Donald Eric And Me

Is it wrong to "sell" one's body to protect a loved one?

Is it forbidden to love two men?

Is it taboo to be sexually shared between a father and son?

Is it wrong when physical love occurs between a girl and her father-in-law?

These are questions that most women would never have to deal with . . . but Ashley did.

*****************

I walked slowly up the stairs and down the hall towards the baby's room. It was past time for his midday feeding, and as I hurried down the hallway, I thought of how much I looked forward to this time of day, almost as much as the baby did. As I walked through the bedroom door, I unbuttoned my blouse and bending over the side of his crib picked him up. I laughed softly as his little hands opened and closed with excitement as his mouth eagerly rooted for my swollen nipple, and finding it latched and began to suckle aggressively. I stood there holding him, marveling at how beautiful he was and how much I loved him despite my feelings when I had first discovered my pregnancy.

I pulled the baby closer to me and adjusted my engorged teat in his warm, moist mouth. As I was about to move to the old rocking chair in the corner of the room, I felt Donald pressing against me from behind, his cock growing hard against my ass. He lifted the skirt of my thin cotton house dress and ran his large hand over the skimpy crotch of the black silk thong that revealed much more than it concealed. With a rising flush, I sensed how damp I had become at his demanding touch. I needed to put the baby down, and he immediately began screaming with indignation when my teat slipped from his mouth. Not deterred, my baby's father reached around my hip, cupped the front of my thong in his hand, and feeling the wetness between my legs, fondled my clit through the thin fabric.

"Don, wait . . . the baby, wait," I protested as I tried to squirm away from him. "Put him in the crib," he said in a low, lust filled voice that did not beg defiance. Pulling from his pants his long, thick and pulsing cock, he roughly pushed it into my tight pussy. I knew it was pointless to struggle and so I stood there obediently as he thrust eagerly into me, taking his pleasure between my legs.

I caught my breath as he excitedly continued to fuck me hard and deep. After several minutes, to my chagrin, I felt an orgasm building. Not waiting for me, he came in three hard thrusts, spewing copious thick, white cum deep inside me and as if on cue, I immediately found myself shivering and panting as my own orgasm washed over me. Donald slowly pulled his still hard, thick cock out of me. He grinned lecherously at me as his cum began to dribble down the inside of my thighs.

"Fuck, that was good, just what I needed," he said while kissing the nape of my neck and squeezing my milk-heavy breast possessively.

He lovingly and quite unselfconsciously stroked his veiny, ruddy colored dick in front of me and I fully expecting him to demand that I suck him clean. I turned toward him, but when he heard the baby whimpering in his crib, I saw the desire in his eyes reluctantly begin to dim.

"Come to my room tonight after Eric is asleep," he said cleaning himself with a tissue before adjusting his pants and leaving the room. I gave a deep sigh of contentment when I heard the door close and reminded myself to speak with him later about using a condom. Of course, I was nursing, but if he persisted in not using a condom, and taking his pleasure whenever he pleased, he would soon have me pregnant with another baby.

The baby was fretting and hungrily began to root at my teat when I picked him up. I walked over to the old rocker, sat down and quietly began to breastfeed him. After a while, he settled and calmed as I cooed to him while he nursed. I looked down at him and again marveled at how much he looked like his father, thick, curly, dark blond hair, a small but noticeable cleft in his little chin and deep blue eyes that even in his infancy could seemingly see into my heart. I rocked slowly in the chair as he nursed and eventually slipped into an overdue nap.

My mind drifted as I considered the situation I now found myself. Donald, was my father-in-law, the biological father of my baby and not Eric, my husband. My baby was the spitting image of his father, and for this, I was grateful. Fortunately, Eric my husband and Donald my father-in-law looked remarkably alike, Eric being just a younger version of his elder, there was little doubt they were father and son, and my baby could easily be the offspring of either man's seed. Eric didn't know the truth and from the beginning believed the baby was his. Donald, his father, knew and sometimes seemed to take a perverse pleasure in knowing that he had been having sex with me, his son's wife since before Eric and I married, and had impregnated me.

