same time write in Russian, German, French or Chinese with the other.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
After well over a month in the hospital, we finally returned home. At first Meili was nearly an invalid. She couldn’t walk, slept 16 to 18 hours a day, and depended on her mother and me for EVERYTHING. Jiao had taken several weeks’ vacation, but eventually had to return to work. I had taken a leave of absence from the college where I taught military history.
I had to help her use the bathroom, and even clean her up after ‘accidents’ while she was sleeping. I also had to constantly change her position in bed to prevent bedsores, and would spend hours each day massaging the muscles of her back and legs to prevent atrophy.
In the first three months Meili had three different surgeries on her knee, putting it back together.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
After she began to heal, a physical therapist came in every day for over a month to work with her, but eventually Meili asked if I could take over. At first I told her I could not do that. After watching several of the sessions with the therapist it looked more like brutality than needed exercise. During every one of those sessions Meili would be reduced to tears because of the extreme pain. I finally had to stop watching because I was afraid I would attack the therapist because of how much she was hurting my daughter.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
Eventually though, Jiao and Meili convinced me to try. Actually, once I saw that both wanted me to do this, I knew it was only a matter of time before I capitulated. Trying to oppose either one in something they were determined to do was nearly impossible, and together . . . well it was like trying to oppose a force of nature like a hurricane or tornado.
At first I tried to take it easy on Meili, but she wouldn’t let me. In one of the exercises I would take her foot and shin and push back against her until her knee was against her chest. I was supposed to make her push back against me to strengthen the muscles in her thigh. I tried to just push back a little because I didn’t want to hurt her, but Meili would yell at me, scream at me, even cuss at me until I eventually was using every ounce of strength in my 180 pound body. The exercise sessions with me were, at Meili’s insistence, even harsher than they had been with the therapist.
Meili would be crying from the pain, but refused to quit. After each session . . . well I would be crying at the pain I was inflicting on my beloved daughter. Every day, though, she got just a little stronger.
Soon Meili had me carry her to the heated, Olympic-size swimming pool in the back yard and we would spend hours swimming together every day.
Finally, leaning heavily on me, she took her first step some six months after the wreck. We walked all of five feet that day. Then six feet the next, and seven after that. Meili’s face would be soaked with sweat from the pain, but she never gave up. After learning to walk again with my help, she started walking with the aid of a crutch, then a cane, and finally without any kind of aid.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
Most people only notice Meili has a limp if she is extremely tired, but Jiao and I can see it every single day. And I still can’t help but blame myself. If only I had been driving that day when the drunk driver crossed over the center line and hit her head-on. If I had been driving, maybe, perhaps, possibly I could have avoided the accident with my much greater experience. Meili needed to buy some new clothes for her new job and knew how much I hated shopping so she told me she would be fine. FINE!!! If I had been driving . . . THEN maybe she would have been fine. And I wouldn’t have felt like I nearly killed my daughter because I didn’t like shopping.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
On one level I knew Meili was now 25, I knew she had been sexually active in the past and I knew she could make her own choice about becoming pregnant.
However, when I look at her I am not seeing the 25-year-old head of the most advanced bio-genetics laboratory on earth. I am still seeing that tiny 12-year-old who threw her arms around my neck all those years ago and giggled and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I am seeing that young adult who had just graduated from college, and was more dead than alive lying in her hospital bed. I a, seeing that oh so small girl who couldn’t even feed herself at first. I am seeing that tiny, precious piece of heaven here on earth whom I had to wash after an ‘accident’ while she was sleeping.
I wasn’t seeing an adult, capable of making her own decisions, I was seeing . . . my daughter. My precious, beautiful daughter whom I had nearly lost.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
I had only been home today for a few minutes and when I walked in the house, both Meili and Jiao were waiting for me.
I just had to stop and admire these two beautiful women. My wife Jiao is just a fraction of an inch over five feet tall and weighs a whopping 90 pounds. Her daughter, my adopted daughter Meili is about 5 feet two, and weighs around 105 pounds.
Both were wearing shorts and a t-shirt, both were barefoot and I was once again amazed that at age 43, Jiao looks at least 20 years younger. Her waist-length hair was still jet-black without even a single gray hair, and her skin and face were flawless.
I immediately thought back to the last time Jiao and I went out to eat. One of the things Jiao was always complaining about was that every time we would go out, if she ordered a mixed drink, or a glass of wine, they would card her. That is, check her I.D., to make sure she was old enough to drink. She really did look that young. Unfortunately, the last time she ordered wine, the waiter simply brought her a glass without asking for any I.D.
If any guy ever tells you they understand women . . . call him a liar. I thought Jiao would be happy that she didn’t have to produce her I.D. Instead she was crestfallen. ‘I look so old,’ she said, ‘old and wrinkled.’
