Jamie let the hot water streaming from the shower wash over her, soaking her long raven hair and rinsing it free of the shampoo she had just finished massaging into it. The water ran down the length of her body, the needle spray pelting her breasts, sensitizing her nipples, and forming a river between them which ran down her smooth, taut tummy and over the sparse triangle of neatly trimmed hair between her muscled thighs.
Jamie picked up the soap from the dish and began lathering her lean body, working the suds into a thick foam as she ran the soap in circles over her full breasts, her fingers lightly brushing across her taut nipples, before moving down over her abdomen. She lathered up the triangle of dark hair between her legs, letting her fingers lingeringly trace up and down the lips of her teenage pussy, feeling them swell with blood as she teased them, dragging her nail lightly up them. Losing herself in the combined sensations of the pulsating hot water and her fingers, she pulled back the hood of her clit, letting her soapy finger trace circles around it, her long perfectly sculpted nail tracing it lightly.
She was rocked out of her reverie by the sound of the bathroom door opening. Jamie froze, her fingers still lightly touching the lips of her sex, and listened. She eased back the edge of the blue shower curtain and peeked out.
Standing next to the shower, eyes still mostly closed by sleep, dark hair silvering at the temples standing up in a rat's nest of tangles, was her father. He stood in front of the toilet with his worn burgundy bathrobe hanging open. Jamie could see his swollen penis as he forced out the first piss of the morning.
Jamie couldn't pull her attention away from her father's engorged member. Her fingers began teasing the swollen lips of her sex more urgently as she examined him through the narrow part in the shower curtain. At eighteen, she was still a virgin. She had thus far resisted all the overtures of Jeremy, her quarterback boyfriend, to give in and have sex as "a sign of her love for him". Her father's penis…or cock, as her boyfriend liked to call it…was the first she had ever seen outside of sex education textbooks. She was amazed by the thickness of it…and realized that it wasn't even fully erect!
Her father finished urinating and, still half asleep, reached forward and depressed the handle on the back of the toilet, flushing it. The water of the shower grew scalding hot for a moment, and Jamie let out a little yelp and jumped. Her father's eyes widened as he looked towards the shower. Jamie pulled back from the crack in the curtain just in time. She would die of embarrassment if Daddy caught her looking at him!
"Sorry princess." Her father mumbled sleepily. "Wasn't thinking. Need coffee."
"It's okay Daddy." She called, her voice slightly strained, as he stumbled back out of the bathroom towards the kitchen to make the desperately needed extra strong, extra black brew he started out each day with. He shut the door behind him and Jamie leaned back against the wall of the shower stall. She was amazed to find that her fingers were still busily stroking her clit.
"This is wrong." She told herself, as she leaned back, water running over her, and began fingering herself with more urgency. "Thinking about Daddy and playing with my pussy in the shower. I'm such a naughty slut!" The thoughts only seemed to turn her on more. She rolled her clit between her fingers, then pinched it hard, gasping slightly at the sharp pain, before she released it and gasped anew at the rush of blood returning.
"He's not really my father, though," she thought, her fingers trailing down her plump labia. "He's Daddy, of course…but Mom didn't marry him until I was a year and a half old. I've always known he's not my biological father…but he's always been my Daddy…even after Mom died."
Jamie thought briefly about her mother, who had died in an automobile accident when Jamie was ten years old. Then other thoughts invaded her mind…thoughts of Daddy and Mom in bed. Thoughts of Daddy fucking Mom with that huge cock. Thoughts of Mom writhing in the bed beneath him, arching her body up to meet his thrusts. And somehow, as two fingers began stroking in and out of her tight passage, the image of her mother bucking and moaning beneath her father changed and became an image of her, Jamie, bucking and moaning beneath him. She could feel his thick cock buried deep within her. She could feel his mouth kissing her. She could feel his strong body pressing her down against the mattress.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, Jamie's body tensed and she choked out a low moan as she was wracked by an intense orgasm. The other orgasms she had brought herself to over the years seemed minor compared to this one. She felt her knees going weak, and lowered herself, crouching in the corner of the tub, as she tried to get her breathing and pulse back under control.
Jamie tensed suddenly as she heard the door to the bathroom open again.
"Princess? Save some hot water for Daddy, okay?" Her father called. Then she heard the bathroom door closing again. She quickly finished showering and shut the water off, pulling back the curtain and stepping out onto the rug. She dried off quickly, wrapping the damp towel around her hair, and grabbed her pink silk robe off the hook on the back of the door, hurriedly putting it on and exiting the bathroom.