*****

I met Eric Taggart innocently enough in the elevator of the apartment building where we both lived. I had held the door open for him as he rushed to get in before it closed on him. We laughed and got to talking, when we got to his floor, instead of going our separate ways we ended up instead heading down to the neighborhood Starbucks for coffee. Eric was a few years older than I was and seemed like a nice person, good looking with thick blond hair, deep blue eyes, with a slim build. As it turned out we discovered we went to the same university; he was a graduating senior with plans to start working on his post-graduate degree and I was a junior, leaning more toward the performing arts, you know music, art, dance, etc. Further strengthening the connection between us was the unexpected fact that our families, actually our fathers were business associates. Daddy and Eric's father had apparently collaborated in several vague and perhaps shady business dealings, and Daddy had gotten himself into some questionable business and financial difficulties. I didn't know the details of what had happened, though there had been rumors of embellishment.

Anyway, since high school, I had always had a thing for "jocks"; Eric was the total opposite, being more the dorky, nerdy type. The few relationships that I had had before hadn't lasted very long, mainly because I wouldn't put out and when they realized this, it usually signaled the end of the relationship. Eric was different. Non-threatening, soft spoken and thoughtful, I really liked him. We went out several times, began having some pretty heavy make out sessions that usually ended with me letting him use my mouth and him masturbating me to orgasm . . . but I wouldn't let him fuck me. I liked him a lot, but I just wasn't ready for that. With Eric, there was no pressure; he said he could wait, that he wanted it to be right for both of us when we finally had sex. I have to smile when I think back because I'm not quite sure how it happened, but to my surprise, I found myself falling in love with Eric. That first Christmas we were together, Eric invited me to spend a few days with his family, and it was during that visit I met his father, Donald Jefferson Taggart.

*****

Though we were drastically different personality wise, Eric and I made an attractive couple, and I already knew we would eventually have a very satisfying sex life. There was no doubt he enjoyed having his dick sucked. He loved when my long auburn colored hair would lightly feather over his balls or brush across his thighs, and the way I would look up at him my large brown eyes soft with desire, my full sensual mouth warm and moist filled with his cock. I had a small athletic frame, full breasts with dark areolas and perpetually hard nipples, and a high, firm, youthful ass that men found attractive and desirable. I knew Eric would sometimes become jealous when he saw other men watching me, but all it would take to diffuse his pique was for me to kneel before him, crawl between his legs and adoringly suck him to distraction.

It was during that year following our Christmas visit that I discovered Donald was interested in me but chose to ignore his advances in light of my relationship with Eric. I suffered Donald's attentions at first because he was Eric's father, but that was as far as it went. Donald however apparently had other plans in mind. Using my father's unfortunate financial and legal circumstances to his lascivious advantage, he began consistently coming on to me, becoming more and more sexually aggressive verbally and physically. Despite my embarrassment, I finally gathered my courage, went to my Dad, and told him what Don was doing and that I didn't like it. I begged him to talk to Donald and let him know his attentions were not welcomed.

To my surprise and disappointment, Daddy took Donald's side. He said that despite Donald being older than I am, he had always had an affection for me and spoke of me often.

"I don't care, that's his problem," I practically shouted at him in frustration.

"You could do a whole lot worse, he cajoled. He likes you Ash and probably doesn't realize how overbearing he is."

"Oh Daddy, just talk to him, just tell him to leave me alone, tell him you don't like it. Please, Daddy just talk to him," I implored.

"Look, Ash, you know I've had some serious financial problems. Donald has agreed to work with me to repay my debt and not take me to court where I could very well end up being sent me to jail. He's been understanding despite what I did, honey; he's giving me a second chance. I don't think your "being nice to him" is too much to ask.

"But Daddy, he's older than you are and he's a pig besides. I hate when he looks at me. He makes no pretense about what he wants to do with me . . . does he tell you that? It scares me."

"Of course I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do, but it would help me get through this mess if you could just find it in your heart to be nicer to him. Please Baby, do it for me."