Complete idiot that I am at times, I thought she was joking. I then made some regretful comment about, ‘Well, at least they didn’t bring you the senior citizens menu – yet.’
If looks could kill, I would be dead and buried. It took hours of apologies before Jiao forgave me for what I said. And she still reminds me of it every now and then.
Jiao and Meili really look more like sisters, than mother and daughter. Of course Meili still looked like a teenager herself.
Looking at the two, I was once again struck by the similarities . . . and differences.
Both have waist-length, jet black hair, both have intense jade-green eyes, both have full lips, both have an easy smile. Both have waists that are impossibly tiny, and teeth that are brilliantly white.
Some of the differences are subtle, some not so subtle. Meili’s face is just fractionally wider, and her nose is a tiny bit wider. Meili has just a little more up top than Jiao does, but I have heard Jiao mention Meili still wears an ‘A’ cup bra, so that might give you an indication of how small Jiao’s breasts are. I still think Jiao has the most beautiful breasts I have ever seen, touched, kissed and sucked.
The biggest difference, I guess, is in their hips and legs. Meili’s hips are definitely wider, much wider than her Moms. And while Meili has long, shapely, well
-muscled legs, Jiao’s legs have to be seen to be believed. I don’t think I have ever seen any woman whose legs are as muscled as Jiao’s are.
Meili usually spends at least an hour each day exercising and practicing her Chinese martial arts, but Jiao usually gets up around five, exercises and practices martial arts for an hour, wakes me up, then we exercise together for a while before she instructs me in martial arts. After that, we usually take a shower together, which results in an entirely different type of exercise.
At night, before we go to bed, Jiao will exercise and practice for an hour by herself, then with me for an hour, then we will repeat the shower and the post-shower activities.
Watching Jiao walk is like watching a panther or tiger glide across the ground. She walks with a grace that is incredible, and yet at the same time you can sense the immense power in those legs.
Just a few weeks after we met, I saw Jiao leap straight up in the air, over six feet high, and deliver a killing kick in the Chinese marital art of washu. Washu is usually incorrectly called Kung-Fu here.
As I always do, whenever I see my two ‘girls,’ I smiled, then Jiao walked up to me, hugged me and kissed me and said, ‘Meili has something to tell you.’
I turned to my daughter and waited. And my life changed.
‘Daddy, I’m pregnant,’ Meili said.
Daddy, Daddy, Daddy . . . I’m, I’m, I’m . . . pregnant, pregnant, PREGNANT!
Finally, time seemed to speed back up. I realized that probably only a minute or two had passed while I was thinking about the past 13 years. Then a father’s righteousness and anger began to show itself.
‘Who?’ I yelled at Meili, ‘Who is the son-of-a-bitch?’
Meili turned pale.
‘Tell me who it is that got you pregnant and I will kill the bastard,’ I again yelled. I honestly can’t remember ever being as mad in my life.
Jiao tried to grab my arm, and God forgive me, for the first time in my life I laid a hand on Jiao in anger. I shoved her away, and again demanded that Meili tell me the name of the miserable son-of-a-bitch who got her knocked up.
For the second time in her life, Jiao laid a hand on me in anger.
She slapped me even harder than she had that day on the porch. Stunned, I turned to Jiao and her next words hit me even harder than her slap had.
‘You are the father, Jack, and I am the mother. Meili is the surrogate mother. Meili is carrying our child, Jack. Meili is carrying OUR child,’ she said.
I heard the words . . . but they made no sense. I knew, because of the forced sterilization in China, that Jiao could not have any children, could not be a mother. And how could I possibly be the father of Meili’s child?
By now Jiao had her arms wrapped around me, and I was desperately clinging to her, like a drowning man would cling to a floating scrap of lumber.
I can only imagine what that would have looked like to an unbiased observer.
I’m five feet, nine inches tall, weigh about 180 pounds and keep myself in great shape. A few pounds lighter than my ‘fighting weight’ I had in the Marine Corps, but still very muscular. Jiao is just a fraction of my size, and yet I am holding her as though my life depends on it.
Meili slowly, cautiously walked up to me, put her arms around my shoulder and kissed me on the cheek. It almost killed me to see her afraid to approach me.
‘I love you Daddy,’ she said. ‘I love you and this is my gift to you and Mom – the two people I love more than any other.’
Meili and Jiao each grabbed a hand and led me into the living room where we all sat down on a couch.
Mother and daughter began to explain.
When Meili was only 12 she told me she was a scientist and didn’t believe in magic. Jiao is also a scientist, while I am a simple history professor, but their explanations over the next hour or so sounded a lot more like magic than science.
Mckenna
- 31.07.2020
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