"All finished Daddy." She called as she went into her bedroom to fix her hair and make up and dress for school.
- - - - -
Kevin Allen walked into the bathroom recently vacated by his teenage daughter and hung his ratty burgundy robe on the hook on the back of the door. He hung the clean towel he'd just grabbed from the linen closet on the rack next to the tub and pulled back the shower curtain. As he did so, he could have sworn he caught the lingering scent of a woman's sex. He smiled to himself and shook his head, passing it off as his imagination, as he stepped into the tub and turned on the shower.
"Been too long without a woman, old man." He thought to himself as he stepped under the stream. He had been a widower for eight years, and though he had tried to date a few times, he'd never felt the connection he'd had with Jenny. Jenny was Jamie's mother. They'd been high school sweethearts until he had graduated, two years before her, and gone off to college. When he'd graduated from college and returned home, he'd run into her again, and discovered she had an 8-month-old daughter. The girl's father had knocked her up their senior year of high school, then refused to have anything to do with her, denying it was his child. With assistance from her parents, Jenny had not only been able to keep and raise Jamie, but was enrolled in the autumn semester at the local community college.
Kevin had started dating Jenny again, casually at first, until it slowly reached the point that they were spending all their free time with one another. And not just the two of them. Kevin went out of his way to find things that he, Jenny and Jamie could all do together. He had never stopped loving Jenny, and falling in love with Jamie was easy.
On December 31st, 1984 Kevin had asked Jenny to marry him. She had said yes, and on May 15th, 1985 they had become Mr. and Mrs. Kevin Allen, and baby. Kevin had officially adopted Jamie a year later. They had lived as a blissfully happy family until December 20th, 1991. Jenny was coming back from Christmas shopping. The roads were slick with ice. Another car, driven by a man who had had too much to drink at the company Christmas party, spun out of control on the ice and slammed into her, causing her car to spin out of control and roll, sliding on it's roof into the median. She had died instantly.
None of these thoughts, of course, were on Kevin's mind that crisp October morning. No…the thoughts of Jenny's death, the thoughts of romancing and proposing to her, even the thoughts of their blissful marriage were far from his mind that morning with the faint hint of female arousal in his nostrils in the shower. What Kevin was thinking about was the sex he and Jenny had.
Jenny had discovered after reading "The Story of O" that she was a submissive, and had helped bring out the Dominant personality traits within Kevin. They had explored these aspects of themselves, and had soon settled very comfortably into the roles of Master and slave. This had not only strengthened the bond they had as husband and wife, removing the petty fights so many couples have over control of the marriage, it had also ignited their sex life.
Kevin leaned back against the wall of the shower and began stroking his soapy hand up and down the length of his rapidly swelling cock, eyes closed as he thought about the good times with Jenny. Images of Jenny kneeling before him, worshipping his cock with her lips and tongue. Images of Jenny, laying across the bed, ass striped by his belt, pleading for more as her juices flowed from her cunt down the inside of her thighs. Images of Jenny, covered in sweat, writhing beneath him, begging for permission to cum.
With a groan Kevin released the load that had rapidly built in his balls…spraying it onto the floor of the shower and opening his eyes to watch it whirlpool down the drain. Then he quickly finished showering and turned off the water, stepping out of the tub and drying off and wrapping the robe around him before opening the door to let the steam out so he could shave.
Kevin opened the door to find Jamie standing there, hand raised as if ready to knock. At eighteen, she stood 5 foot 5 inches tall, weighed 115 pounds, all firm and toned due to cheerleading and volleyball, and had bright blue eyes and raven hair hanging all the way down her back to her waist. She was dressed in the blue and gold cheerleading uniform of her High School.
"Jeremy's here, and I'm off to school, Daddy. I'll see you after the game!" She smiled brightly at him, then leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.
"Don't be too late Princess." He called after her as she hurried to the front door. As she turned to smile at him again, it occurred to Kevin for the first time that she looked just like her mother.
- - - - -
Jamie sat bored in her Mythology class as her teacher, a plain middle aged woman with a monotonous voice, droned on and on about Oedipus the King. Though Ms. Duncan possessed absolutely no public speaking skills, she insisted on providing an oral recap for the less studious pupils in her class. Unlike most of her classmates in this course, an elective she had taken to pad out her senior year, Jamie had already read and fully comprehended Sophocles' play about the King that gouged his own eyes out after his mother, upon learning she had married her son, had committed suicide.