I was hurt by what I saw as Daddy's betrayal, but relented, "Alright Daddy, I'll do what I can," I said after a long pause.

Daddy pulled me into his arms and squeezed me so tight it was hard to breathe; I felt like I had when I was a little girl.

"Thank you, sweetheart," is all he said, confident in the knowledge that his little girl would do whatever I needed to do to protect him and keep him out of jail.

*****

Knowing the stress I was under, my BFF Janet Maddow invited me out for drinks and as we sat, talking and enjoying an early evening cocktail. Janet and I had been friends since high school, and she had always been my sounding board for everything and anything that bothered me. We ordered dinner and as we waited to be served, we talked about the mess Daddy was in with Donald, and how strapped for money to cover my tuition and living expenses one day I was.

I sat quietly sipping my drink, and I finally told Jan the full details about Donald and my father's attitude about my becoming Don's friend. She sat across from me, drink in hand listening intently to my describing the decision I would have to make.

"Have you ever honestly thought about dating older men?" Jan asked me as she started her third cocktail and eyed me closely.

"Not really," I replied.

"They like young, hot women, its as simple as that, she said matter-of-factly. You go out with them, mainly companionship, conversation, dinner, social events and if he wants and you agree, it could include sleeping with him. It just depends on the arrangements the two of you make. These old guys are willing and able to dangle their wealth and their dicks as a means to entice willing, adventurous, and desperate young women."

Well, I was certainly disparate. Sure I had loans and scholarships that helped, along with a part time job which paid minimum wage, but it just wasn't enough, and I couldn't count on my Father to help me anymore he had enough problems of his own. By the time I met Janet for drinks that day, my back was against the proverbial wall, and I needed to explore alternative means of financing my education, and helping Daddy if I could, but . . . I wasn't quite ready for being "nice" to some old man like Donald.

Appreciating the fact that I needed the money and knowing how I felt about prostituting (that's what it would be after all) myself to Donald, Janet gave me the name of a photographer friend of hers who was looking for new models. The modeling was explicit but paid well and was sometimes quite enjoyable. If nothing else, it was an education. I surprised myself when I realized I was open to just about anything; girl on girl, men, white, black, Asian, old, young, sucking cock, eating pussy, penis in vagina whatever, it didn't matter because no one would know it was me.

My face was always obscured in some way, so for the most part my identity was protected. I modeled for almost three months and often found the work challenging. I was amazed to find that while most of the pictures would only be seen in low-end men's magazines and websites, some of the photographs taken were beautiful, artistic photos that could be displayed in any art gallery. In fact, if you are a frequent visitor to websites like Literotica, you've probably seen many of my images, they run the gamut from artistic to raunchy on some of the popularly viewed threads.

After another month or so of "explicit" photographic modeling, I realized I still wasn't making enough money. Daddy and Don were increasing their pressure on me, and though I'm not proud of my decision, considering everything, I grudgingly decided to "befriend" Donald, and in doing so, Donald promised that he would not bring charges against my father.

Donald, knowing my father was in no position to help me financially with school, arranged to take care of my tuition and associated school related expenses, my apartment, as well as to deposit an allowance for me each month. Just the thought of him touching me was repulsive, but I felt as if there was little I could do. In exchange for his help, I was to be available and willing whenever he wanted me. My part would be to acquiesce to his sexual enjoyment and satisfaction, to provide, as he so crudely put it, "a warm receptacle."

Donald was still a relatively good-looking man in his early fifties, tall, a small but growing middle-aged paunch that hung over the top of his pants, a receding hairline and most important financially very well off. I had met his wife during that Christmas visit almost a year ago. I felt sorry for her being married to a man like Donald and at the same time sad for her and me because under other circumstances she and I might have been friends.

*****

I remember the night Donald took my virginity. There was no caring, thoughtfulness or concern, just an egotistical brute claiming what he was paying for. We had been out and gone back to the apartment that he had gotten for me. He told me to take my clothes off and get in bed, and then he was on me, inside me. I screamed when he pushed into me sending prickly fingers of pain through me.

