The manipulation continues

“I have an idea Daddy” Lynn said.

As I lay naked with my beautiful 15 year old daughter in my arms, her leg draped over mine as her closely trimmed pubic hairs nutsled against the side of my hip, I asked, “What’s that baby?”

Lynn traced my chest with her perfectly manicured acrylic fingernails. Sitting up slightly, she softly kissed my stomach. “I have a game we can play sometime!” she replied seductively.

Intrigued, and knowing my little girl’s vividly wild imagination, I was eager to hear what she’d conjured up. “And what game would that be?” I asked.

As Lynn explained the details of the intricate sexual tryst she wanted to try, my mind was split between listening to the details of her plan and flashing back to the first time I’d had sex with my baby girl.

Nearly a year ago, I launched what I thought was a creative and devious plot to manipulate my 14-year old daughter into letting me fuck her and not reporting me.

As it turned out, Lynn had inherited my sexual deviance. I soon learned Lynn was more than willing to let me show her how much her Daddy loved her.

Since then, Lynn and I had sex as often as possible, nobody being the wiser.

As wrong as I knew it was to carry on an incestuous sexual relationship with my daughter, my lust and perverted sense of logic always prevailed, resulting in me engaging in one sinful act after another.

Lynn was stunningly beautiful. During our first encounter, although developed, Lynn still maintained a girlish innocence about her. Thirteen months of growth and maturity transformed my little girl into a young woman.

Lynn now stood 5’ 3” tall and weighed a perfectly proportioned 105 lbs. Her hair was professionally frosted with varying shades of blonde and light brown streaks, a new monthly mother-daughter bonding ritual. Her body had maintained the firm, athletic build she had been gifted with. In many aspects, she reminded me of young Jennifer Love Hewitt. The two girls shared similar body types and breast size, probably a feature that initially motivated my impure thoughts about my daughter.

Lynn would arrive home from school at around 3:15 P.M. on the weekdays. My job sometimes allowed me to leave early and I would use this opportunity to ensure Lynn and I were alone between 3:15 P.M. and 5:20 P.M., the time my wife arrived home from work.

These two hours with my daughter were always incredible. Sometimes I would arrive home to find Lynn already naked, legs spread, bent over my favorite leather recliner. Other times, she’d be waiting for me in the shower or I’d find her in her room, her secret vibrator erotically buried inside her. On more than one occasion, Lynn would greet me at the door and drop to her knees as soon as I closed the front door. Lynn always seemed to know what mood I was in and what would arouse me the most on any given day.

Making love to my daughter was remarkable. It was wrong, it was taboo, it was illegal, and immoral, but it was remarkable. Her sexual prowess transcended her young age and, thanks in no small part to me, she was good at being a little slut.

Often, when the house was empty, I could close my eyes and hear the echoes of her throes of passion, remembering the times and places I’d planted my seed inside my daughter. The mere thought of her high-pitched moans would always cause my cock to stir. I’d fucked my little girl in every room in the house in every position you could imagine. Every room, every piece of furniture, even the stairs all held a special place in my heart for they were landmarks where I’d consummated another act of incest with Lynn.

As I lay in bed listening to Lynn outline the details of her idea, I once again felt my cock stir.

Lynn noticed the effects her plan was having on me. “Mmm Daddy, I’d love to but it’s after five already. I gotta get washed before mom gets home”

Lynn was right. My carelessness was going to get me caught one of these days.

“You’re right hun!” I replied. Unable to part with Lynn without one last touch, I rolled up to my knees, leaned forward and kissed my daughters mound. I could still smell the wonderful aroma of our sex.

“God Daddy! You know I love that. Stop before you get ‘er purring again” Lynn giggled.

We quickly straightened up the bedspread on my bed, gathered our clothes and went our separate ways in the house. Within moments, our house had the appearance of any other normal house; the studious daughter completing her homework in her bedroom while the loving husband and father prepared dinner.

As I prepared dinner, I rehearsed Lynn’s plan in my mind. My daughter was brilliant. This was going to be amazing if we could pull it off.

The rest of our week was uneventful. Friday arrived and after dinner, Lynn left to go to her friend Renee’s house for the night.

Having the house to ourselves on a Friday night, it didn’t take long for my wife and me to find our way to our 8-person hot tub.

I smiled as I climbed into the bubbling water. This hot tub had seen its share of sex since we’d installed it a few years ago.

Six years ago, my wife and I ventured to a couples club in Austin, Texas. We’d always been curious about the possibility of introducing a third person into our bedroom or possibly even swapping partners with another attractive couple.

Our foray to the “on-premise” couples club reinforced our curiosity and before long, we had established a close circle of four couples we “swung” with.

When possible, we’d host couples parties at our house. To outsider’s, these get-togethers appeared to be nothing more than occasional social events. The afternoon barbecues evolved into cooling off in the swimming pool or soaking in the hot tub. As the alcohol flowed, so would hormones. Before long, you’d find small groups of people, usually three to six, in the hot tub, one of the bedrooms, or in the living room having sex. Everything was consensual, no meant no, everything was out in the open, and drugs were not allowed. We often termed our get-togethers as “sport fucking.”

We’d made lifelong friends in the lifestyle and enjoyed their company over “vanilla” friends. Vanilla friends are those who were outside the lifestyle and only enjoyed monogamous missionary boring style sex.

Lynn was aware of our “alternative lifestyle.” Apparently, she’d once viewed the “History” on our PC’s web browser and discovered a popular couples website where my wife and I maintained a profile.

Although I didn’t tell my wife, I explained the lifestyle to Lynn when she asked. Lynn loved the idea of me watching another man fuck her mother.

As my wife Monica and I relaxed in the jacuzzi, our conversation became flirtatious.

“Your skirt was a little short today baby. Did you go pantiless?” I asked.

“Yep. And, I made sure that new teller I hired, Stephen, I made sure he saw up my skirt when I was sitting at my desk today!” she answered with her best sexy voice.

“Naughty little girl! I think maybe you need a spankin’!”

“I was a bad wife today” Monica whispered in my ear. “Maybe I should be spanked.”

Our game was already getting me worked up. Monica loved to role-play and having an empty house, tonight was a good night for a little Bondage and Discipline.

“Go shower and wait for me in the bedroom!” I ordered.

“Yes Sir!” Monica answered a she stepped from the Jacuzzi, her naked body glistening from the moisture.

As she stepped from the pool, I grabbed her leg and slid underneath her. With a few quick darts of my tongue, I teased her pussy.

Monica giggled as my tongue lapped against her clit. I lightly smacked her ass, “Go shower sexy!” I joked.

At 37, she was exquisite! Her 5’ 6”, 115lb frame still had the look of a woman much younger. Her $6000 36C breasts were the only cosmetically enhanced part of her body. As she walked away, her mid-back length reddish brown hair blew slightly in the evening breeze. Her perfectly heart-shaped ass swayed back and forth with each graceful step. I was a lucky man, blessed with a wife and a daughter who were the two most beautiful women on the planet; and, I was fucking them both!

Monica quickly disappeared into the house. As she showered, I turned off the hot tub, replaced the cover and quickly showered in the downstairs bathroom.

By the time I made my way upstairs to our master bedroom, Monica was lying naked, spread-eagle on our king-sized bed.

“Is the bad girl ready for her punishment?” I asked sternly.

“Uh huh” Monica replied in an innocent whimpering voice.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I motioned for Monica to lie across my knee.