"Shhhhh, shhhh" he hissed in a thick, muffled voice. "I'm gonna fuck this pussy good and hard little girl! Who's pussy is it now? Who's pussy is it?" He demanded, and when I realized what he was asking all I could do was whimper, "yours, it's yours."

When he came, grunting and groaning I lay there under him, stunned, shocked and inexplicably aroused.

"Stop crying, he said roughly. If you don't want your old man going to jail, you'll open those pretty thighs for me and learn to like it and show a little appreciation. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said and turned away from him when he rolled off me.

Until Donald, I had not been with a man sexually, not even with his son Eric; Don was my first, and he introduced me to various types of lovemaking, oral sex, asphyxiation, mutual masturbation, light bondage, prostate stimulation and anal sex. There were even occasional incidents of rough and even forced sex. I submitted to whatever he wanted, and I said nothing. Sex was important to Donald and was an integral part of our arrangement. With me he could act out his fantasies and fetishes, he could experiment in ways his wife would never allow. He took whatever innocence I might have had.

*****

Despite the rocky beginning and my initial dislike of Donald, I soon found myself becoming comfortable with him and enjoying the physical side of our arrangement. I was there for his convenience; I never knew when he might stop by or want to go out. I surprisingly looked forward to being with him. On more than one occasion, I would hear the front door open, and then the deadbolt being thrown. Though surprised by his early morning visit I'd smile inwardly, happy that he was here.

Laying there in the darkened room, and I could hear him in the kitchen, cabinet doors closing, glasses rattling as he made himself a drink and walked down the hall to my bedroom. Removing my panties in anticipation, I'd drop them on his pillow before letting my fingers inch between my legs and lightly tease my clit. In the quiet of the room, I'd watch him disrobe and take a deep drink from his glass. A broad grin would spread across his face when he saw the panties before he crawled into bed and pulled me to him.

"Hi," I said as I snuggled into the warmth of Donald's arms.

"Hi baby," he said rolling me onto my back. He parted my legs and bringing his face close inhaled the scent of my young pussy, spread my soft pink petals and sucked my swollen clit. An involuntary moan escaped my lips, and the sound an anguished groan followed as his teeth gently nipped my clit. I started to move about whorishly, my thighs tight against his cheeks as my desire, my need to orgasm built. Then, I was cumming; I could feel a warmth wash over me as I grabbed his head and pressed it hard against my pussy and came in a wet, gut wrenching orgasm.

Before I had a chance to recover, he mounted me. I felt his large warm hands begin to caress and fondle my breasts making them swell and my nipples harden. The aching neediness and growing wetness between my thighs were becoming deliciously unbearable when he bent forward and sucked my nipple into his mouth. I remember laying there thinking of something Janet had said to me weeks earlier, "they may be old enough to be your father or even your grandfather, but you're just the type wealthy, perverted old men get super hard for and love to fuck; young, pretty, fresh faced girls. You allow them the fantasy of slipping it to their daughters, but not their daughters. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah," I had replied, even though I really didn't understand what she was getting at.

*****

I had known Eric, for several months before I was actually introduced to Donald. The relationship between Eric and me developed relatively quickly. I didn't intend for it to happen, but we became a couple. It started off tentatively, and like most young couples we spent a lot of time talking and laughing together, drinking, dancing and eventually making out in the backseat of his car where I gave him the first of many blow-jobs. Things changed when I met Donald, and for my father's sake and my own, I eventually became intimate with Donald, despite holding myself from Eric. Though he was a bit of a nerd, I liked Eric, and for a while, I was deathly afraid he would somehow find out about his father and me. Eric and I just seemed to be drawn to each other, and over time, I fell in love with Eric and perhaps out of a sense of guilt I began having sex with him as well. These feelings seemed to overshadow my fear of our being discovered.

Eric never found out about his father and me, but I did tell Donald when I became sexually intimate with Eric. Thinking he would be repulsed by the thought of fucking the same girl as his son, I was amazed when I realized his feelings were quite different, and that he was instead aroused and excited by the notion of he and Eric both having sex with me.